Olivia finished packing up her brushes and canvas, shoving it all unceremoniously into the cabinet. She'd spent the entire day at her easel, unable to come up with inspiration, though her newest painting was meant to be done by tomorrow at noon. It was nine-thirty, and the skies were dark and star-flecked. Most of her colleagues had left an hour or so before.

The ginger-haired girl walked out of her work building, shutting off the lights, and locking the doors as she went. Olivia pulled her coat tighter around her as she walked, bag over her shoulder. She headed toward the little coffee shop she always went to after work, pulling her wallet out.

Stepping inside, she realized it was a little more packed than usual. Not overdone, but with a whole new group of people taking up the back corner table.

Looking around at the familiar coffee shop, Olivia didn't see any differences. The walls were painted their light cream color, with the usual pictures of past decades hanging on the walls. The floor was nicely tiled to match the walls, only a bit darker in color. The tables varied in sizes, ranging from square two-seaters, to round tables meant for at least eight people. The large group in the corner had pushed two of these tables together to fit them all. The chairs were a striking black, and round in shape, meant for comfort. The shop usually got a decent amount of customers, not too many, and not too little, but only a few people returned often enough to have made friendships with the employees.

Olivia was one of these few people.

She walked to the counter, ordered her usual, paid for it, then moved to the side, waiting for her drink. As she waited, she kept a close eye on the group in the corner, curious about who they were, and why they'd chosen this quiet coffee shop, rather than a bar. They weren't particularly loud, but they couldn't be considered quiet. They talked at a normal volume, but would sometimes burst into raucous laughter. With a closer look, Olivia realized that there were between fifteen and twenty people sitting at the table. The shop had never been so busy.

There was the sound of something hitting the counter top from behind her. Olivia turned to take her coffee and thank Damon, the employee who'd just set her coffee down. After taking one more glance at the group, she headed for her usual table, on the other side of the shop. She slid into the booth and slid a small book out of her bag. After glancing at the cover and the title, The Lovely Bones, Olivia flipped to the page she had shoved her bookmark into during the previous night. Sitting there, sipping her coffee and reading her book, Olivia was at peace with the world, as she was every time she came to the coffee shop.

Too absorbed in her book, she didn't realize that the large group had gone silent, nor had she noticed that a man had slid into the seat opposite her. She only realized he was there when he cleared his throat. Holding up a finger to tell him to wait a second, she finished her page, then closed her book. Looking up, Olivia realized that it was a member of the group, and glancing at the corner, she realized they were all watching him.

The ginger looked back at the man, taking in his face. It was a little round, though not enough to be considered unattractive. His jaw was slightly shifted so that it was more on the right side of his face than in the center. His dark hair had clearly not been cut recently, though it was well kept, for it hung around his face. It was at a perfect balance between hiding his face, and keeping it in view. A bit of facial hair was lining his jaw, but it seemed to suit him, even though he did seem young. Overall, he was good-looking.

"Er, hello," Olivia greeted, feeling a bit awkward.

"Hey there," the man replied, smiling.

"Can I help you with something?" Olivia asked, fidgeting with her book.

"No," he said, his smile not fading.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but what do you want?"

"Can't a guy come talk to a pretty lady when she's sitting in a coffee shop, alone?"

"Maybe a guy could if he were to introduce himself properly."

"Joey. Joey Richter," he said, holding out his hand. "And you are?"

"Olivia Tucker," she responded, taking his hand and shaking it. As she pulled her hand away, she felt a slight tingling on her hand. She looked down at it, then back at Joey. "Um, might I ask why your friends over there are staring?"

Joey looked at his group, then back at Olivia. "They like to know what's going on at all times. Don't mind them, though."

"Alright, I won't," Olivia said, allowing a smile to cross her face. "Who are they though?"

"Just some of my friends. Most I went to college with. We've stuck together since then," the crooked-jawed man stated. "I'm going to tell you all their names, so don't say anything until I'm done. Alright?"

"Alright."

"So, there's Lauren, Joe, Nick, Matt, Jaime, Brian, Joe, Meredith, Chris, Darren, Brian, Julia, Denise, Jim, Dylan, Clark, Nico, and Jeff." Joey said, ticking them all off on his fingers as he went. "Matt and Nick are brothers. Brian 1 and Meredith are together, have been for God knows how long. Lauren seems to have a relationship with food. Joe 1 is with a girl named Sarah, and has been since college. Joe 2, we refer to as JoMo, as his last name is Moses. He has his own one man shows, so is only with us for a few weeks at a time. Clark's our music manager, and piano player. I guess if you were to stick around, you could learn a bit more about them."

Olivia sat silent for a minute, processing this all. It was a lot to take in. "Two questions."

"Yes?

"One, by stick around, do you mean here, in the coffee shop, in town, or in your life?" Olivia asked, smiling slightly, but unsure of what he might mean.

"All three, if that's what you'd like."

"I don't have plans for tonight, so I could stay here as long as you like. I live here, so I plan on staying in town. And we'll see about that third option." The ginger took a sip of her coffee, taking a second to think of how to word her next question. "Also, when you say that Clark is your music manager and piano player, what do you mean? What do you guys do?"

Joey ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous about what Olivia's reaction would be. "We're a musical theatre group. We make parody musicals, as well as original musicals. We've been on a few tours as well. And, uh, we call ourselves Starkid," he said, not making eye contact.