It felt like Marisol was at a crossroads.

In truth, she was in a subway station lost in thought. But the metaphorical crossroad was looming and it felt like she was being faced with one of those big life changing choices that could have huge consequences. It was a lot of pressure for a girl who was still seventeen (and a half, she would now point out.)

She could blame a lot on her roommate. Reagan thought they were focusing too hard on their projects. Reagan was one of the primaries in the big ballet production of the Spring and Marisol had snagged the role of Kathy in the two-person production of The Last Five Years. Between their productions and classes, the two girls had packed schedules.

So Reagan had a thought. They all followed the local auditions and Reagan pointed out a show that would be premiering off-Broadway focused around ballet, almost like an adaptation of one of those popular dance movies; classical dancer meets street dancer, romance ensues, etc. Reagan thought it’d be a fun experience for them to audition for the musical together. It would give them experience and be a nice little shakeup. Nothing to stress over since they were small fish to get tossed away by a casting agent.

Except Marisol had received a callback. And now she was returning from a meeting at the director’s office. He was interested in casting her as the lead. That was the last thing Marisol actually expected. Rehearsals were slated to start in the Summer and the show would be going live in the Fall.

That meant Marisol had a big choice: she could continue her life as a performing arts student, or she could take a break from school to perform in a show that could be her big break. She could continue down her stable path, graduate, and really hit the auditions when she had the rest of her experience under her belt, or she could take a big shot, see if she could arrange to return to classes after the show if they would have her, and see if she had what it took to make it on, quite literally, the big stage.

She heard the muffled announcement letting her know that the subway doors were opening and she absentmindedly walked onboard. She was so in her own head, she accidentally bumped into someone who was already on the bus!

”Oh, sorry! That was rude of me!” she said, still clearly in a fog, but not too rude or oblivious to apologize.

Skye wasn't necessarily at a crossroads.

She was just looking for a side-street to get off of the road her life was currently on. She hated her job at The Missing Link, with their atrocious uniforms that showed off more of her body than she liked to when meeting someone. Even if they were a mutant friendly, mutant-employed establishment, it wasn't enjoyable, and it didn't pay enough to get her off of her uncle's couch. Sure she loved her Uncle Blaine and Aunt Lee, but living on a pull-out couch in a one-bedroom, one bathroom apartment wasn't exactly the eighteen year old girl's idea of living life to the fullest. She'd thought about going to college, but that would cost money too. But she could still afford to look into it. 

She was spending the entire day looking for places to ask about jobs, and to try and better herself. Which was why she was on the subway, wearing black slacks, a navy blue blouse, and a pair of black heels. Her black purse was slung over her shoulder, and one hand was holding on to the handle while her other arm was resting across her stomach.  Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show a little cleavage, but buttoned enough to be professional. Her bob-cut hair was black; she was tired, she was annoyed, and her day had only just begun. This mix of emotions made her hair jet black, which was the hardest of her emotional spectrum to read because black could mean anything. 

She was quite uninterested, sort of plotting her next move. She'd stay on after the upcoming stop, then get off there. She'd learned to make full note of where she was, where she was going, and what she planned to do because quite frankly she was tired of getting lost. The subway slowed to a stop, and the doors opened. But as people started getting on, the black light flickering off of Skye's hands suddenly went out, like a flashlight whose batteries just died. Those around her would notice that her jet-black hair suddenly turned to its natural brunette. 

Right as someone bumped right into her, but instinctively, her grip tightened on the hand-hold, and she managed to stagger back, wincing just a little. It hurt, but it wasn't serious, thankfully. When she regained her focus, she noticed that her lights were still out. Thankfully; having her powers stagger a subway car full of people wasn't exactly on her to-do list. She'd have to see how she felt when she did this again in a few days, if nothing came of today's search.

"Oh, it happens," she said with a shrug. She'd been having quite a rough day too, so she understood, but Skye wasn't exactly one to fake niceness. "Luckily someone around here seems to be nullifying my mutation," she said flatly before explaining. "It's not particularly harmful, but I hadn't planned on accidentally stunning an entire subway," she gave a dry laugh to show that she was making a joke in her usual cynical fashion.

