Erza sat across the table from her bestfriend, Jellal. Sun light streamed through the cozy window and reflected in her tea. Jellal scribbled on his paper before him in silence.
"You asked to meet me at your favorite café for this?" She sighed. He looked at her and rolled his eyes.
"It's our favorite café." He went back to his sketching. "And besides, I thought you supported this." She took a sip of her tea. It was cold.
"I support you and your ideas of art, not you calling me down to the café to make me sit pretty for you to sketch." She huffed, though really, she wasn't as annoyed as she tried to act. She had enjoyed her run down to the café after her modeling this morning. She had been having a dreadful morning, fighting with the photographer, until she saw his message on her phone. He had a knack for texting right when she needed him.
"It's for my class. It has to be done by yesterday." He paused, grinning. "I asked for extra time, and I told my teacher it would be a masterpiece. So you are stuck with me." She groaned.
"Why me? You have several other people you could draw!" She knew his answer to this.
"You're a model. You're used to it."
More accurately, she was used to modeling because he constantly drew her hands, foot or face while they grew up. He had always been interested in how he could make a plain piece of paper transform into something that looked so life-like. Their parents has been friends and stuck them together in a play pen at a young age, their friendship, or as Erza calls it, her tolerance for Jellal, started there.
She stared at his blue hair idly. Artists and their "creativity" that spread. Erza didn't concider herself to be an artist. She wasn't the one taking pictures, and she certainly wasn't like Jellal, painting, sculpting and drawing his life out before his eyes. She frowned absent-mindedly. Perhaps there should be more Jellal's in this world. If he wanted to, she thought, he could draw anything and make it look beautiful.
"Stop frowning." She blinked and set her face back to that, emotionless slight smile expression he always made her put on when he made her portrait. She mumbled an apology and looked around the café. The waitresses were smiling at customers and shuffling to bring them tea and sweets. She spotted a small child sitting beside a couple stuffing his face full of biscuits and her mouth twitched into a smile. Her eyes floated to a bouquet near her and she looked from the soft green leaves to the deep red roses before blinking at Jellal. He was scribbling quickly before her, looking at her, then down, then back up, then down to the paper again. She swirled a spoon in her cold tea. A flash caught her eye outside the window, and she looked to see a man walking down the street towards the café , a camera in his hand, the light glistening off of it. She huffed and stood. Jellal stood as well, throwing more money than necessary on the table before handing her a beanie and walking out the door.
She wasn't that popular, she tried to tell herself as she pushed her hair into the hat. But she knew that she was popular. Popular enough to be followed by gossip magazine photographers. She would never call them, paparazzi, because she wasn't popular enough for those. No. Just miniscule photographers. She was kidding herself, she knew. Jellal proved it. Ever since she started modeling he had learned to always carry a hat for her hair in case of this, because she would never bring one for herself. He could put away his art supplies in seconds, still as neat and organized as if just bought from the story. He was used to it, and she hated how she put him through it, so she paid him back by sitting still for hours, while he drew her.
"All this for beauty." She murmured as she walked after Jellal in a calm and orderly fashion. When she caught up to him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. The photographer passed by with only a glance to his blue hair. That was normal. Everyone glanced at Jellal's brightly dyed hair.
"It's interesting," He mused. "How you don't want to be seen, but I do." He grinned and let her go.
Yes. It was interesting. She rolled her eyes. It was interesting in the fact that she still met him at cafés in large cities to be drawn when they would likely attract attention, if not from her natural hair, then from his unnatural locks, if not from that, then from the fact that Erza Scarlet was at a café with an unknown handsome man! She had seen that before, three months ago, in capital letters scrolling across a magazine. Fortunately, Jellal dyed his hair more often than not. Erza scarlet seen with a fair haired, handsome man! Erza scarlet seen with a man with purple colored hair! Erza Scarlet seen with a crimson-haired man! Each time they were seen together, it happened to be a different colour. Erza didn't know if it was just good luck that Jellal had impeccable timing, or that he had a secret magic talent that absurd.
Jellal walked to the park, his bag of papers and pencils flung over his shoulder. This was there routine. The few times they were seen, or were tailed, they lost the guy, and headed for the park. Jellal hated leaving a picture unfinished.
