Song: Fly On the Windscreen-- Depeche Mode

Juno

"Take my credit card. Go have fun," Trent said as he handed Juno the slip of blue plastic. The smooth film on the card felt odd to her; she hadn't used a credit card at all but once back in Boston.

"Trent, I can't take your money," Juno whined, attempting to give the card back to its rightful owner. Trent put his hands behind his back with a cocky smirk daubed on his long face.

"Take it," he pressed. "You've been here almost a month. You need real clothes--"

"I do have real clothes!"

"You need some that actually fit!" Trent laughed. "Go on, my treat."

Juno pouted for a second before giving in. "Oh, alright. Fine, but I promise I won't spend too much."

"Don't even worry about spending too much. Max out my card, I don't care. Get whatever tickles your fancy. Even if you find something you think you'd only wear once, or if you find a record of a band you think you might not like but the album cover is cool-- buy it."

Juno cracked a smile, crinkling her nose ever so slightly. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind. I'll be back before dinner. Need me to pick up anything to eat?"

"Don't even think about it. I already gotcha covered," Trent reached into his pocket and tossed his car keys in Juno's direction. She caught them on instinct.  "Go have fun, McCallister. Chill out and treat yourself."

"Firstly, I'm not the one who needs to chill out, Mister Perfectionist," Juno noted as she felt herself grinning devilishly at her roommate. "Secondly, how I can treat myself if you already said that this is your treat for me?"

Trent rolled his eyes playfully. "Shut the fuck up, you know what I meant. Stop being a smartass and get out."

Juno grinned at the hint of sarcasm before saying her goodbyes and trotting outside. She stepped inside Trent's car, withholding a deep breath. It was the first time she drove in almost two years.

***

Driving came to her naturally. Though she forgot how traffic worked and how to turn correctly at some intersections, Juno still managed to get herself to Sunset Boulevard. Driving through Los Angeles gave her a sense of normality, weaving through the traffic of people living average lives as they drove to and from work mid-afternoon. Her biggest concern, though, was damaging Trent's beloved vehicle. It was a silver Porsche. The seats were black leather, and there was a CD player in the dashboard. A telephone was even hooked up to the center console. 

Juno eventually managed to break out of the traffic and pulled into a parking garage. She paid using Trent's credit card like he had asked her to do. It felt strange using someone else's money. A guilty feeling bubbled in her stomach when she arrived at the nearest boutique, for the clothes looked awfully expensive. It was called Rock Candy, and it looked as though Axl Rose managed it due to the array of leather, denim, and flannel dressings on the mannequins. The bell above the door rang, signaling her entrance.

Clutching her ratty wallet against her chest, she quietly ambled through the shop, a few items catching her eye during her venture. Juno discovered a casual dress in a shade of burnt orange in her size. She bit her lip when she spotted the price tag. A sound of a woman clearing her throat made her wince. Juno turned to find a woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in all black, a pair of red stilettos being her only splash of color. Her hair was styled in a pixie cut and dyed a cranberry red. Her bright cherry lips pursed at the sight of this scrawny, plain Jane browsing through her store.

"That dress would look really good on you," the woman spoke, her voice as raspy as an old woman's who smoked three packs a day throughout adulthood. Juno lowered her gaze, for she hated eye contact with new people. She did not say anything as she rubbed her thumb along the fabric. The price was her weakness; she did not feel the need to max out Trent's credit card over a stupid dress.

The woman stood there for a moment, arms folded across her chest. "You can try it on, you know if you aren't sure if you want it."

Juno debated before looking up at the employee and nodding. "I'd like to."

***

Trent

"Chicken?" Tori asked, reading off a list of ingredients.

"Check," Trent replied as he placed a plate full of raw chicken in front of his comrade. Tori read the rest of the ingredients, and Trent gathered them before he began to peel potatoes. Tonight Trent would make an impression on Juno. This was the night he would make his feelings clear. He was tired of hiding. Tired of being embarrassed. Trent couldn't contain these feelings anymore. So, with the aid of his close friend Tori, Trent decided that he would prepare a full meal for he and Juno to share. Just the two of them.

Ever since their kiss in the bedroom two days prior, Trent couldn't get her off his mind. Images of her pink lips, her emerald eyes, her caramel freckles across her ski-slope nose dancing across his eyelids whenever he sat back to dream. A warm sensation stirred in his gut whenever a single thought of her trailed through his wandering mind. He wanted to touch her, he wanted to hold her close to him; to feel her warm skin against his own. He ached when the faint touch of her plump lips remained on his. Trent needed her to understand. 

He had to have her.

"Juno's gonna love this," Tori smiled as she proceeded to carve the fatty pieces off of a slice of poultry. Trent dropped one peeled and diced potato into a pot of boiling water. Crimson burned his ears.

"I hope your right," he said hopefully. Tori stood behind him, gingerly placing her child-like hands on his gaunt shoulders and giving them a light, friendly squeeze.

"I know she will, it's coming from you!" The redhead chortled. She patted Trent on the back before waltzing back over to her raw meat and continued to season and prep the food. A sigh escaping his lips, Trent resumed peeling the potatoes.