"I'm Skye," she said, her Maine accent bleeding through her words; she'd only been in New York for two months, so her accent was still quite prominent, and stuck out like a sore thumb in the city. But she didn't really care. 

To her, everything that made her different was special; hey, she was the sort of girl who liked to go against the grain, after all .

Marisol looked up and found herself at eye-level with the woman she ended up bumping into. She was nicely dressed with slacks, a blouse, and heels. It was hard not to think she was coming from or going to somewhere important. To be fair, Marisol was no slouch either. She had attended a meeting, not a rehearsal, so she went in a white buttoned top, a black pencil skirt, and black heels.

The other young woman had brown eyes and plain brown hair in a cute, trendy cut. Marisol's own hair still had blonde ends at the end as she was growing out the dye job she did during "Heathers." Marisol felt embarrassed for getting so lost in her own head, but the other woman was taking things in stride. Her tone was flippant and unaffected, which made it all the more surprising when she pointed out she was a mutant. Marisol looked around and some people looked at Skye suspiciously, though none in surprise. Was her mutation active before Mari showed up?

Whoever the woman was, she laughed, or tried to, and it earned a similar laugh from Marisol. It was a lot like the laughs she tried to force when she realized her tone was coming off a little "ice queen" for some. Surprisingly, Marisol was given a name-- Skye. All Marisol could think was that it suited her. "Marisol," she replied briefly, offering a small, two-fingered wave of greeting. "And yeah, sorry. I'm kinda the one who turned off the powers," she admitted, quieting her voice a little as people looked on.

Marisol grabbed one of the overhead rails to steady herself and claim her place. "So what do you do, Skye, all dressed up like that?"

Skye found herself eye to eye with the woman who'd nearly knocked her on her well-dressed ass, and she had to say the other girl was dressed equally as nice. She wondered if the other girl had a job that required this, or if she was hitting the grind too. Skye set her snarky attitude aside; it was obviously an accident, and this girl looked seemed nice enough.

"Trust me, you're good," Skye said with a smile and a shrug. "You missed the color changing hair and the light show, but stress me out or startle me too much and...it's not pretty," her Maine accent bled through pretty strong as she spoke. "There's usually this bright flash of white light, and a loud bang. Really disorienting, really not good on a subway," she said quietly, grinning mischievously. It kind of reminded her of when her power first surfaced and she flash-banged an entire cafeteria after being bullied. While it sucked back then....honestly she realized they kind of deserved it.

"It's nice to meet you. And honestly, having a break from my mutation isn't necessarily a bad thing," she said in a much friendlier tone. She gave a snort at the question.

"I spend my days in a revealing, ugly yellow-green top and a pair of black shorts that cover less skin than most undergarments, then wait tables. Today...I'm trying to get out of that. The Missing Link isn't a bad place to eat, but I hate the uniforms. Feel free to drop by during the week though." She gave a small wink as she looked back.

"Right now I'm going around filling out applications and trying to get an interview someplace that doesn't smell like beer and barbecue sauce." She laughed again. "What about you?"

Marisol was unsure what to expect from the young woman she bumped into. Her tone implied an attitude, but it was important for Marisol not to judge, considering it was like the pot calling the kettle black. Marisol probably came across as rude to the blonde as well, so maybe they both needed to take a moment to chill out.

They were evidently both on the same page, because Skye sounded much nicer with her next attempt at conversation. Getting a smile from her did a lot to put Marisol at ease. She also noticed that Skye’s voice was not quite New York. Marisol was not one to talk, with a small amount of west coast inflection shining through, but Skye was from somewhere else.

The mutant continued to be unabashedly open about her powers, which was refreshing, even if some people gave her sideways glances. ”Sounds like quite the show,” Marisol replied, smirking. ”At least with me here, you won’t accidentally flash the train. Not that I’m going to stress or startle you,” she added, before reviewing her comments mentally and hastily tacking on, ”Flashbanging. Not the thing I said.” Her tan cheeks pinkened slightly.

