Got to let it show

[Lizzie Moore]

Lizzie lugged a big brown suitcase into the soda shop, letting the door click shut behind her before she made a move toward the bar. "Uh. Hello?" she asked, setting her luggage down beside a stool. She fluffed her neck scarf as she waited.

[Benjamin Helms]

Ben bustled in from the back room. "Hello, hello! Welcome to Ben's Happy-Time Soda Shoppe!" he greeted the woman, whom he didn't recognise. Giving her a brief once-over, he continued, "Now you look like a woman who could do with a coffee. What can I do you for?"

[Lizzie Moore]

"No coffee," the budding actress protested cooly, tossing a lock of hair from her eyes. "I'm lookin' for a place to stay. Just got into town and I don't know anyone who can put me up 'till I ship out again." Miss Moore gave her bread-winning smile. "There any shootin' going on around here?"

[Benjamin Helms]

"Oh, there's not been any shooting in this town as long as I've been here," Ben assures her. "Not that I recall, anyway." He grinned in return, a little dopily. "I don't think there's any hotel around - though it's been awhile since I've seen anyone come through what didn't have family here. You sure you don't want anything to drink?"

[Lizzie Moore]

Lizzie's face fell. "There's no hotel and no shootin'? What kinda down is this?" Heaving a sigh, the city girl climbed onto a barstool. "Maybe I'll take a coffee after all. Gonna need to move on sooner'n I thought."

[Benjamin Helms]

Ben's face nearly split in two, so wide was his shiny grin. "Well, you just hang on one second, and I'll have you a nice, fresh cup of coffee. Where you from, ma'am?" he asked, as the coffee started brewing.

[Lizzie Moore]

"The City," she replied immediately, as if the man knew which she meant. "What's this place?"

[Benjamin Helms]

Benjamin smiled blankly. "Uh... Atlanta? This here's Bloomsdale." He passed her her coffee, along with a somewhat awed smile. He wondered to himself if he'd ever seen a prettier woman. Maybe that Krug woman. She had a couple of admirable qualities. But this one... "You staying here long, or just passing through?"

[Lizzie Moore]

"Bloomsdale?" the young woman repeated, shying away from Ben a little as she received her coffee, though she did manage a curt, "Thanks," through her blindingly white teeth. "I'm just passing through. Makin' dough 'till I can get over to California. Least I thought I was. Don't know how far I'm gonna get without any work. This was as far as my last job'd get me."

[Benjamin Helms]

"Well, there are plenty of places what have some jobs available around here. New power plant just opened up; don't know what jobs they have for young ladies like yourself, but you might could be a - a receptionist or something." He grinned at her once again. "You wanta be a movie star then?"

[Lizzie Moore]

Lizzie winced. "Power plant? Is that all there is in this town? I could be a receptionist, I guess. I have the voice for it," She huffed once again, sipping her coffee. "I am going to be, I don't just want to be. Lizzie Moore. Look for my name in the next two years."

[Benjamin Helms]

"Lizzie Moore," Benjamin repeated. "That's a real pretty name. And the power plant's pretty big news, you know - it's nuclear. That has to do with atoms and stuff," he explained kindly.

"An' if you don't want to be a star, why are you going to be one?"

[Lizzie Moore]

"Nuclear. That's nice," she replied, not kindly at all. She did offer a smile at the compliment, however. "You think so? I changed it. I used to be, well, something else, but it didn't sound like a movie star name."

Lizzie rolled her eyes at the older man. "I do want to be one, but it's so much more than that."

[Benjamin Helms]

"How do you mean, it's more than that?" Ben asked, leaning against the counter curiously.

[Lizzie Moore]

Lizzie, in turn, leaned back, taking her coffee cup with her. "I mean, I'm destined for it. I didn't just wake up one morning and think to myself, 'Hey, I'd like to try performing.' This isn't some sort of kiddy dream."

[Benjamin Helms]

Ben straightened back up, and gave an uncharacteristically stern answer. "Well, you best find a real job too, miss, 'cause I don't see nothing special about you that'll get you a movie star job."

Love lost is never generous.

[Lizzie Moore]

"That ain't true at all!" Lizzie almost shouted, her warm brown eyes going cold. "You've never seen me perform have you? I've landed lotsa TV jobs and my agent says I'm ready and grown up enough now to go out and get in the movies.

"Besides, what do hicks like you know about acting anyway?"

[Benjamin Helms]

"Oh, of course it's not true," Ben replied patronisingly. "You're different. You're a real actress. You're going to go knock the socks offa those Hollywood producers. Well, you have fun." He wiped the countertop with deliberate boredom. "I doubt I need to see you perform - you probably just gave me your best performance just there. You sit down and finish that coffee, try not to spill anything on yourself," he added, just for that extra measure of condescension.

[Lizzie Moore]

Her features suddenly changing, Lizzie smiled and propped herself over the bartop, letting her neckscarf fall forward. "You think you're funny, don't you," she asked, her voice dripping with honey.

