(Slight GMing via placement of character approved)
Paris pushed open the door of the coffee shop with his shoulder, trying not to bang his guitar case against the glass in the process. He didn't have an umbrella and it was pouring out. He shook his head and water fell off of his hair. He looked down at the slight puddle near his shoes and smiled sheepishly at one of the girls behind the counter, as if in apology.
Paris took off his outer, soaked wind breaker and put it up on a coat rack near a small fire place where plush chairs were situated. He took a deep breath and looked around the café for a moment. His smile became broad and his eyes sunny when he saw his old friend Sven. He took a moment to shake out his hair, leaving it a semi-damp, tangled mess on his head and went over.
He stood near the bench where Sven was seated for a moment. He didn't look particularly cheerful.
Without a word Paris set his guitar down, gently, and sat next to Sven. He sighed deeply and leaned his head against Sven's shoulder.
"Hey Bro." He gazed out at the people moving around inside the warm shop backlight by the blue tones and steady pattern of rain outside. His eyes flickered around the display case, not really taking in the contents, just staring.
"Sorry about the rain. Thanks for coming, though. Been busy so it feels like it's been forever, kind of. Tell me what you've been up to."
Sven wasn't a fan of coffee shops. Sure, there were always cute girls, but they were all games. Coffee-shop girls would flip their hair and eye you down, but they'd never go the distance, not where it counted. Girls aside, the people in coffee shops weren't his, dare he say, cup of tea. Nearly everyone had their nose in a laptop, probably working on screenplays like all the stereotypes you see in movies. They say stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason, though. Worse yet, all the people did was sit there. No moving. Nothing.
Sven didn't like sitting still. Made him antsy. His foot would start tapping, he'd start thinking too much; about the future, about Fiona, about Andi, and then he'd start getting nervous. It was bad news.
He checked his watch, twitching his hand in such a way that the face flipped to the front. He was late.
Sven was someone who had to be moving, had to have something going on to occupy his mind. Knitting helped, but he wouldn't be caught dead knitting in public. Think of the shit he'd get for that. Sissy Sven and his knitting needles hanging out on a bench like some little old lady. It made your fingers nimble, though. Ask any of the girls he'd been with.
He smiled smugly at the thought as he surveyed the room. It was a nice place, he supposed, but definitely not his kind of place. He'd rather be in some hole in the wall bar with some interesting people. He'd tried to convince Paris to get a fake I.D a couple times, but his friend wanted no part of it. His loss, though. He met some pretty interesting people at bars, got a lot of fun stories. Plus, the drinks. He could sit still so long as he had a drink in hand, probably the only time he could.
A friendly jingle sounded from the front of the cafe as the door opened and the bell clinked against it. Sven smiled before checking his watch once more. Just ten minutes late, not bad. Bemused, he watched as Paris shook his wet hair out, half expecting him to flip his head back akin to the Little Mermaid. Once Paris caught site of him, Sven waved him over, shifting down the bench to make room as his friend approached.
"It's about time, Princess," He said as Paris rested his wet head against his shoulder, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. "I was starting to think you stood me up, man. What would I have told the waitress? 'Oh it's probably the traffic?' or maybe 'If he doesn't come, would you care to join instead?'. Girls eat that shit up, the lost puppy thing."
He chuckled, relaxing into the bench.
"And this and that, y'know? College crap, baby momma drama, same story, different day," He sighed, resting his head against Paris' before taking note of the guitar, "What about you, Bro? Still doing that hobo-park music thing?"