Skye explained her work and Marisol pouted, wondering how she would feel if her diner had her working in some kind of skimpy outfit. Skye was a pretty girl, so Marisol was sure plenty of people would give her attention in an outfit like that, for better or worse. She tried to picture it in her head. It did make her want to blush, but was the thought something attractive? Marisol was still trying to figure herself out. She found Celeste attractive, so clearly girls were on the table, but she was still not quite clicking with other women. She still had a lot to piece together.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Skye asked about her deal. ”What do I do for work? Or what am I doing today? I work at a little diner in Hudson Heights, which you’re also welcome to drop by on the weekends.” It seemed like a fair trade.

”As for today…” What was the best answer to that? How honest and open did she want to get with a stranger? She sighed. ”Do you ever feel like you have no clue what your next step is?”

Skye's initial attitude was fading fast; it was an accident, and the girl seemed cool enough. Hell, they may have even been cut from similar cloth. And the fact that she just so happened to nullify mutant powers? That was pretty freaking awesome.

She giggled, blushing lightly at Marisol's next comment, which judging from the correction, the girl realized what she'd said. "That would be interesting, but I tend to save that for an audience of one," she said with a sly wink, not actively hitting on her, but the line was in the water, and if there wasn't a bite, she'd reel it back in and normal conversation would continue.

"I meant for work, but it seems we have similar...professions, if one would call it that," she said dryly. "Though now I'll probably have to drop by; I forget what it's like to be on the other end of a menu." She smiled again; this actually wasn't so bad. Civil conversation, no lights going off. Granted, that also meant the other girl wouldn't get to see how good she looked with different colored hair, but oh well.

"Honestly? I've felt like that ever since my plane touched ground a couple of months ago. I have a few ideas of what I wanna do one day, but those take money. That's why I'm out today, seeing if I can maybe get a better source of income."

Marisol wondered sometimes just how many mutants there were in New York. She knew a few mutants during her time in California, though Jenna was the only one she would have claimed to spend significant time with. Marisol was not exactly a naturally social creature after all. Still, her life seemed to be filled with mutants during her first half year in New York. It really was the world's biggest melting pot, both culturally and genetically.

Her newest mutated acquaintance, Skye, was not going to let Marisol's verbal slip slide. The way she responded seemed to imply... yep, there was the wink. She was being flirted with, wasn't she? It was Alice all over again, minus the blue hair and British accent. Marisol shifted uncomfortably; she had never gotten a handle of how people handled being flirted with by someone they did not know. "Y-yeah, probably the kind of thing you'd want to do in private," she said plainly, trying to make sure she was not accidentally flirted, which she had recently found out was a possibility.

It was a gamble asking an emotionally honest question of an almost stranger, but Skye did not disappoint. It sounded like she understood what was going on in Marisol's head. She felt like she was stalling out on the way to her future. Marisol had her own issues to think over, but Skye had made her curious. She shifted slightly closer to her so they could more easily and quietly talk on the train of passengers. "What would you do? Like, if money wasn't an issue, what are some of your ideas?"

The adapted's uncomfortable reaction did not go unnoticed. Skye simply let that part of the conversation drop, not responding, but at the same time not adding to any unintended awkwardness. After all, flirting was only fun when both people were enjoying it. Besides, Skye was starting to like this girl; if nothing else, she seemed like she'd be good company. They were already similar from what they'd talked about so far. It was nice.

Most people in the city weren't nearly this social, anyway. The girl slid closer, but Skye realized it was just to talk, and honestly, she was okay with this. "If money weren't an issue? I'd like to go to college, maybe take up journalism, or just get a basic English major and write for a living. Something like that," she said after a moment of thinking. It was a simple idea, but it worked for someone from a port town in Maine. Hell, she just knew she didn't want to be a waitress any longer than she had to.

Her brown eyes looked over at her new acquaintance. "So, what about you" she asked after a few moments, tucking her brown hair behind an ear.

Marisol was thrown off by the flirtatious comment from Skye, but she did not seem to be following it up, which the actress appreciated. She seemed like a nice woman, and it was possible Marisol was misinterpreting any signs she was picking up, since she was still hopelessly oblivious to attempted seductions. For all she knew, Skye was not even into girls, so it looked like they were moving past the comment, and that was quite alright.

