2019-12-17 - Meetings and Interests

The new art gallery seems to have 'let out' one of its recent classes. A few chatty students hang around babbling about this and that, nothing to truly make sense it seems. Hera does her best to answer their questions and, after a somewhat brief exchange, they clients part ways, proud of what they appeared to learn for today. Hans watches it all and seeming to not have to snap into 'guard dog' mode, he bows his head to accept petting from his alpha. "You were great today." tells him, "Even let one of the bored housewives tug at your tail. Sorry about that boy."

He doesn't completely understand what she is saying but he does get a bit of the message. She just smiles at him and goes to get a small bag of treats. When they're spilled on the floor, the eager German Sheppard gobbles them up eagerly. Queso, the gallery cat, finally decides to come out of hiding. Like many felines are, he doesn't always appear to be a fan of large crowds. Now that there's less people, he goes back to brushing against the easels to claim them as 'his' again.

That leaves Hera to clean up. Yup, the students left a bit of a mess but that's not surprising. Fortunately, she doesn't serve food here and she mummurs, "Glad this group didn't drink wine." Yeah, not all students are going to be the best groups and this one, while it wasn't the worst, didn't represent the best either.

Speaking of creatures likely to eat food that's been dropped on the floor, along comes Gray Harbor's resident ginger beardo, James. He defers to the cooler winter weather mostly by wearing his non-ripped jeans, and an extra t-shirt under his gray hoodie. The hoodie itself just says 'You are dangerously close to being killed off in my next novel'. He looks around curiously, cautiously, as he steps inside. He sniffs at the air, eyeing the cafe area, before stepping fully inside.

Hera picks up a few more plates and glasses and things and off to the sink they go. Yeah, the last thing she wants is someone calling a health inspector over people who won't pick up their chips and things. Seeing another fellow redhead though, she offers a bit of a smile and greets him warmly. "Hello, welcome to Vivid Dreams. Please, come in and make yourself at home. A class just finished not too long ago so, please forgive me as I pick up a bit but have a seat, enjoy!"

James only jumps a tiny bit at hearing a voice in his direction- the joint he had not too long ago has him mellow enough to not break into a run at the slightest motion. This may seem extreme, but James does seem to get into an inordinate amount of supernatural trouble every time he leaves the house, so, really, can't blame him too much. He finally offers a mildly nervous smile. "Oh. Hey. No worries, no rush, was just looking for some coffee, and, uhm. Nice, ah, place you've got here. Artsy. Which, I'm guessing, is sort of the point of it." A pause, and then he adds, "I, ah, like it." And then he shuffles off to take a seat as offered.

Hera picks up an empty glass, one of the few things left behind. "Oh sure. I don't really have the gourmet kind or anything like that, I hope that's ok?" seems like it's not a real coffee joint, but bean juice is easily made at any time. "Thank you." she says as she goes to put the glass away. "And yes, quite artsy. Seems like some of the classes are going well." Students might help keep the place going after all. Hans, being security, continues to stay to the side but the dog watches the man with interest. Apparently he hasn't gotten used to his scent yet and the guard on duty isn't too sure if James is in the 'ok zone' or not.

"Oh, yeah, it's ok, don't need anything fancy, just some caffeine.", James says, then looks around as she mentions classes. "So, what kind of classes do you do here? Painting?", he asks, sounding honestly curious. He does spot the dog over to the side, and gives it a measuring look- it doesn't have unusual stripes, glowing eyes, and is not the size of a Volkswagen, so for now he is as willing to stay as cautiously at peace with it as it appears to be with him.

There are some flyers on the counter and she goes to get one. There's some additional information about what's offered, "Painting, pottery, things of that nature. Take a look." The contact information is there as well. "Though I do hope my place is a haven for all artists who want to come and enjoy, create and relax. Simple concept really, but we don't live in a simple world. I'll be right back with your coffee."

Hans doesn't seem to mean him any harm but it is rather obvious that he is surveying the place. Should anyone throw a punch, the canine would snap into action. If there's no threat, the dog will likely remain in chill mode.

