“Friend of yours?”

"Friend? Of mine?" Juka blinked in confusion. "I think it likes you a lot more than it likes me." More blinking and close observations of the animated pen. He hadn't ever seen an animated pen before and probably wouldn't get the opportunity again. Thus, he must certainly take full advantage of the current opportunity and make the most of it.

"Here, pen pen pen," he called to it in a sing song voice. The man with the ice cream gave him a strange and uncomfortable look. Well, that man probebly hadn't seen a perched animated pen either so, given that, Juka couldn't really blame the man. Probably hadn't seen a boy in a bubble either, but that wasn't the point.

"Give me a maple walnut 2 scoop cone, my dear," Juka asked the man, who was presently staring dumfounded at the two humans, the perched pen an the octoclip. And really, Juka couldn't blame the man for staring at himself either. After all, he probably was the most gorgeous person the man had ever met. Who wouldn't stare?

Aww, now that was just too cute. The dress-wrapped something-something trying—and failing—to call his errant pen back to him, as it so traitorously spurned him for another’s shoulder. Who wouldn’t cry, just a little?

Maxine smirked, and crunched into her delicious chocolate dipping. Go bug him, wouldn’t you? She willed the pen. It clung to her shoulder a moment longer: then, with a spin of its cap, it alit for new horizons: Juka’s hair. There. All better, right?

“So what do you do for a living, Juka?” Maxine asked. Because she had to ask.

Suddenly the hopping pen was back and Juka grinned happily. Unfortunately, though, it kept getting tangled in his hair. He tried to coax it out by petting it but unfortunately discovered that it was neither interested in being coaxed out of his hair nor did it seem particularly receptive to pets. It was official. Kitties were much better than hopping pens. Yes, indeed they were.

“So what do you do for a living, Juka?”

Returning from his pen inspired distractions, Juka accepted his cone and payed the man, who seemed more than happy to get rid of him. He gave up on trying to disintanlge the pen from his hair. "Oh, I'm a performer," Juka announced proudly. "I'm between bands at the moment, trying to find new band members as a matter of fact, but perhaps you've heard of Ukime? They were my band back in Japan."

>> "Oh, I'm a performer. I'm between bands at the moment, trying to find new band members as a matter of fact—”

A performer. Trust the news intern: New York had a surplus of those. Talented ones, and all the struggling muck below them, trying to get a little light shone on their own names. Maxine prepared herself for a pleasant smile and a ‘I’m sorry, I don’t really follow the music scene.’

>> “—but perhaps you've heard of Ukime? They were my band back in Japan."

Blink. Cone crunch. Swallow. “Yes, actually. I have. Didn’t you play with Angela Aki at the Osaka concert? Or was it Tokyo? She’s the one that does Tegami, isn’t she?” Crunch. Maxine licked delicately at the ice cream now peeking out of its dark brown shell. “One of my friends is really into J-Pop.” And insisted upon converting others to her musical tastes. Oh, the joys of pre-class headphone-forcings in Photo Journalism, every Tuesday at three. “Do you think I could get your autograph?”

Lick, lick. Crunch. “What brought you to America?”

Juka was recognized. Much more importantly, Juka was recognized for his band and his music. He grinned broadly with joy and supreme self-satisfaction. Even here, thousands of miles away from where he had made his fame (ok, so maybe fame was overstating the fact a little but that wasn't the point), he was recognized. Oh, how truly wonderful.

"You were right the first time," Juka agreed hapily. It was with Angela Aki at Osaka and she is indeed the one who does Tegami. We were only the opening band, of course, but it was a great night nevertheless." Juka sighed in rememberence, suddenly struck by just how accutely he missed performing. If he hadn't decided all ready, he most certainly knew now that he simply must find some worthy band mates and restart his band.

"What brought you to America?"

Another dramatic sigh followed the question and a thoughtful lick of his ice cream. "My parents, I'm afraid, didn't exactly approve of my performing antics. They thought I was a disgrace to the family image so they sent me away. Promised to pay for my expenses so long as I never came back." And no matter how good some thought that might sound, for Juka it was a painful sore spot. Why couldn't they just accept him for who he was and maybe, just maybe, even be a little bit proud of him?

Judging by that grin, she’d just given the cat his cream. Maxine grinned back, over her cone. There was something innocent about that level of self-satisfaction, like a kid with his crayon rendition of the Mona Lisa. It was hard no to like.

>> "My parents, I'm afraid, didn't exactly approve of my performing antics. They thought I was a disgrace to the family image so they sent me away. Promised to pay for my expenses so long as I never came back."

