Everybody Makes Mistakes


koshka_icon.gif russo2_icon.gif tahir_icon.gif

Scene Title Everybody Makes Mistakes
Synopsis Koshka owns up to one
Date March 12, 2011

Central Park

"Ha!" the echo of the scoff reverberates through the relatively quiet park Saturday morning. But it's not a wholly unfamiliar sound, particularly for those familiar with Studio K's Advocate Bradley Russo. The park itself is relatively empty, with curfew having been lifted not long ago. Not that everyone had slept between lock in and open up.

"Man, I have no idea how you managed that move," his voice croaks around the sleeplessness creeping into it. "And I still don't even know how we got in there… " The suit may have something to do with it. Tailored. Pressed. It's not even wrinkled after a night out. Also the pair's familiar faces could have something to do with it. "Quite the party though— " he smirks as his hands tuck into his pockets.

"Seriously though. How do you know where the parties are anyways? It blows my mind how incredibly smooth you are with those ladies…"

Mornings are, let's face it, evil incarnate. Especially to a teenager. But with shared responsibilities means some sacrifices to one's sleep schedule if you want to get out and make good the day. And that equates to being out as soon as the curfew lifted.

Which should do pretty good at explaining in and of itself why one of the few patrons to the park is a teenager. Little too young to hold down a job, too old to be home watching cartoons, Koshka cuts down a pathway through the grassy expanse. Hands rest in jacket pockets, her clothing ensemble marking her as average, blue jeans and pale red t-shirt peeking out from the aforementioned jacket. And marked as average could lead to the summation that she has no set destination in mind.

Voices, both familiar, drift through the teenager's attention as her path takes her nearer. Koshka's eyes flick toward the pair of television hosts. How odd that both would be recognized, one far better than the other and for reasons besides the popularity of The Advocate. The other more vague, in passing and little enough interaction that, unfortunately, infers only vague recognition. But with recognition of the one, she near stops in her tracks as the classic oh shit, I'm going to die feeling washes over her.

With hands jamming more deeply into her pockets, Koshka keeps to her path and tries to replace the guilty feeling with something more neutral in expression.

Or the power of their abs. There just happens to be something about the way that Tahir Avery Dunham carries himself, especially when he is out with his best friend in the entire cosmos, Bradley Russo. The two of them become such an unstoppable force of attractiveness that it is very difficult to deny them entry into anything.

"Man, I'm just persuasive. What can I say?" Which is pretty much very literally what he is. Not that he hides. Unfortunately, though, production on this particular star's talk show has been pushed back. Up All Night though will be coming soon! Have no fear!

"How do I know where the parties are?" For some reason, though, Tahir's voice isn't as groggy as Russo's. It is almost like he stays up all night (haha, get it?) all the time. It's just the way he rolls. He too is wearing an amazing suit, though he's chosen to go with a banana yellow motif for his tie/Chucks/tinted glasses combination this time."Evolution, my man. Evolution."

There's another chuckle-scoff (choff?) as Brad shakes his head slightly at his friend. "Honestly? I've never seen anyone pull of the whole playboy image as well as you. Somehow you still manage to come off likeable, my friend," a hand claps against Tahir's shoulder as he falls into step with the Up All Night star. "Back in my day— " because, you know, Russo's so old, "— I'm pretty sure all I encountered was drama." His grey-blue eyes narrow slightly as they scan the park itself. There's a vague pang of familiarity as his gaze falls on the teenage girl in the park. A little bit of an oddity given the time, but then, he and his comrade are out and about freakishly early (late?) too. The pang, however, is passing. Released as quickly as it had come.

"So that's your superpower? Finding the good parties?" his eyebrows arch playfully while he turns to face his friend. "That's a superpower I think even Humanis First could get behind," traces of merriment line his eyes in the rough pattern of crow's feet. In many respects he's too old for this— it was a piece of his life he'd released when he'd met Karolina. But then friendship, chatter, and going out are his life's blood.

Russo meanders towards a coffee cart along the path. "Coffee? I bet we could find somewhere still going with your super ability— " he begins with a smirk. "I can't say I feel much like working— " he reaches into his pocket to pull out… a blue canvas wallet complete with velcro and a Transformers logo. It's not exactly befitting for a man of thirty-some years…

To approach, or not to approach? That is Koshka's question of the hour. Her steps slow and she seems about to make her way to the coffee cart. But then. She decides against it, telling herself it's to let the men settle themselves with coffee. It is early, after all. Or late if you prefer to see it that way. Coffee would help assuage the sleepiness of the hour.

Meanwhile the teenager, casual as can be, steps onto the seat of a bench. Turning upon one foot, she perches on the back rest. Nothing better for a kid to do this early, normal teenager haunts won't open until the hour is more reasonable. Hands draw out of the pockets to her sides, and one manipulates her coat so the other can reach into an inner compartment. From there a familiar square of folded leather is produced, far more fitting of either of the two men than a sixteen year old girl.

