2010-03-01: Super Party Awesome



Date: March 1, 2010


Two friends run into each other in the park. Literally.

"Super Party Awesome"

Central Park, NYC

It's a cold day in Central Park. In fact, most passers-by are bundled up in winter gear of every sort. Sydney is no different. She's bundled in her thick peacoat, red mittens, red scarf, and poofy red toque — all things that are unmistakably Sydney. It seems she's getting more confident, even taking her dark-haired self to her favourite bench in the park; her theoretical perfect spot. It looks onto the park activities, is perfect for people-watching, and is a pretty vantage point. Next to her she has her usual bag filled with books and photocopied articles outlining missing persons and the like; it was an ordinary trip to the library and still with little progress, but someday soon she'll have progressed again.

It might be cold, but it's March, which means spring is on its way! Out and about in the city she knows and loves is Amy. Having had a light workday out of nothing but happenstance, the off-duty, psychiatrist wanders through Central Park, cup of coffee in a recyclable cup in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. She's bundled up in layer upon colorful, purposeful layer, the one of which is a floral skirt too light and springy for the snow, and the topmost of which is a high-shouldered coat nothing short of blinding magenta and a lavender knit scarf. Along with giant black sunglasses and red hair, the woman is something of a beacon.

Also a beacon? Sydney. Blame the hat. Amy, coming up the path en route toward her, almost doesn't give her a second glance because of the dark hair, but the distance gets slightly smaller, she pulls her sunglasses off with a gloved hand and squints, stops, and points at Sydney with the accessory. "SYDNEY??"

The loudly uttered name draws the younger therapist's attention. Sydney's eyes fix on Amy. Amy. Before she can think twice about it (or abandoning her articles), she's standing from the bench, "AMY!" Her lips curl upwards into a smile. It's been ages since she'd left Amy's apartment (like two months, which really is AGES when it comes to people you're used to seeing every single day of your life!).

She's already beginning to close the distance between her and her friend.

Confirmed — it's the same girl. Amy smiles widely, brightly, but just as bright is her confused, concerned and surprised stare. The wide open expression is the slightest bit affronted, too (her friend disappeared off the face of the earth!), but that takes a serious backburner. "Oh my God! Syd! What happened to you!" she says (shouts) as her arms spread wide. It's a little awkward, given the bag and sunglasses in one hand and the coffee in the other and a purse on her shoulder somewhere in the jumble. Running — scurrying, really, in a pair of heels — she hurries toward Sydney in turn "I was so worried about you— !"

Sydney's arms are spread too as she begins to scurry as well. She's dressed in her ridiculously high goth boots — the ones that she'd skulked away in the night Jamie had arrived. There is so much to say, yet nothing comes out! "I'm okay! I just — I'll explain everything later!!! I'm so HAPPY to see you!!" Finally, she's reached her friend, but as usual, Sydney fails at running in heels. Her ankle twists and she begins to fall to the ground. Brunette overboard!

Amy is prepared to greet Sydney with opens arms. "You're right you're going to explain, m— ee!"

And where there's a brunette down, there's a redhead. She tries to catch Sydney, but her full hands and slippery heels and, quite likely, their opposing heights make this a nearly impossible feat to accomplish in the matter of two seconds. With a crumple of shopping bags and a slosh of coffee, she's on her side. Jolted, but not too worse for the wear. "…Glad to see you're still yourself…" She awkwardly and somewhat stiffly starts to push up, wincing. "Are, uh. Are you okay? What's with the — ow," Amy sits up on the path. " — Queen Goth Dominatrix boots?"

With a groan of her own, Sydney is pushing herself up too. "Th-thanks. Ugh. I need to work on my balance again. Seriously, I was like just getting used to the boots." She rubs her knee which managed to get the brunt of her weight against the pavement. "I'm okay. For real. Ow." She frowns momentarily, but then her lips crack into their usual smile. "I like the boots! And, they do their job, you know? Sometimes it's not the time to…" She glances around the park suspiciously before managing to push herself up to her feet and then offering Amy a hand. "…we should… go back to the bench maybe…" she grimaces slightly and glances about the park again. No sign of scary looking men. Not yet, anyways.

Amy manages to tuck her sunglasses on top of her head and switch the half-lost cup of coffee to the opposite hand in order to flick stray droplets from her glove. Then she uses Sydney's help to clamber to her feet. "What… job… is that, exactly?" She looks down at the goth boots and all the way back up again with an arching brow. "New line of work you need to tell me about?" Bench it is; straightening out her outfit with a ruffle here and there, she heads for the bench Sydney recently abandoned. "Or are you just reliving your youth? Well your—- youthier youth, God you're so young." More to the point: "I've been worried about you, Syd." She gives a brief pause before echoing: "For real."

"I'm not totally reliving my youth… I'm… " there's a rather pregnant pause as Sydney contemplates everything that's transpired in the last few months. "…look, sometimes it's easier to hide in the open than to hide under a rock somewhere, you know?" And so there's the truth. She's hiding. From something. "The boots and the hair, they just… they do the job." She shrugs a little before pursing her lips together. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just left like that. I left a note!" Like that makes everything better. "I just… I couldn't stay anymore. Someone needed my help and to help them would put all of us in danger. Maybe." She shrugs again. "I am sorry. I really am." She bites her nail.

Sidelong, Amy gives Sydney an unconvinced look, laced with all manner of concern. "Hiding. Danger. Syd…" She flops onto the bench, setting her bag aside. Her gaze reverts straight back to Sydney. "I know I've said it before, but…. you can talk to me. You left a note, but it's been two months and that doesn't even count how strange you were before that. I was this close to calling the police and the fire brigade! Well… maybe not the fire brigade. W— then again, all of those firefighters running around…" Amy gets a dreamy look in her eye and forgets Sydney for a moment before she snaps seamlessly back to reality. "Anyway. What is it you're hiding from? I know it can't be Bryce." And if there's someone else involved…? Amy is just trying to piece it together. What on earth is Sydney involved in?