The evening is chilly. Which probably explains why the figure that arrives has a long, dark grey woolen cloak, the buttons only flat disks, giving a streamlined look that makes the coat look almost like a seamless whole. Almost like a robe. The hood is up too, deeper than a normal hood - surely it is reinforced somehow, to hang with such a perfect curve and cast shadows against her face without drooping and causing a loss of vision. And let's not discuss the thin silver chains that go from the pocket to the final button in front, each dangling some unique charm: a tooth hear, a small brass cage there, a few reeds and a tiny watch, and so forth. The figure pauses, and the plum lips visible beneath the hood-- stretches into a grin, the moment the hood stops upon spotting James. Casually, the figure walks closer. Only one person comes to mind, very likely, and when Gina pulls back her head to reveal purple hair and elaborate smoky eye, she's already closing in on James.

James takes the offered flyer, looking it over. "I did a pottery thing, once. It did not go well.", he admits, voice soft, but gives Hera a polite, warm smile as she says she's getting his coffee. "Thanks!" He then goes back to looking over the flyer, noting a few different things. He would like to remain as chill as Hans, but there's a moment, there when something in him, something primal and instinctive, comes to attention. The hair at the back of his neck stands up, and he stiffens in his seat a bit. "... nope.", he mutters under his breath, and remains where he is, not looking behind him as Gina approaches. He knows it's her. He can feel it. Maybe if he stays very, very still, she'll think he's actually just an elaborate papier-mache sculpture of some kind.

Hera offers a smile to James and says, "Oh, maybe you just didn't practice enough, no matter." She does return with the cup of coffee but notices someone starting to comes toward James. Hera puts the cup down in front of him then she looks over at her dog. He whines a bit and watches. Giving a bit of a whine he doesn't look like he's springing to action or anything at this moment. Yeah, people have been coming in and out all day so what's unique about this one? Strangely dressed yes but these two legged animals wear some of the craziest things at times.

Into the gallery Dylan comes, led by the hand by Mae. He's clad in a t-shirt that has an old, faded yellow paint hand print on the chest, a light sweater jacket over top of that, and a pair of jeans that somehow, miraculously, are perfectly clean. Slung over his shoulder is his messenger bag, "Not allergic," He reassures the inked woman as he starts to pull out a chair next to her, but already his eyes are drifting, soaking in all the different paintings to be seen, a soft and low 'oooooh' of delight coming from him. "Wow. It's wonderful," He murmurs.

Gina doesn't stop approaching James until she's right at his side, unless he moves. "A new interest in the arts, Becker?" Gina says, ruining all of his dreams of going unseen as she leans to the side to peek at the flyer in his hand. "I hear art's supposed to be very therapeutic. Not a bad idea." Her expression is its usual mild, difficult-to-read setting, it being very difficult to tell whether she's being sincere or sarcastic, snarky or helpful. The little quirk of one lip that could be a half-smile or a smirk doesn't help any, even if her attention soon switches to glancing over at those who walk in. A heartbeat, as they look familiar, but her attention is soon back to that flyer in James's hand.

The rain outside seems to have cleared up, the sound of a motorcycle can be heard outside pulling up to the gallery. When the door opens, Zoiya is pulling Dylan into the gallery by a hand, chatting with him as they walk. "I hope you're not allergic to cats or dogs, I haven't asked, because there is the most adorable pets here, and wait until you see the paintings she has displayed." The chatter is near constant, until she realizes that there are others present. She offers a brief smile to the gathered people, not wanting to be rude, nudging Dylan toward one of the tables as she gives Hera a wink and a wiggle of fingers in greeting.

She sets her purse next to a chair and prepares to settle in, not wanting to immediately intrude on ongoing conversations.

"It's Heck-", James begins to protest, but realizes he has moved and spoiled his one chance to escape unnoticed from the stalking apparition beside him. He lets out a sigh, and slumps. "... hello, Gina.", he says, in the same tone of voice the pope might use to refer to Satan, the Adversary, Lord of Darkness and Sin. "And I'll have you know, in certain circles, writing is in fact considered art.", he adds, sniffing. "... not my writing, of course, but, y'know. Writing." Hera's coffee delivery gets a small, but grateful, smile, and he quickly slides a couple of bills across the table to her, paying for the coffee and tipping more than generously as well. Perhaps his way of apologizing for inadvertently luring a source of primal evil into her store. "Thank you so much.", he tells her. He does notice Zoiya and Dylan arriving, but as he doesn't know them, and feels no immediate need to sacrifice them to cover his escape yet, he cautiously turns his attention back to Gina.

