Cherry | Kevin Jonas

IN ACTIVE PROGRESS

"Excuse me."

I didn't react. It didn't register as directed at me. Parking lots have ghosts. Echoes. Overheated delusions. Then a hand tapped my shoulder, not rough, but firm enough to cut clean through the LA hum around me.

"Hey, sorry, I just needed to check if you had the revised-"

I turned, ready to tell whatever staff member or lost tourist that I was not in charge of anything.
But it wasn't a stranger.

Kevin.

His sentence died halfway out of his mouth. His eyebrows lifted in slow, dawning realization. He glanced from my face, to the sketchbook in my lap, back to my face again.

"And you..." His lips pulled into a crooked, incredulous smile. "Are not part of event staff."