Flopping down next to her cohort, Sydney sighs heavily. How is she to explain this? How is she to explain everything? Pressing her lips together she frowns. "I… I want to explain it. But its insane! Like I can't overstate how incredibly crazy it is! I —" She hmmms quietly. "You'd want to lock me up if I told you. I nearly had myself committed because of it, it's just not simple." A hand is raised to her forehead. "I know I can talk to you, I mean, I can trust you, but sometimes it's better to be in the dark. Somedays I wish I still was."

Amy sits back against the bench and crosses her legs, but fails to look comfortable. Worried, she can't help but appear a touch disapproving at Sydney's vows of silence. Even though— "I get it," she assures Sydney, but angles closer a moment later and grips the younger woman's shoulder. "But I mean, you remember I'm in the same profession as you, right? Whatever's happening, I've heard crazier." Now that her offer of an ear is out there, she frowns. "You don't have to tell me anything, not— right now, but at least reassure me again that you're okay. Are we even safe talking together in here Central Park, are you going to run away again, give me something here."

"You've heard crazier," Sydney repeats. She's not sure she's heard crazier. With another glance around the park she shakes her head, "We can't talk about this here. It's too… open." And there's the truth, she feels unsafe in the middle of a park full of people. But at the notion of reassurances, she offers her friend a warm smile, "I am okay. I'm… taking care of some kids. And… I'm staying with a friend. I'm not running per say. I'm just keeping the kids safe. One is in particular danger and it's appalling…"

"Kids, huh?" Amy's brows shoot up and linger there, not only with surprise, but alarm. Kids being involved in whatever dangerous venture Sydney is tangled up in somehow makes it even more serious. "But we'll talk?" She doesn't push with more questions … right now, though there are definitely a dozen at the tip of her tongue. "Okay, well." She offers a warm, imploring smile. "Will you also at least call me every now and then to let me know you're not in jail or in a ditch in Mexico or wherever you'd go if whatever it is you're involved with goes wrong, or— more wrong?"

"We will, I promise. Just… not here." Sydney glances around the park. Not that the scary men would necessarily look scary, but then who knows? She reaches into her bag of photocopying and scribbles down a cell number. "You can reach me at this number. It's a phone I bought at a drug store. And yeah, I'll call. I promise." She shoots Amy an apologetic smile, "We're safe. All three of us are safe. And if something goes wrong… Look, I'm staying with this friend. He's a good guy." She thinks. "I'll make sure he gets in touch if something happens to me. I promise. Right now, I think we're all safe."

"Safe," Amy repeats with a nod and a lopsided smile. She looks at the paper and she fiddles with her purse to find her cell phone and program the number straight into it. She flashes the screen toward Sydney to reassure her. Instead of Sydney Falkland, the entry says: Dominatrix. Hopefully no one looks through Amy's address book. She lowers the phone to her knee. "You know Hope Hearth hasn't been the same without you."

"I think Dominatrix suits me," Sydney smirks as she leans forward and tugs on her black boots. "I miss it there. How is everyone? I miss the clients and the crazy, but… I just can't go back yet. I hope… one day…" that all of the nonsense will be resolved, that Jamie will be completely safe, that life will have some level of normalcy "…that I'll be back. That is, if you'd have me." She chuckles at this before shaking her head. "2010 has only began and it's already insane, but hopefully insanity at the beginning means quiet at the end…"

"Everyone's alright. The usual. The crazy people are still crazy. Some are less crazy, since I'm so exceptionally awesome at my job." Amy cracks a grin. "You better come back. Of course I'd have you. All this dreamy 'one day…' business has me worried," she says, taking a sip of her much neglected and abused coffee. It must be cold, given the subtle expression of disgust she gives the cup afterward.

"Ha. Well we need the crazies to keep in business, right?" Sydney winks with a slight chuckle. "I don't mean to worry you, I just don't know if things… if things can be resolved that easy." She frowns and sighs. "It's not easy. It's really difficult running from something that may or may not be a threat. And if things don't get resolved… getting back to work is the least of my worries." She sighs again as she leans back against the bench, she wants to explain everything to Amy, but this isn't the right place. Clearly. "I'd… hmmm. Look. I want to tell you everything. I will tell you everything, even if it makes you think I'm delusional and have some kind of warped delusions of grandeur." And then she adds as a kind of afterthought, "I'm okay. I'm not even worse for wear right now…"

"Okay," Amy says swiftly with a raised hand of surrender, as if she had been drilling Sydney with questions, even though she hadn't been. Much. Lately. In the last minute. She smiles, accepting, even if she's obviously concerned. "Okay. Then call me. Soon. It was good to run— " she pauses, realizing her unintentional choice of wording. "…into… you, Sydney. Alright — I could have done without the literal running into part. I should go, let you get back to…" She looks down at the photocopies with a quirk of her brow. "…this." The woman leans in to give Sydney a little hug on the bench. Little, but firm, paired with a peck on the cheek before she stands and gathers her things. "Call me!"

"I will call. In the next day or two. I promise. And in the meantime… make sure you go have a super fantastic dance party in your office," Sydney nods at this fact before adding, "just don't break anything this time." Of course, Syd had been the one to break stuff most of the time. Nothing like being totally clumsy. She nods at the photocopies, "Just research. Nothing like a project following a dissertation defence." She returns the mini hug and the peck and as Amy leaves she calls back, "I will! I promise!"

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