There's at least one familiar face that comes in. "Mae!" She exclaims as she goes over to greet the woman, "It's good to see you." In fact Hans even goes over to the beautiful inked woman and nudges her hand, as if he might want some petting from this one. Yes, she did warn Dylan about the animals which makes things interesting. However, it would be rude to not acknowledge James so before she gets too distracted she tells him, "You're welcome and, no money, it's complimentary. I'm glad you like it. It's nothing gourmet and writing, oh yes it's an amazing art, one I dabble in myself from time to time."

Speaking of animals though, there's the cat and Queso is not in the mood for crowds. Either that or something else spooks him and his back archs and his tail turns into its 'bottle brush' form. It could be anything really, cats are so moody, or it could cause poor James or anyone else to get only more on edge. Hera doesn't seem to pay attention to the 'blow up' cat for now though. It's not everyone that Hans walks up to and she greets Dylan as well, "Hi, I'm Hera." she extends a hand to him, "Welcome. Can I get you anything to drink?"

Mae gets to her feet and squeezes Hera with a hug, grinning down at Hans as she gives the dog a ruffle around his ears. She's vaguely familiar with Gina so she shoots the woman a brief smile before she kneels down to commune with the dog and say hello. "Hera, this is Dylan, I promised I'd bring him in to meet you." She tilts her head up, her eyes moving from the gallery owner to the tall man she dragged inside with her.

"I'd love a glass of whatever you have open, if you have any wine out." She says, and after listening to James for a few beats she, nods in his direction, giving Hans a moment to get away. "Afternoon." She says, waving at him before she points at one of the paintings displayed on the wall. She has a few quiet words for Dylan before she watches Queso across the room. Bottle brush cat is pretty amusing, all told.

"So many amazing ones," He says to Mae, even as he's turning in place to get a better view of them all. It's only when his gaze sweeps over Hera, James and Gina that a big, huge, lopsided smile is flashed there way. His attention is momentarily distracted as Hans nudges up against the dancer, and the dog? He too gives that big, bright and overly cheerful smile flashed his way. "So pretty!" It's a hand extended out into the corner of his gaze that has his head suddenly tug back up, those blue eyes going big for a second as he realizes it's him she's speaking to. "Oh! Hi." A beat of a pause, features scrunching up, "Rink works too."

Out Dylan's hands comes to return the shake as Mae introduces them, and then his own head is shaking back and fourth. "Oh. Drink? No." Another small, lingering pause, before he murmurs, "Thank you, though."

"You sound upset, James." Gina says, her voice steady and distantly observant, like a therapist might sound. "The holidays getting you done? Always have to watch out for those Christmas Blues." Another of those not-quite smiles. There's a raised brow at his mention of writing-as-art -- which appropriately lowers when he adds the caveat there. "I did art therapy for a while. It didn't take." Gina pulls her attention away from James, checking out the artwork around with a look that can't quite be called disinterest, but certainly doesn't convey appreciation. But her attention is drawn towards the enthusiastic trio over there, not at all returning Dylan's smile. But she looks over at the group-- thoughtfully, more than she does the art.

James looks surprised as Hera says the coffee is complimentary, tilting his head as if deciding if this is a trap. He's read about this stuff- fairies give you presents and when you accept them, you're trapped forever. Then again, he is mere inches from his own personal archenemy, so maybe having the protection of the fae courts on his side might be a good thing. He lifts his coffee towards the departing Hera as she heads over towards the others, in a show of gratitude, and Dylan's smile is returned politely, if far less brightly. Still, he appreciates that the others are there. More eyewitnesses means it's probably less likely that Gina will unhinge her jaw and devour him whole. As Gina speaks again, he quickly turns his attention back to her. "It's the blue cats you have to watch out for.", he replies, apropos of apparently nothing. When she mentions her unsuccessful stint at art therapy, though, it's his turn to raise an eyebrow. "Have you considered shock therapy instead?" They are the best of friends, he and Gina. Just the best.

Hera looks over in James' and Gina's direction as if she is a little confused but, she doesn't know them, best to stay out of their business, at least that's the idea she initially has. Not meaning to be intrusive, but polite, she asks Gina, "Can I get you something to drink Miss?" She keeps her ears open for any request but she didn't forget Mae's mention of wine, "White Zinfandel ok?" she enquires, "And, I think Hans missed you."