“Ick,” she replied. Eloquently. “Don’t worry. They’re parents. They’ll come around. Haven’t you seen those Lifetime movies? Besides—your fans like you, and I like you. Even ball point pens like you.” As evidenced by the continued hair tangling. Its struggling seemed a little desperate at this point, actually, but there was no need to ruin the moment. “Also, we have ice cream. What more do you need?” She gave a sage lick of her own cone, then nibbled the chocolate coating down a little further. Ice cream: what more did you need?

Rex had sulked his way out of the bushes. Now he was sulk (CLUNK) sulking his way over to lurk behind Juka’s legs, napkin dispenser and all. Cleary, Maxine’s scolding had neither been forgotten nor forgiven just yet. The octoclip was under the mistaken impression that she cared.

Lick.

“Ick. Don’t worry. They’re parents. They’ll come around. Haven’t you seen those Lifetime movies? Besides—your fans like you, and I like you. Even ball point pens like you. Also, we have ice cream. What more do you need?”

After a careful thought, Juka nodded his agreement. When put that way, what did he really have to complain about? He had his hordes of fans (even if hordes was technically overstating the fact a little), people who liked him (and pens as well apparently) and he had ice cream. When put that way, life seemed pretty good all things considered. And to top it all off, he still had his bubble and best of all his bubble obeyed his commands.

"Wait, you like me?" Juka asked. He was tocuhed. Truly. Although Maxine's pen was beginning to find itself hopelessly tangled in his hair. Who knew that he would one day come across the problems of animated pens attacking his hair? Life proved itself to be most interesting at times like these.

Juka took another very contented lick of his ice cream. "So, does he follow you everywhere?" Juka asked, with a pointed glance towards the lurcking octoclip. Even his kitties weren't that persistant.

>> "Wait, you like me?"

“Of course!” Maxine stated. No hesitation: just a firm nod. “You floated into my life and bought me ice cream. What’s not to like? Oh—do you have a phone? We should exchange numbers.” She rummaged in her purse for her own, coming back out with a white iPhone. A splurge, but a splurge that indulged her compulsive internet news checking, and helped her keep on top of her ‘fan’ mail.

>> "So, does he follow you everywhere?"

“Yes.” One. Word. Reply. “He does.” With two supplementary hard stares at the octoclip lurking in Juka’s shadow.

Everywhere. Yes. To school? Yes. To her internship? Yes. To the shower? Yes. Yes, yes, and yes. Everywhere.

“How about you?” Maxine asked, ignoring Rex again in favor of her ice cream. “How does that bubble of yours work?”

Juka was loved, oh happy day. Not that there wasn't a great deal about him to love, of course, but it was a most saddening fact that so many people just didn't seem to realize it. Perhaps it was his unusual attire or perhaps it was simply because they were jealous of his amazingness, but whatever the reason it was sadly true. But Maxine had an amazingness all her own so she had nothing to be jealous about and thus he was loved. He beamed his happiness and took a bit of his cone, the ice cream on top becoming depleted.

"We most certainly can exchange numbers, oh dearist Maxine," Juka agreed, pulling out a blackberry of his own. His phone was covered in a pink and purple case, for protection against unforseen falls (not that it would be much protection if it fell while he was floating of course) and for generall prettiness.

"My bubble? How does it work?" Juka considered, it wasn't something anyone had ever asked him before. "I have no idea!" He laughed in amusement. "I think about it and it appears. I think about what direction I want it to float and it floats. Its always nice and warm and dry inside." A frown. "Unfortunately its been acting a little funy lately." A moment of inspiration. "I can bring you for a fly if you like" His Jewely had enjoyed floating in his bubble, so perhaps this lovely lady Maxine would as well.

>> "We most certainly can exchange numbers, oh dearist Maxine."

Soon, ‘Juka Miami’ had his very own entry in her contacts list. As ‘Maxine Rawls’—or perhaps, simply ‘Maxine’—soon had in his. A budding reporting intern never knew when having a contact in the Japanese (and New York?) music industry could come in handy. Or when she’d next be sitting in Central Park, craving free ice cream. Or a fashion consultant, for that matter: the more she looked at him, the more she kind of wanted that dress.

>> "My bubble? How does it work? I have no idea! I think about it and it appears. I think about what direction I want it to float and it floats. It’s always nice and warm and dry inside. Unfortunately it’s been acting a little funny lately. I can bring you for a fly if you like."

Following on the heels of that ‘acting funny’ statement, the offer wasn’t quite so shiny as it could have been. But still.

It was a flying bubble. Owned by a man in a dress. Lord, she hoped someone who recognized her caught this on film, and put it on YouTube.

Maxine grinned, with a little heel bounce for good measure. “Yes, please!”

In no time at all, Juka had Maxine added to his number list. He saw the look she had, knew that she probably wanted his name for more than just casual friendship. Reporters were like that and he was a celebrity, after all (even if it was only a minor one). Besides, that was just fine with him. A reporter contact would be just as useful to him as a muscision contact would be to her. Once he had his new band formed he knew exactly who to contact now when it came to promoting his shows.