To answer the unspoken question, yes. Koshka does carry the item with her, afraid of smaller hands finding it. She presses it between her palms, draws it into her lap, and looks away from the coffee-seeking men.

"Ain't no party like a Tahir Avery Dunham party. Cuz a Tahir Avery Dunham party don't stop." Tahir is already looking through his expensive ass phone as if he's trying to see what's going on this early in the morning. With a calendar that stays as full as his does, it's only natural that he have times scheduled for almost everything that needs to go on in his life. "Coffee'll work. Even without the shots of Bailey's." Alcoholic, much?

"Uh… it looks like there may be a couple things across town we can bust into." Tahir continues pouring through his calendar. "I think there's some models in town for a photo shoot. I know the photographer. We dated before she went Lesbian." Tahir shrugs. "I hit it. So the timing was perfect." Oh Tahir. "But I can text her and see where they're going to be. We could crash?"

"Your show should focus on parties, not celebrities," Brad observes as he un-velcros his wallet, extracting a bill to hand over to the vendor. Again, those blue-grey eyes scan the park, falling on Koshka once again. There's nothing overtly memorable that sticks out in his mind.

A hand, however, is held up in a stop motion at Tahir's words, "Hold up! You dated a lesbian?" his nose wrinkles slightly while his head lolls lazily to the side. "And she went lesbian after she dated you?" There's a skeptical furrowing of his eyebrows as he emits another chuckle. "As long as you weren't the last guy she… " he actually struggles with this particular word, "..uh.. hit(?)…" it's nearly a question. Nearly.

As the vendor pours two coffees, Brad's glances over towards Koshka. And then… WOAH. That looks a lot like his more grown-up wallet. His lips part slightly as he all-out stares at her now. Yeah. This isn't at all awkward.

It might be more awkward if Koshka had been looking that direction. As it is, a trio of pigeons had chosen to peck at the ground near her. The birds are allowed their scavenging for a moment or two before the teen leans closer and stomps her foot upon the bench seat, giving a startle to the birds and scattering them. At least for a short time.

Drawing her arms inward more, crossing them at her chest and concealing that nifty little wallet further, the girl takes another passing look toward the two men at the coffee cart. Passing, which in this case is defined as gazing toward them then looking away. Of course, Koshka double-takes on realizing that now she's being watched. Color drains from her face save for matching pink spots on her cheeks. And the grin she tries to offer is tarnished with dread.

Tahir is already working on the text to his photographer friend. Because that's just how he rolls. There isn't much else to do but to set up the next party. "Eh. I think that's why we haven't started filming yet. We keep trying to figure out what to do to make it different than Letterman and Leno. I've got some ideas swishing around but nothing epic enough." Tahir shrugs, still not even looking up from his phone and the texting.

"Nah. She… okay, she's bi. But since I try not to believe in middle-ground stereotyping, I just call her a lesbian. It sounds so much cooler to say that I fucked a lesbian, y'know? It gives me so many more Pimp Points." Tahir finishes his text and finally looks up at Russo. He blinks. Noticing that he's looking off at a teenager. "Uh. Dude? You're not going R. Kelly on me right now, are you?"

"I was gonna say that you changed her entire worldview so much that she couldn't love another man. But now you've thrown my theory out in the water," Brad murmurs quite distractedly.

One of the coffees is pushed towards Tahir quite subtly while Russo's gaze remains on Koshka. In fact, it takes a few moments to register his friend has even spoken to him. "What?" he asks before shaking his head and grasping his own cup. Her expression is telling enough. In fact, it's so telling that he feels validated enough to approach. There's no real expediency in his walk as weighty steps carry him to where the teen is perched.

"So… you going to give me a story about how you're a street urchin and I should have pity?" his eyebrows arch up expectantly. Evidently he may have been through this song and dance before. "If you were going to feed that one, might've been bright to… you know, look homeless…" he brings the cup to his mouth and takes a sip of the coffee before turning to glance back at his friend.

Koshka could just leave the wallet and run. In fact, it crosses her mind as surely as the space between her bench and the coffee cart is covered. But she doubts her chances to get away scott free, and that wouldn't do well for her reform anyway. Taking a breath that does little to steel her nerves, she remains planted in place, a subtle shift of her posture drawn from instinctive wariness than inclination to flee.

Blue eyes dart between Tahir and Russo. "Actually," Koshka begins, "I'm going to tell you I found it." Which, obviously, would be half a lie. She did find it, in Brad's pocket. Again her gaze darts to Tahir then back again. "It's a good morning for coffee, little chilly and all. Hella early."