She scratched at Jellal's beanie on her head. She hated wearing hats. That Café was special. She had lived a few blocks from that café when she was little and used to love visiting with Jellal, are frankly, anyone else. She admired their different blends of tea and how they tasted all slightly of peaches. The owners had not minded her sudden visit to their café several months ago when she was to upset and engulfed by tears to even think before going in and after her melt down, regarding reasons she would hate to admit, they assured her that she could come back anytime, and there wouldn't be cameras in her face.
So she found herself their more often than not, enjoying it while she could. It was a big city, but eventually, they would track her down to that little café and make it impossible for her to get to.
She blinked, almost running into a tree, realizing that they had reached the park.
"You sure do day dream." Jellal mumbled as he sat down under a tree and motioned for her to sit on a bench.
"It's nice that's all." She said, thought that had nothing to do with anything. He nodded and fished out a pencil. She settled onto the bench.
"Have you talked to anyone recently?" She asked. She learned that if she asked the right questions he would respond enough that she could call it a conversation, instead of nods or grunts.
"Natsu ran into me off campus. He's head over heels for Lucy. He's planning a proposal." He muttered, and started scribbling. Erza smiled. Who would have guessed a History major and author would get along so well. She did, actually. She had met Lucy briefly after a photoshoot, before Lucy had anything other than a column in a magazine published. They had hit it off, and grabbed a drink over an interview where Natsu worked nights as a bartender with Gajeel. One thing led to another, before Erza could blink, Natsu and Lucy were dating. Erza guessed it would take Natsu a month or two to even get up the nerve to buy a ring. He often dived into things without thinking, but if he is serious about Lucy, he will be beside himself with panic over a proposal.
"That's nice. Lucy must be very happy." She offered. "Gajeel met someone named Levy. Last I heard, they had moved in together." She scratched at the beanie again, frowning,
"That's a little shocking for Gajeel." Jellal grinned. "The girl must be a monster!" He smiled at her through the bright sun light. "How have you been holding up? It's been weeks since we have even talked." She slumped a little at the thought.
"Busy?" She said. "I had a shoot for Angel's Fall selection and it took nearly the whole month." She smiled. The company that she most commonly worked for was Angel, they were known for their frills, bows and lace. Erza favored them more, she couldn't help but feel like an angel herself when she was practically built into a dress. It was barely spring, the ground was still muddy in spots (She briefly worried about Jellal's pants) but the company always stayed ahead, so when she was called in to model the fall collection, she wasn't surprised.
"The always wanted, Erza Scarlet. What do you think?" He smiled and turned his paper around, showing her his drawing. She stared at her twin. It looked exactly like her, from her hair, and eyes to the bridge of her nose. She frowned. She didn't have any lips. A scarf wrapped around her neck to just below her nose. She wasn't wearing a scarf today.
"What happened to my mouth?" She asked. "I thought you wanted to draw me as I was." He grinned.
"Your lips are hard to draw!"
"What about it being due yesterday?" She frowned deeper. If he was afraid of looking bad, he shouldn't have said he would have a masterpiece done for his teacher.
"It's part of the art, Erza. There is a scarf there." He rolled his eyes.
"But I'm not wearing the scarf today. It isn't realistic." She huffed. She didn't know why it bothered her, she never cared if a photographer asked her to tilt her face a different angle to get the better look of it. But coming from a friend, saying that her lips were hard to draw, while the rest of her looked exquisitely identical. Well, she felt a little insulted.
"Erza, come on. " He stood smiling. "Let's go somewhere else."
She continued to frown but got up. He acted as if it was nothing, so perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps her lips were just hard to draw, whatever that meant. And although she wanted to pester him about it, make him take it back, just to make her feel better, the possibility of "somewhere else" made her happy. "Somewhere else" meant where ever she wanted to go, she could choose, and oh, it had been forever since she had a long day off to rest or explore.
The new Ice-cream store on Wallace Street. Definitely. She smiled and forgot for a moment what it meant to be Erza Scarlet, and instead became what it meant to be anyone else, anywhere else.