Yeah, the dog waves his tail a bit when he looks at Mae. Queso, for whatever reason, still seems a bit poofed. "I'm glad you like the place." She tells Dylan, "And the Zinfandel is chilled, just opened it this morning."

Mae tries not to laugh out loud at the mention of shock therapy, fails, but manages to keep her laugh to the appropriate volume, hidden behind her hand. "White Zinfandel sounds lovely, Hera. Thank you." She turns her attention to the dog, giving him a solemn look as she ruffles his ears with her inked fingers. "I missed you too Hans. It's been almost a week!" She teases, petting him gently. "Hans this is Dylan." She takes hold of Dylan's hand and lets him take over the petting so she can watch Gina and James, because that seems downright intriguing.

"I was telling him about your pottery classes and some of the other stuff you want to get going, Hera. Then I told him that I promised to drag him down here with some of his sketches to show you." She glances at the messenger bag that Dylan rarely goes anywhere without. "How have things been while I've been working?"

"Mae's been talking it up," Dylan responds to Hera, offering her a warm smile as as he comes to finally sit down, his hand given over to let Mae offer it out towards Hans. Once more the dog is offered a big, warm smile, letting Hans sniff away as much as he likes while the artist flickers his gaze between James and Gina. But the bulk of his focus goes back to the manager of the place, even as his free fingers pat his messenger bag, slinging it off to settle at the base of the table they've chosen. "If you'd like to see sometime." Up and down his head bobs enthusiastically, even as he muses, "Pottery classes. Sound fun. Advanced ones, that is." His hand curls in, giving a tap against his chest as he explains, "Art Major."

Gina doesn't laugh, but her not-quite-smile doesn't fade. "You've heard of the Blue Cat rockabilly guys? I'm touched, James. You keep expanding your musical repetoire for me." Gina says, but the words sound-- not hollow, but like there's some undertone to it. "Or you mean the other blue cats." A shrug, she apparently not deigning to give his concern any merit before she raises both brows at James, "Such a nice guy, concerned for my mental health. Are you volunteering to try and shock me, Becker?" A smirk, before she looks towards Hera and says, "If you've got caramel sauce, black coffee with with that. If not, just water." Gina's tone doesn't even change between the two people.

It's not the first time people have looked askance at a Gina/James interaction. Probably won't be the last. James just sips his coffee as she speaks, pausing as she mentions 'other blue cats'. Does she know? Did she send them? He narrows his eyes a little at her. And then the topic is dismissed, so James quietly files the answer to that question as 'almost certainly'. "Sure. I've got some exposed wiring at home-", he begins to say, and then realizes what he just did. Did he just... invite her into his house? Goddamit, James. Do you want vampires? Because that's how you get vampires. He is so concerned with this that he almost misses the fact that she got his last name wrong. Again. He's starting to suspect she's doing that on purpose. He straightens up, clears his throat, and stands up. "Neveryoumind.", he grumbles at Gina, and then looks over to Hera as he takes a couple more flyers. "Hey! Uhm, thanks for the hospitality. Really, lovely place here- I'm gonna take a few of these to show my friends, yeah?", he calls towards her, before downing the rest of his coffee quickly. Gulp gulp buzz. A glance at Gina. A narrowing of eyes. A silent finger points at his hoodie, which has the words 'You are dangerously close to being killed off in my next novel' printed on it. And then he turns and heads off, trying not to run or make sudden moves, so as not to trigger Gina's hunting instincts.

Mae glances at Dylan, watching him interact with Hans, maybe there is a puppy in the future, one can never tell. She swings her attention toward Gina, a smile playing at her lips. "You and that guy been friends long?" She asks, a touch of a mischievous smile blooming finally. She gets herself a glass of wine, takes a sniff at it before she sips. "How is business going for you down at the diner?" She asks, using Dylan as a leaning pole as she converses with the diner owner. "I haven't been able to stop in for a while, but it's great for breakfast after I get off work."

Once Hans is not going to bite his hand off - not that Dylan seems concerned about it - the artist is leaning back against Mae to help keep her propped up while he has other things to do. That big, huge smile is flashed to the dog as he flips open his messenger bag, tugging out his sketchpad and a pencil. Puppy? Yes, almost certainly. His head remains tucked down as he flips past so many pages until he finds a blank one, and out his tongue comes to consider before he starts, those big blue eyes enraptured by Hans. He'll leave it to Mae to be the social butterfly of the pair, especially when it comes to people who dont' return smiles!

