Mini storms away from Liv- she's utterly fuming. How… how she could… with Nick… she couldn't even form one coherent thought.
Go figure.
Every emotion that Mini has ever felt, for as long as she can remember, is larger-than-life; be it anger, joy, jealousy, or something else entirely, if Mini feels it, then she feels it completely and all-encompassingly. So when she finally finds a bench and slumps upon it, and her wild rage gives way to a quiet and deep depression, she starts to cry, not knowing or caring who sees.
"Excuse me, miss… are you okay?"
Her head shoots up. A fidgety boy, about her age or maybe a little older, is staring at her. His tangled mess of brown hair looks like it operates upon its own laws of physics (not that Mini knows anything about physics anyway), and he's pushing a baby stroller. Well, that's distasteful. Mini's never liked babies. Kids are all right- actually, she loves kids- but not babies. She wipes the dribbling mascara from her cheeks.
"Yeah, thanks," she says, dismissively. Instead of going away, though, he sits at the far edge of the bench and pulls the stroller up next to him. They sit in silence for a few minutes- Mini contemplates getting up and leaving, but no, that would be tantamount to admitting defeat. He, on the other hand, seems utterly satisfied with the silence; he flashes her an awkward smile and contents himself with the view of the lake.
Suddenly, he speaks. "It's a guy, isn't it?"
Mini is bewildered. "What?"
"A guy. Who's making you upset."
"It's none of your business!" His face, which was tilted toward her, snaps back into a front-facing position; he looks stunned, and frankly, a little upset. She shoots him a conciliatory look. "Sorry… yeah, it's a guy. How'd you know?"
He shrugs. "Lucky guess. I remember how my friends treat… used to treat girls." A shadow passes over his face and Mini decides not to press the issue further. Although she just wants him to go away, part of her wonders what he means by it.
"You want my advice?" he queries. There is no trace of sadness on his face now; it has exploded into the bonny brilliance befitting a young child. Mini is a little taken aback; she almost expects this boy to reveal that he is a sprite or a changeling or Peter Pan, some character from one of the stories her mother told her when she was a young girl, back when the world was all magic and loveliness.
Well, if this one interlude is her only shot at living a fairytale, then here goes.
"Sure."
"You look like one of those dames who knows exactly what she wants in life." Mini smiles; that fits her to a T. "So, figure out what you want- and go get it. If you want him, then go after him." He smiles. "Any guy who didn't want you would be a daft fool. I can tell."
Well, that much Mini agrees with. Nick was an idiot.
"And if he broke your heart… well, fuck him." Mini rolls her eyes. She doesn't need some stranger to tell her that; Grace could say the same thing. Hell, any of her friends could.
"Oh, I see what you're thinking. Anyone could tell you that, right? Well, listen; I've never met you before, and already I can tell a lot about you."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"Like nobody fucks around with you. Like you act like a right bitch most of the time, but on the inside, you're scared as hell and you just want people to like you. So find the people you love, love them as much as you possibly can, and fuck the rest."
She looks at him, not even knowing what to think. "Who are you?"
He shoots a hand forward. "Jonah Jeremiah Jameson. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. And you are?"
Well, if he was going for formalities… "Minerva McGuinness. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jameson."
"Likewise. Well, Miss McGuinness, I certainly hope that you feel better, but I must be off. I'm taking young Albert-" he gestures to the sleeping baby- "out on a walk through the park. Goodbye."
Mini just sits there, stunned; she remembers to wave, says "Goodbye," softly, and watches him walk away.
As JJ strolls down the paved walkway, Albert in tow, he thinks to himself. Yet another successful social interaction under your belt, Jameson. Well done. Although I wonder if she knew that nearly every girl who acts like that is hiding behind a tough-as-bollocks exterior, and consequently could use that particular bit of advice. I'm no mindreader. It's mathematics- it's simple probability at work.
He paused, smiled. Still, I liked her.
