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Envy had been back in New York for a few days. A few intense days, someone – not Envy – might have added. It was taking a fair bit of work to see just how Gideon's untimely demise affected all of her planned appearances and the state of her contracts in general. Turned out Gideon hadn't been interested in making all of his affairs easily accessible.
She had people working on it, though.
And none of it affected the fact that she was starting her North American tour in about a week. Figuring out there weren't any creases to smooth out in that had been top priority, and therefore already cleared. In fact, she'd been out all day today meeting with the select few designers and choreographers she'd decided to keep from Gideon's battalion of helpers. They had a vision, now. It was a lot smaller in some ways than Gideon's had been. Larger in others.
It was hard work. Made her happy, yes, but made her tired as well. She was still adjusting to the change of –– of actually being in charge of things. By herself. It was a feeling all its own.
But she needed something a little lighter and a little more private and personal right now.
Which was why she took a photo of the view outside her living room window. Her apartment was high up, a busy street bustling down below, all bright lights in the fast descending darkness of the evening. With the photo taken, she scrolled through her contacts until she found what she was looking for. James T. Kirk. She figured she almost owed him a version of her that was doing slightly better than she had been, last time. Almost.
So she sent the picture, along with one simple word.
Jealous?
She knew he wouldn't be.
[ooc: NFB and primarily for one, but open for other texts/calls/emails/whatever as well!]
She had people working on it, though.
And none of it affected the fact that she was starting her North American tour in about a week. Figuring out there weren't any creases to smooth out in that had been top priority, and therefore already cleared. In fact, she'd been out all day today meeting with the select few designers and choreographers she'd decided to keep from Gideon's battalion of helpers. They had a vision, now. It was a lot smaller in some ways than Gideon's had been. Larger in others.
It was hard work. Made her happy, yes, but made her tired as well. She was still adjusting to the change of –– of actually being in charge of things. By herself. It was a feeling all its own.
But she needed something a little lighter and a little more private and personal right now.
Which was why she took a photo of the view outside her living room window. Her apartment was high up, a busy street bustling down below, all bright lights in the fast descending darkness of the evening. With the photo taken, she scrolled through her contacts until she found what she was looking for. James T. Kirk. She figured she almost owed him a version of her that was doing slightly better than she had been, last time. Almost.
So she sent the picture, along with one simple word.
Jealous?
She knew he wouldn't be.
[ooc: NFB and primarily for one, but open for other texts/calls/emails/whatever as well!]