James can see it-- and probably knows Gina WANTS him to see-- that flicker of satisfaction, the growing smirk when she's invited into her house. "Cool. Don't worry, though. I won't take it the wrong way." Gina assures, straightening as she watches him prepare to flee in silence. When he points at his hoodie, she-- just traces a heart in the air, and makes a shooing motion. That hard-to-pin-down smile (smirk? Sarcasm? taunting? Amused? All of the above?) turns towards Mae next. "Not friends." She corrects in a mild voice. "Unrequited love. He's so caring and affectionate, isn't he?" It's so, so hard to tell if Gina is being serious or not, before she shrugs. "Same as usual. Everybody likes decent food they don't have to cook."

"Unrequited love. Interesting." Mae takes a sip of her wine, nodding at Gina's response. "Damn right, since I can't cook, I'll take diner food any day after work. She gives Queso a look, rubbing her fingers together as she tries to coax the cat in her direction. She glances over her shoulder at Dylan and aims a smile at him. "Going to draw something?" She asks quietly, her eyes moving from Dylan to the notebook that he's pulled out. She turns back to smile at Gina again, happy to be social for now. "First time in here or is this one of your haunts?"

"Any day?" Comes Dylan's idle thoughts about food, not that he seems all that invested in just which way the wind blows when ht comes to take out. "Yeah. Hans," He says, eyes narrowing to peer at the dog, head tipping first to the left, and then to the right. Over he leans, all to give a kiss against the top of Mae's shoulder, and then that pencil sets to work , even has his legs tuck up beneath him. "Head shot, I think. He'll look..." A beat of a pause, not quite able to get the words to come out all at once as he gives an audible swallow, "majestic."

Hera had been distracted by one thing or another so, unfortunately, she may not get the opportunity to wish James a formal goodbye. "Thank you!" she tries to shout out at him as she comes back in from tending other business. "I'm not a good cook either, really. When I plan to have Jade and Thewlis over some of the dishes, well, don't tell them this but they might end up being, store bought, I don't know." Then she hears the word draw and her ears immediately perk up. "Sketching? Really?" Sketching has, and probably always will be, one of her passions. She then looks over at what Dylan brought and almost blurts out, "Ok, if you are a sketch artist you have GOT to show me some of your work, seriously!" That gets her very excited, so excited that the dog turns his head over at her and gives her a strange look. Queso, in the meantime, deflates a bit and begins to lick himself. Yup, bathe in public, why not?

Gina doesn't say or do anything else to confirm or deny the nature of her and James's relationship-- besides that ambiguous smirk. It turns into a shrug at Mae's question, "Not really. Never was big into art. More of an audio girl." As can be proven by the sheer breadth and depth of music that plays at the diner - everything from tribal chants to experimental techno, vaudeville songs to today's pop hits, and sometimes odd combinations of those in playlists whose themes only Gina can figure out. "Can't play for shit, but I can appreciate it." Gina's attention is distracted by the movement from the cat, and she idly asks, "Cat mind strangers or not?"

There is a brief, but warm, smile on her face as Hera comes over to check out Dylan's art. She nods at him when he says that he's going to sketch Hans. "I can see it being majestic." She says, an agreeable expression on her face. She continues to sip her wine, reaching out to give Hans a scritch behind his ears for being such a good dog. "He does lots of different kinds of sketches." She is talking up Dylan's art, mostly as a filler because she has no clue what else to say at the moment. "You sure you don't want something to drink, Dyls? She has coffee."

Up Dylan's head comes when Hera at first mentions sketching, as if art of the animals is strictly forbidden. Her next exclamation draws that big, lopsided smile to grace his features, his head bobbing up and down in exagerated motions as he says, "Sure! I brought lots," He promises, and when that messenger bag is flipped back open.. it might be a half a dozen sketch pads he has with him. "I'm making a comic," He explains, in those shorter sentences, a flash of a look towards the dancer next to him. "Helped inspire me." It's a blink towards Mae, a small grimace as he murmurs, "Coffee? Uuuuhhhmmm. Wine." Yes, no caffeine for him!