"Haha! Dude! She's like… bring coffee and we can stay all day if we want! Haha! I love this girl." Tahir is blissfully in his own world. A world of texting Lesbians. It's a very strange world to be in. He does grab his own coffee though and look up to see that his partner in awesomeness has headed off to talk to the teenager. Not a good sign. "Man, I don't want to go to jail today…" is muttered under his breath as he follows.

Tahir is sliding his phone back into the holster as he gets close enough to hear what is going on, even if he doesn't understand it. He doesn't care to, honestly. "Look. Before this goes any further, we're going to need to see some ID. And I'm going to need you to fill out a form of consent…" What the hell.

"Is that the story you're sticking with then?" Brad asks skeptically of Koshka as both of his eyebrows escalate higher on his forehead. "I enjoy that you said," at this next part his voice raises several octaves to do an impression of the teenager, "'I'm going to tell you.'" His voice returns to its normal cadence and tone, "Instead of, well, directly like 'I found it!'" He turns back to Tahir again as his eyebrows crease together. "We could call the authorities." And then he clues in and his arms raise exasperatedly into the air, "Seriously?! You thought me… and… " he points back to Koshka. "That's not what this is at all, Dunham. She stole my wallet." He points towards her lap.

"Or found it. Or something." He shrugs slightly as he eyes her a little more carefully. "So… you just carry stolen wallets with you everywhere? And if you found it, why didn't you just give it to the police?" Good questions, B-Rad.

The authorities are exactly whom Koshka does not care to run into. Between Tahir asking for ID and Russo suggesting it, she nearly panics. It results in the wallet being grasped even more tightly, defending her guilt in the entire situation. It does a fair job of crushing further resistance through sarcasm, draws a significantly worried look that's passed off first to Tahir and then to Brad.

"No, wait…" Koshka's voice chokes off as she flails for reasoning. A lie, the truth, anything that could be used to shovel out of the mess. "Um.. it… I…" Pause, swallow, and the teenager's hand extends slightly to offer the wallet in question. Contents untouched, it's exactly as the Advocate's host had last seen it. "…I did find it. —In your pocket." At least it explains why she hadn't taken it to the police. Another glance toward Tahir and back again, expecting one or both to phone law enforcement or haul her in to a station.

"Okay, let me handle this."

Tahir spins and drops himself down onto the bench also. He has a habit of sitting on the back of benches too, even while looking as stylish as he does in his suit. "You gotta' pick better, girl. Pick Pocketing can be a very awesome way of life. It can be fun and rewarding. It can even be thrilling and dangerous. It all comes down to just why you're doing it." Tahir speaks as if he's speaking from all kinds of piles of experience. "But if you want it to be profitable, you gotta' pick better pockets than Bradley Russo. He hosts a /political/ talk show for cryin' out loud." Tahir offers a smile to Brad and then rolls his eyes. "BORING!"

When the wallet is handed back to the original owner, Tahir is smiling even more. "And now? Everything's all good. No need to be calling the police for what could've been a very costly mistake, I say. We'll just chalk this one up to bad timing. How's that sound?" He looks between the teenager and his friend. "That cool with everybody?"

"Uh…?" This is not the solidarity Brad was looking for from his friend. "Seriously? Don't encourage this! I know you're like young and free and stuff, but if she," he points back towards Koshka, "were one of your sisters, you can't tell me you'd be encouraging this…" His eyes narrow substantially before he shakes his head slightly.

"I doubt this young lady won't try again unless there's consequences. So… we need consequences or something… Like… something." He shrugs slightly, there's little to be said for what these consequences look like, just that they apparently exist.

From the start of Tahir's views on pick pocketing, Koshka's shaking her head to deny it. "No. No, no, no. No more stealing. Ever." Her hands retreat, returning to being stashed away in her pockets. Shoulders hunch slightly and she shifts a fraction closer to the end of the bench, a fraction away from Tahir in case he turns out to be some sort of law enforcement or something. After all, Brad with his political affiliations, you never know who he might hang out with.

Threat of consequences brings about a whole new pang of panic. Blue eyes widen slightly, sliding between each of the television personalities. Koshka tries to quell the urge to flee, appealing to the men's better natures by making promises. "No… it… it was an accident. Just… bad choices. I'm not… I don't… not anymore. It'll never happen again, I swear."

"Everybody makes mistakes, B-Rad." Tahir pleads, though he doesn't have to plead long. Koshka is already dropping the knowledge about her stealing never happening again. Which is good. "See? See? She's done with stealing. She's been scared straight by the awesomeness that is Tahir Avery Dunham." Tahir hops off the bench and proceeds to hold his coffee cup up at the girl. "Now. You remember what I taught you. And stay in school. And don't do drugs that you didn't pay for youself. And…" Tahir grows tired of trying to spout of responsible things and ends up looking over at Brad. "… we need to go get coffee and donuts so we can crash a photoshoot!" Tahir is too hype about it. "Did I forget to mention these are Vicki's Models?"

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