A familiar bustle rang in the air, chairs pushed in and conversations beginning as lunchtime rolled around. With a sigh, young Susie Campbell put down her script, happy to let her voice rest. Unfortunately, it'd be so very soon it'd be put again to good use.

"H-hey!"

It was just a second too late she stepped out of her recording booth, her heels getting caught on the door before she could catch up with the recording technicians. Her arm was left outstretched, reaching in vain for the now distant sight of her coworkers. Once again, she was left behind as they all planned to go to the bar for lunch, just like every Tuesday afternoon.

As they turned the hall's corner, her shoulders drooped and so did her expression.

"Now ain't that a shame, leaving behind the talent of the show!"

As was his way, Norman seemed to appear without anyone noticing he entered the room at all. His arms were folded and there was a slight lean in his stance, looking out at the departing men with a scolding attitude. Realizing her arm was still outstretched to them, she abruptly used it to push a few strands of auburn hair behind her ears, flattening her lips and looking away from the projectionist to hide her embarrassment.

Norman didn't comment, merely shaking his head at the thoughtlessness of the technicians.

"Mm, mm, mm. Just ain't proper." Finally, she saw him turn to face her, a small smile adding yet more dents and wrinkles in his cheeks. "Now, if I may, I'd like to offer to make it right."

Susie further messed with her hair, a light flush coming to her face. Yes, she understood that Norman's proposal was completely platonic; he was much older than she and always carried with a fatherly- even grandfatherly- aura when addressing her. And on top of it, this was certainly not the only time the kind soul would have taken her out to eat. No, it wasn't the friendliness that took her aback, not when they had had lunch together before. She was a woman that above all else strived for respect. This didn't mean demanding others to pay attention to her- quite the opposite, especially given that her choice of acting hid all but her voice from the public eye. It meant that she wanted to be appreciated, that she was seen as credible in her work. She desired to truly be one that brought her talent to the table, gambling it with more in return than she had walked in with. And so, the dismissiveness of the people who captured her voice in pristine quality had left her unsure of how much value she truly had.

Norman was a patient man, at least for his friend, and so he made sure she'd see that his gentle smirk did not waver a single second.

"You're too kind, you know," she finally answered.

"No, no," the man replied a few swings of the head, tilting his hat back in place once he had stopped. "I just know t' give someone their dues."

She returned his grin with her own, painted lips obvious next to paler skin. Yes, she definitely had value, even if only seen by the man who saw everything in this studio.

Light from the window made a square over the table between them, some of it crossing over the bridge of his nose. They were very different people; dark skin, liverspots, and grey, balding hair on one side; fair skin, beauty marks, and delicate curls on the other. And yet, they were never out of place. The two studio employees were only experiencing yet another moment of gossip and complaints, as they enjoyed doing.

But the subject changed for once.

"Why do ya dress up to work every day?"

It was a casual but striking question, stated as Norman set down his iced tea. It wasn't the first time someone had asked Susie such a thing, but it was usually worded…differently, to put it more kindly. Certainly, just as taking her out to lunch was, this question also carried with it sincerity rather than something that made her grimace. Regardless, her nervous tick came back again, brushing hair aside as pupils tried to look elsewhere.

"Mr. Drew always tells us that a good outfit leads to good work."

This wasn't satisfying for Norman. "Now y' know people always ignore that, right?" Although Susie already knew this to be true, she hadn't anticipated a counter to her dodgy answer. "Animators- they walk in wearing what they did yesterday! Heck, today I saw Shawn in a shirt with pit stains three days old!"

Susie couldn't hold back a slight smile, awkwardly stretched as she attempted to stay polite with such an image in her head. This wasn't enough to keep the old man from reaching his point.

"Now you- you don't have t' deal with a lot of other working ladies do. No one cares whatcha look like! It's all in the voice!" He paused, staring at her with a furrowed brow to drive it home. "You're in a booth all day. Does it matter how y' look?"

A bit of quiet, the sound of a waiter setting down plates briefly taking over the conversation.

"I guess it just makes me feel...good," she replied. Oh, she wasn't sure if anyone could ever know how much she asked herself what he did. But even so, her answer held truth, and so she was at peace with it.

"Least give your heels a break, girlie."

And somehow the peace within her grew, relieved to know at least someone questioned all she had to put up with.

It seemed that this satiated his fervor for the topic, cap pointed to the window over an expression bent with not only wrinkles but concern. Another, more troubling topic had come to him:

That lately, Joey had gotten...weird

"You know. Extra weird. Mean weird."