They could move on to hopes and dreams, and Skye had dreams of being a journalist or a writer. Mari grinned, picturing Skye at a laptop or—heck, maybe she could even be a typewriter type of gal—writing late into the night to meet a deadline. Her eyes twinkled at the thought. ”I can see it. It’d suit you.”

And then the question was turned on her. ”Well, there’s the thing. I’m going to a high school for performing arts. And I could finish that up next year. But… I was kinda just offered this part in an Off-Broadway show. So I could take a chance on that and skip school next year or I could keep going on the path I’m on and play it safe. And I really have no idea what the right choice is.”

Bing!

Marisol looked up at the display and realized where they had gotten far quicker than she expected. ”And this is my stop,” she said awkwardly, stepping toward the doors getting ready to open. It was a shame, really. Skye was proving to be easy to talk to, and maybe she needed that.

”Hey Skye? she turned to look back at her new almost friend. ”You hungry?”

She giggled a little. "Yeah, I can too," she said, weighing the thought of her trying to get something typed out in time. In fact, the more she talked about it, the more she liked the idea. Maybe this was something she really needed to do. But to do this, she'd need money, and to get money, she had to keep working crappy jobs for the time being. After all, there wasn't anything really glamorous for an eighteen year old to do.

And then Marisol shared where she was. So she was still in high school. "Hey, you've got a head start on me, anyway. I recently graduated; well, sorta. I finished home-schooling, so technically, I guess? It's really cool that you got an opportunity so soon though. I know we just met, but if that's really what you want to do, I think you should pursue it. The thing about playing it safe is nothing really has a chance to happen if you don't take a risk. It's just...you have to decide whether or not the risk is worth it."

And then, her statement was punctuated by the Bing! of reaching a stop, and she'd be left alone aga--

"Hungry? Actually, yeah," she said with a smile as she started off the train with her new acquaintance? Friend? Well, it was possible. They did seem to click rather well.

Skye deserved a break and a bite to eat anyway.

It was odd talking about the future with someone who should have been a total stranger. Marisol was sure her mother had warned her specifically about talking to strangers on subways, but surely she did not mean teenage girls her own age, right? She had to make friends somehow, and really, it was a miracle things were going so well in the first place, given Marisol’s track record with… well, people.

Skye’s opinion sounded so sure, she made it sound like it was almost silly that Marisol was even weighing her options. The reaction caught Marisol by surprise, so she was very glad Skye was going to come along with her for a bite to eat. She held her arm in the doorway of the car so it would not close, gesturing to Skye so she would follow her. ”Come on, then; my diner isn’t too far from here.”

They made their way off the subway car and through the station until they wound up in the brisk early-spring air of New York. Marisol calibrated herself and remembered the way to her job; it was one of the six or so places in the city she could navigate to by memory.

Once they were off, Marisol could return to the topic at hand. ”So you really think the right thing is just to go for it? Isn’t that risky? Like, what if I suck? I could suck so bad they recast me before the show starts and then I don’t have a school to go back to.” How would her mother feel then? Having her daughter be a true blue high school dropout. ”It’s just scary to think about all the ways this could go wrong.”

Sure, some would think this was an odd conversation for a pair of strangers to have, especially in New York City, but Skye found it refreshing. Besides, she'd done a lot more than just talk to total strangers. And then their conversation turned to lunch together, and Skye found herself quite enjoying the company.

Sure, the other girl had seemed a little put off by the flirt attempt, but that was okay. Marisol had the potential to be something that Skye really needed, especially at this stage in her life: a friend. Someone she could actually talk about the important stuff with. Like they were doing now, honestly. She followed the girl off of the subway, feeling the weight lift off of her shoulders as she shifted from the professional, look for a job mode to the relax and chill out mode. And after the day she'd had, she really needed this.

Skye giggled a little as Marisol continued weighing the risk. "Risky?" she said, looking over with a smirk. "I landed on my uncle's doorstep at 3 in the morning; I hadn't seen him since I was five. Didn't even call beforehand. That's risky," she said, then paused for a moment, letting the joke wear off a little.

