Dylan rubs at his eyes, trying to push out the sheer grogginess as he struggles to focus on the sewing machine in front of him. Repairing a seam was easy, so he had no clue why his fingers were so jittery and uncomfortable, or why it took more focus than usual.
"Danny, you pull this again, and I'm kicking your ass." He mutters bitterly, shoulders slumping. "I should get paid for this shit, this is bullshit."
"Heyy, Dylan! How ya feeling babes?" Maria drapes herself across his shoulders, and he groans, leaning back to stare up at her blankly. She snorts, raising an eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"
"I feel like shit, I have to finish this stupid seam and it is practically inevitable Danny is going to fuck his shit up. How do you think I feel?" He mutters, and she huffs, arms tightening around his shoulders in an awkward, half hug.
"If it's any help, that concealer for your eye bags absolutely disguised just how desperately you need sleep." Maria chirps. Dylan squints.
"Was that.. sarcasm?"
"Nooo, of course not. I would never dream of being sarcastic, especially about something so serious." That was very clearly sarcasm, judging from Maria's shit-eating grin.
"You're such an asshole, you know I'm bad at sarcasm." Dylan groans, realigning the seam and starting up the machine. Maria leaning on him like this, with all her weight, was strangely grounding, forcing some of the haze to push back into his head. He makes a note to try and get her to do it more often.
"Oh trust me, I know. I dunno how you manage to completely miss social cues all the time." She snorts, her elbow digging into his shoulder.
"Social cues are hard. Like?? Did you know that ending a call after you've said all your farewells can be taken as hanging up on someone?? I just learned that the other day, it's such bullshit."
"That's a thing?? Damn, maybe I'm not as good at social cues as I thought."
Dylan huffs, and Maria leans forward, brown eyes wide.
"I dunno how you always manage to make your costumes look so pretty." Maria huffs, examining the finished product. Dylan has to agree, it does look pretty good. The rich red velvet contrasted nicely with the lace, and even though the fabrics were cheap (and fake), they didn't look it.
"I was actually thinking about getting an after school job at the theater three blocks down. The one by that dojo. I just never seem to find the time."
"Dude, you should totally do it! I go to that dojo all the time, we could walk there together." Maria grins. "Plus, if you're really lucky, you might be able to meet Chris Bradford, he's coming back to New York for a convention."
"Oh, really?" Dylan honestly couldn't care less about Chris Bradford. He didn't even know who the guy was. "Wait, which guy is this? You tend to follow a lot of celebrities, it can get hard to keep track of them all."
"Dude, he owns the dojo I got to, keep up." Maria huffs, brushing her bangs out of her face. "I mentioned him last week."
Dylan frantically searches his memories, frowning. She had mentioned him, at one point, in her many rants about various martial arts matches and competitions.
"Didn't he get some sort of special award or something? I remember you telling me about that."
"Yep! I'm honestly super excited for him to come into town, every year he comes back to New York and picks out some people to go on to the advanced class. Dunno what he teaches them, but it must be awesome cause they start getting belts like crazy."
"Huh. Ya know, I had considered signing up there for a bit, but ended up not having the money."
Maria pushes off him, and the affronted look she sends him tells him exactly what she thinks of that. Not that Maria would ever hesitate to do that herself.
"Dude, I could have paid for it. My parents wouldn't have given a shit if I asked for an extra hundred every month."
"That's because your parents are insane, and you already try and buy me stuff all the time." Dylan huffs.
"Yeah, and you never let me. Come onnnn, dude, you know my love language is gift giving, let me do this for you."
"Hey, keep your weird sugar baby shit over there!" Someone, probably Grayson, hollers, and Dylan burst out laughing. It takes less than a second for Maria to join in.
"Oh my god, he's right-!" Dylan gasps out, the sentence barely pieces together with the laughs bubbling out of his chest. Maria is right alongside him, and Dylan can see her hot pink braces and crooked teeth, set in a wide, wonderful, grin.
"Let me spoil you~!" The exaggerated, ridiculous waggling over her eyebrows makes it even worse.
"Dude, dude stop, I'm literally losing my mind, oh my god."
"Oh but Dee~!"
"Maria-!" She dodged the thrown bit of fabric, unfortunately, and cackles.
"You're a nightmare." He grumbles, and she snickers, draping herself across his shoulders again, nearly making him topple back in his chair.
"You love me for it."
"I hate that you're right."
"But you're so coming to the dojo. I'm dragging you there once we let out."
"Let me call my mom, then fine."
(A/N: Maria is going to be surprisingly plot relevant as time goes on. Watch out for that >:3)
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