That he did, and Susie could only nod in agreement. A heart full of empathy, her gaze followed him out the window, as if they both searched for answers. "I think it's Henry being gone. Took a big toll on Mr. Drew." Her shoulders rose and fell in a small sigh. "They were close…"

Norman gradually turned back at her, his firmness somehow stronger. "Don't like the way he talks to you, Susie."

And certainly, it hit a nerve for Norman to put it so bluntly. Red lips downturned and dark eyebrows rose as she attempted to filter this information. "…Mr. Drew just wants Alice to be perfect is all. Wants to bring out my- my full potential."

She finally returned Norman's gaze, eyes unable to conceal sadness.

"He's just...not so gentle saying so anymore."

A squint again, then a raise of his arm from its lean on the table. It was an opinion so strong it compelled his body to talk alongside his voice. "Doesn't give him the right to talk to a lady like that. Nice lady who does her job, no less."

Her eyes slid to the floor, shoulders drooped. "Yeah," she almost whispered. It was a word invented for agreement, but she used it simply to concede. It was a lot for her to take in, even when Joey had only started being so harsh once young Henry left them. Joey was someone that made everyone feel special- talented. He saw things in them; he saw things in her. And so it was almost infinitely uncomfortable to recognize that his hopes of excellence had turned from encouragement to demands, like souring grapes.

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but Sammy was onto somethin'," Norman added, interrupting her internal struggle, "Told us from the start that Mr. Drew had too big of an ego, too big dreams, and too little being right in the head." The touch of lament in his next words was unexpected. "And it all blowed open now that Henry's up and gone."

Before she could even comment, he had glanced up from another bite in his burger and asked the woman, "Why'd he leave, anyway?"

Norman was and would forever be a snoop, shedding light in every crevasse, even if it'd be his downfall.

Instinctively, eyes widened and lips tightened. She knew. Maybe not much, but she knew- she and Sammy.

It had recently been the cause of some arguments between she and the director. To Susie, the circumstances were a shield for Joey's pain. It was as if he lost a son, and so she had excused this new, volatile sort of irrationality their boss had.

Sammy, however, saw the toxicity of it much clearer.

He had grown more and more passionate about how Joey Drew was not only a bad boss but a bad thing for their lives. He had pushed Henry away, and now he was pushing everyone to their limit. Where Ms. Campbell saw wounds to heal, Mr. Lawrence saw a warning flair. And so, despite their friendship previously being unchallenged by their polar perspectives of the eccentric Mr. Drew, recent times were much more tense.

Refusing to make eye contact, a mutter came. "I-...I wish I knew."

Norman's eyes turned more into slits. Oh, he was definitely in thought, and she could feel him scrutinizing every inch of her. All she could do was hold her breath and stare at her food, trying to remain composed. It was a silent agreement- even a truce- she and Sammy had made. Henry wouldn't have wanted anyone else to know the way Joey treated him after asking his father figure for advice. All Henry searched for was comfort- asking if Joey had thoughts about his partner wanting to move away- and instead, the image he had of the silly man was shattered.

She wouldn't admit it, but so was hers.

Norman, even in all his nosiness, either didn't perceive the truth in her expression or chose to ignore it. "Well, whatever it was, I think he knew what was comin'."

A sigh released from her lungs in both relief and remorse. Quiet again.

Tilting over her shoulder, Susie's chin turned towards the lively interior of the restaurant to distract her mind. There were waiters in casual suits beaming and customers- mostly women- gossiping and waving their wrists in flair to emphasize their words. She returned to Norman with a smile.

"Thanks for taking me to my favorite restaurant." It was a soft voice dipped in honey, not far off from the one she gifted Alice Angel. No, this certainly wasn't the kind of place the projectionist would normally choose for an outing.

"Ah, it's a nice place!" he replied with a dismissive wave. "Good food-" A gaze went over his food once more towards the actress, humor glinting in his eyes. "Good company."

And just like that, she was more herself again, eyelids tightening as dimples pressed into cheeks because of an open-mouthed grin. A small laugh rang tandem. "That we are, Mr. Polk!"

A well-worn gesture was once again put to use, and she held her wrist over the table between them. Gentle and practiced, he took her hand and they rose from their seats simultaneously.

Just so soon, the joy drained from his face as he caught her hand beginning to open a small purse. "Oh no! Not today! I invited you!"

And before she could argue, he opened his wallet with a sharp frown and set down the proper payment.

There was no use in arguing; she already could tell.

"Thank you, Mr. Polk," she thanked him once more. He had a knack for picking out moments where she needed him most. Sammy was her confidant, Wally was her pal, but Norman…

Her smile grew as he turned his back to her, leading the way out.

…Norman was her friend.

His only reply yet another dismissive wave, she let him hold the door open as they stepped back out to a sidewalk baked in sunshine.