[Benjamin Helms]

Benjamin looked at her suspiciously. "You might want to lean back. Don't want anything falling out of there."

[Lizzie Moore]

Before the words could finish leaving his mouth, Lizzie's coffee cup was emptied. All over the front of Ben's shirt.

[Benjamin Helms]

"AGH! What the - you get the he - ck - sweet God - What in God's name d'you think you're - aaahhh hot - out of my store, you little cretin, go back to your momma -"

Only just stopping short of cursing her to next Sunday, Ben lost his sparklyness once and for all and just glared.

[Lizzie Moore]

"Thanks for letting me know about the receptionist gig," she called as she lugged her suitcase along beside her, already on her way out the door.

[Benjamin Helms]

Once the bell above the door tinkled shut, the shoppe owner swore loudly as he stomped to the back room.

[Isaiah Henderson]

Isaiah creaked open the door to the shop as quietly as he could and slipped inside in the same manner, gaze kept close to the ground where it liked to stay. He carried with him a heavy stack of papers since he hadn’t quite gotten around to bringing them home yet. In fact, he was on his way back from the plant when he stopped here – he’d rather not have a bundle of contracts in his arms [it attracted attention] but there was little he could do about it at this point in time. Creeping around and staying oddly close to the wall, the young man let his gaze flicker here and there; he was either trying to gather up the courage to do something or he simply didn’t know what to do. Both were equally believable possibilities.

[Christopher Healey]

In complete contrast, Christopher stepped into the soda shoppe with a sure foot and sat down by the bar, opening yesterday's paper which he hadn't yet read. "Morning," he nodded to Isaiah as he arranged the paper on the counter. Then he did a double-take. "You new here? I don't think I've seen you before."

[Isaiah Henderson]

Isaiah would have much preferred being invisible. In fact, he had been praying that Christopher wouldn’t notice him. But then the other man had dashed his hopes with a simple greeting. It wasn’t his fault though – Isaiah shouldn’t be so… Pathetic. Still keeping close to his good friend [the wall], the brunette shook his head weakly in reply mumbling something that was practically soundless. No… He wasn’t new, per se… He had been here… A bit…

[Christopher Healey]

Christopher cocked his head to the side, trying to decipher Isaiah's gesture. "No? Odd I don't know you, then. I'm Christopher Healey. I work at the farm. You?"

[Isaiah Henderson]

Isaiah frowned slightly in his little corner. “It’s nice to meet you…” He mumbled quietly. “I-I work at the… The plant… M-my name’s Isaiah… Henderson…” He fidgeted uncomfortably and looked to the side and around the shop, his gaze still kept relatively low.

[Christopher Healey]

Christopher raised a brow. "At the plant, huh?" he asked with interest. "What's it like over there? I only just heard about it. What sort of things go on in there?"

[Isaiah Henderson]

Isaiah shrugged absently, chewing on his lip. "I-I haven't quite started there yet... N-not exactly..." He stammered, sparing a weary glance at the stack of papers in his arms. Right... He had to go through all of those eventually.

[Christopher Healey]

"Oh," Christopher said and glanced at his paper a moment. "You a scientist, then?" he asked as he skimmed the paper, chewing absently on his lower lip.

[Isaiah Henderson]

The young man grimaced a bit. "N-No... N-not really..." He stuttered awkwardly. Wishing to change the subject, he added a slightly hesitant question about Christopher's job at the farm.

[Christopher Healey]

"Oh, you know," Christopher shrugged, not turning from the paper. "I do farm things. Tend the animals, care for whatever's growing." He finally twisted around again to face Isaiah. "I'm going to play for the Red Sox when I'm good enough, though."

[Isaiah Henderson]

"T-the Red Sox...?" The man inquired a little uncertainly. Isaiah wasn't a very manly sports guy and ergo wasn't well-versed in such things but he figured they were probably a team of some sort... Probably baseball but he couldn't be sure... These things were foreign to him despite their popularity. "You... You must be very t-talented..." He added faintly.

[Christopher Healey]

"Yes, the Red Sox," Christopher said, surprised that Isaiah seemed not to know what he was talking about. "They're Boston's baseball team." He hesitated. "I...take it you don't like baseball, then?"

[Isaiah Henderson]

Isaiah paled and shuffled his feet a little shamefully. "No... It's... I mean... It's not that I don't like it... It's just... I... That I—ah… Well…” He trailed of into a soft whisper. "I'm... I'm sorry." He apologized guiltily.

[Christopher Healey]

"Oh, really," Christopher said with a dismissive wave of a hand. "It's totally normal not to like baseball." He nodded as though trying to convince himself that this was indeed true and gathered up his paper, folding it under his arm. "Anyway, I've got to run. Chickens need feeding." He shrugged and gave Isaiah a quick grin before dashing out.

((out!))

[Isaiah Henderson]

"Ah... Goodbye..." Isaiah replied after Christopher was already gone. He stood there awkwardly for a moment before biting his lip and deciding to leave, lest he run into another person. Adjusting his grasp on the stack of papers, he silently shuffled out the door.

((Out.))