The first pad is opened, and shoved over towards Hera. The first one? It's a comic book style front cover, all in shades of gray and black. It's titled Grayscale, with the name of the character beneath the sketch: Firefly. Does it look a lot like Mae? Why yes, it does. She's depicted as a woman in a short t-shirt and a pair of ripped blue jeans, with just a splash of color added in on her eyes that have that orangish-yellow hue of her name sake, the firefly. That same color is in so many tiny, small motes around her hand. If Hera flips through? She'll see other similar posters of the other main characters ( as can be found under Dylan's wiki profile of Grayscale and Grayscale shorts, to save spamming the crap out of people! 🙂 )

Hera isn't rude to Gina, though she still doesn't quite know how to peg her just yet. "Normally, Queso doesn't mind, but he does things as he wants to." Duh, Queso is a cat, duh, of course that's the way it is. Queso just sits there licking and licking. There may be hairballs in his future. In the meantime Hans goes in for some Mae snuggles, because she's cool like that. When wine is mentioned Hera rushes over to get the rest of the white zin and she returns with a few glasses. "Oh wow!" she exclaims as Dylan tells her about his project. Indeed she does flip through, her eyes going wide as she seems entranced. Another sketch artist oh yes, what a glorious find!

Mae seems pretty proud of Dylan and his accomplishments and talents, so when Hera comes over to look at the sketches, she's trying not to grin proudly. "His work is very lifelike." She says, as if she needs to. The sketchbooks speak for themselves. She lets the artists talk and leans down to talk quietly to Hans, telling him what a good boy he is while she scratches his ears. He already knows he's a good boy, she's just helping him to remember, clearly. She takes a break only to sip at her wine, but seems to be going slow with it today, enjoying the wine rather than just drinking it down.

Another sketch pad is pulled out, and this one? Is of a variety of people. Mae, Love what is likely his parents. A third? It shows landscapes of around town and the next towns over, too. One series shows the college he attends: sometimes it's lifelike and captured just as it is, other times it takes on a whimisical, airy feel with heart shaped clouds and a couple holding hands in front of it, and others? It looks like the maw of an animal ready to eat you, giving that sense of dread that Gina inspired within James. "Thanks," He murmurs with a touch of shyness, "Working with Ruby. Going to do a," His features scrunch up, trying to find the word for it, "launch event? Something. Sell a book of the comic, do signings, give away sketches." There is that beat of a pause, more to come, but it takes Dylan a bit to work it out, "Still planning it."

Hera flips through the sketches and continues to seem more and more eager. "Oh wow." she says, "You know, I'd be more than happy to feature your work here, I really would. What are your favorite sketches? One you would like to show to the public." She looks away from the book to watch Dylan's reaction, eager to see if he's ready to be showcased.

Gina's been watching the cat all this time, watching it with an inscrutable expression for far too long. And then she looks back to the other three, "Not bad for an art place. Bye." She says, and then simply... lifts her hood and walks back out into the night. That simple, that natural, as if it wasn't borderline rude.

Mae beams as Hera says she wants to feature some of Dylan's work in the gallery. She suppresses the urge to clap, but she really wants to. She is trying to behave, not butt in, keeping her attention on the dog for now. She watches Dylan, and seems to be paying a special amount of attention to the words he's offering Hera. It makes her smile.

It's a big gulp he gives, not when he's asked if he's ready to be showcased, but to pick his favorite one. His teeth catch against his lower lip, features scrunching up as he considers. "Really enjoy my comic," He offers up at first, and all of those drawings of comic panels and poster type fronts. "But," His head wobbles, thinking it all through, and yes, there is a long glance towards Mae, and then back to Hera. Dylan? Is horrible about making decisions! "Also really like," It's yet another pad that is brought out, each seeming to have it's own unique theme. This one? Is more of nature. It's the Firefly Forest, and Mae will surely recognize this particular sketch from the first night they'd met.

At first, it seems realistic enough, having caught the trees. Splashes of color added in for a faint mist of fireflies. But the trunks? They each hold a face. Some seem to be in ecstasy, others in misery, more happy or sad. It's a subtle thing, the way it catches the emotions, how the bark is drawn to make those faces without making it right in your face.

Hera is smiling herself, but she waits for the response from Dylan. Then she looks at more of his work and says with much enthusiasm. "This is all great! I would love to feature you!" she exclaims, then, as if on cue, her phone goes off. "Oh bummer, well yeah, let me go take care of that." Business comes first of course, and when students sign up for classes, that meas more money and a better way to keep the doors open.