"If you really want to pursue this, go for it. Give it everything you have. Even if this doesn't work out at first, the best thing you can do is pursue your dreams. I know I'm just some girl you just met on the subway, but....I believe in you," she said, looking at Marisol with a sincere smile.

Marisol still did not like walking the sidewalks of New York; they had too many people packed too tightly. She was no longer as worried about getting lost if she was going somewhere familiar, but it was still a great way to feel a swell of anxiety. Fortunately, walking with Skye gave Marisol something to focus on and keep her mind off her surroundings.

They kept close as they walked, and Skye made an effort to make Marisol's decision seem lighter by divulging a fun fact about herself that left the dancer wide-eyed. "Really? Just out of the blue, you showed up and he took you in? He took you in right? Tell me he took you in." She got more nervous with each sentence, because she did not like the picture of Skye being tossed out onto the street with nowhere to go.

Marisol would need further explanation on the whole situation, but she could not ignore how sweet Skye was being to her. Her advice seemed genuine, and the way Skye smiled at her after saying she believed in her left a warm fuzzy feeling in Marisol. "You're too sweet for someone who's never seen me dance or act. But... I really appreciate it, Skye."

There was a moment where everything lingered as they walked before Marisol shook off the grateful, totally not blushing feeling and returned to the present. "Okay, we've talked a lot about me. You showed up to your uncle's at three in the morning. Why?" Really, Marisol should have been able to guess that the reason might not be particularly happy, but it had not yet crossed her mind.

Skye didn't know that she'd ever get used to walking down the streets of New York like this. It was so much different than walking around a town like Port Haven. It was small, and everything was within walking distance, and you know practically everyone. But at least this time she had company. Actual company.

Skye giggled. "Yeah; he took me in. I'm kind of living on his couch as we speak," she admitted, though she was sort of ashamed. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Marisol was missing out on what would usually be the accompanying light show though. Her hair and hands did some funky stuff when talking certain situations.

"I don't have to. You have an opportunity this early; I think that sort of speaks for itself," she said with a smile.

"Well, my mutation started in middle school, but it was just my hair changing colors. But ever since then, my mo--the woman who gave birth to me--treated me different. After I flash-banged the entire high school cafeteria, I was moved to home-school and private tutors, and once I finished, my parents separated. I lived with my Dad, but it was hard for him to get work. My uncle is also a mutant, and though they hadn't talked a lot--or any--since I was like five, they still love each other, it's just....awkward. So Dad got me a plane ticket. I was supposed to show up at like seven in the evening, but my flight got delayed by like thirty years.

So, three in the morning and there I am. Lucky though; I later found out they both work nights at a bar."

She gave a small shrug; her story was crazy, but it was the truth.

It was funny to think of one of the few parallels between Marisol and Skye so far: both girls came to New York City to live under the care of an uncle. It was a funny coincidence for two girls who literally bumped into each other on the subway.

That was where the paths diverged, it seemed. Marisol came to New York City for school and Jorge was her de facto guardian while she lived on campus at the performing arts school. Skye came to live on her uncle's couch because her mother, (and Marisol would use the word generously and undeservedly,) decided to treat her daughter like some kind of plague upon the house. Marisol could not imagine being shuttled off because her parents either couldn't take care of her or did not want her there. Well, that was not entirely true; she never knew her father, but her mother always did a great job of minimizing that loss by putting in the work of two parents.

For Skye, though, it sounded like she was starting fresh and relying on the kindness of an uncle she kind of new. Even still, she seemed to keep a positive attitude. Marisol stopped walking and turned, putting herself in Skye's path. She wrapped her arms around the other girls waist and squeezed her tightly in a hug. She finally loosened her grip and met Skye's eyes. "I think your mom made a huge mistake and your uncle's the lucky one for getting you back in his life. I'm just some girl from the subway, and I believe that," she promised, smiling.

She held the smile and the eye-contact for a moment before a sense of familiarity hit her. She looked up and arond and noticed the sign next to them. "Oh! I guess we've made it to the diner. Er, I hope you're hungry?" she asked, still smiling shyly.