“Yes, please!”

"You'll love it I'm sure!" Juka assured Maxine with enthusiasm. He enjoyed showing off his power almost as much as he enjoyed performing in front of hordes of adoring fans. Normally he would have insisted that the two of them go some place a little less visible to prying curious eyes, but considering the fact that he had all ready bubbled in public this day and they still had an octoclip as well as an animated pen following them around, it didn't really seem to be necessary.

"If I might have your hand, dearest one?" Juka asked, offering a hand for Maxine to take. One of the limitations of his bubbles were that only the main one was large enough to bubble something human sized and then only if they were in contact with his skin.

>> "You'll love it I'm sure! If I might have your hand, dearest one?"

“One moment, dearest Juka,” she replied with a wink. And a step behind him, and a scoop. Rex vehemently protested being picked up: his tentacles flailed wildly, lashing against the empty air and her arm. (Her non-ice-cream-holding arm. Maxine kept that arm fully extended away from the octoclip’s insulted wrath.) Finally, he crawled up her shoulder and neck to sit, brooding, in her hair. The pen in Juka’s hair wiggled, as if in sympathy. The napkin dispenser lay forgotten on the cold ground.

“All aboard,” Maxine smiled, offering her hand to the fabulous Juka Miami.

Juka waited with angelic patience as Maxine gathered her Rex, unhappy as her Rex appeared to be. He then took hold of her hand and stepped closer to her, in order to ensure that they would both fit within the range of his bubble. It just wouldn't do for her to fall out the other side, now would it? "Hold on tight," Juka cautioned with a mischevious grin. Actually there wasn't much need of holding on tight so long as she didn't try to remove her hand from his or move too far away from him. It was actually quite safe, all things considered.

With no more warning than that, Juka commanded his bubble to appear and so it did, causing both himself and Maxine to rise from the ground a foot. A moment later he commanded his bubble to go higher and it rose, with surprising swiftness, until they were floating 100 ft above the crowd below. He paid no attention to the looks of awe and horror from those mortals far below him, what were they to him, after all? All that mattered was the freedom of the skies that his bubble offered and sharing that freedom with a friend. Oh, the poor earth bound mortals below them who had no conception of what they were missing.

Revelling in the attention he was being paid and the rare opportunity Juka had to show off his power, he performed acrobatics in the air, spinning and summersaulting this way and that. Gravity had no bearing on him nor on Maxine, at least for the time being. This was where he was truly in his element and surely all who witnessed his display would realize it. During his time trapped in his bubble he had almost forgotten the joy that his bubble granted but here, showing his power to another, he remembered.

>> "Hold on tight."

Maxine returned the grin, giving his hand a playful squeeze. Oh sure, she’d hold on tight. She—

Didn’t quite remember when she’d flung her arms around his shoulders, or why her head was pressed against his chest. She peeled herself back (just an inch or two or—woah).

Woah.

“Ha!” Maxine laughed, a sound of breathless exhilaration with a healthy dose of fear. In Chicago, she’d heard that there was some building you could climb—on one of the higher stories, they had a balcony made entirely of glass. Nothing but a translucent barrier between you and the city, very far below. She’d never been there before. She imagined it was a lot like this.

Except the glass wasn’t pink. And it was held in place by architecture and physics, not the will of someone’s mind.

“Oh wow.” She said, looking back up at him. “This is a little—”

‘Freaky’ turned into a squeal as the somersaulting began.

She wasn’t quite sure when the screaming turned into laughing, or she opened her eyes again.

This.

She needed to get her some of this.

How many paperclips would it take to make a magic carpet?

It was such a wonderful thing to share the joy of his bubble with someone else and Maxine was clearly enjoying his bubble emmensely. It was like a rollar coaster except so much better, able to spin and flip in ways that no rollor coaster ever could and with a clear bottom. In fact, all of the barriers were clear and barely visible which only added to the exhileration of the ride. Maxine's reaction brought Juka back to a time when he was just discovering his power and he laughed along with her, sharing in her experience as best he could.

Far below the two of them people stared and pointed and, surprisingly perhaps, most of the stares and comments were those of awe and admiration. Juka, because he was a natural performer, couldn't help but make a spectacal out of what he was doing, turning their bobs and weaves into an artful dance, no less exhilerating for the beauty that they achieved. Oh, how he wished he could share this with the world more often, how he wished more people could understand.

Finally, after how long Juka wasn't entirely sure, Juka landed his bubble, offering a hand to Maxine in case she needed to steady herself after the ride. "Are you ok my dear? Was it everything you expected?" Judgeing by her reaction he thought he knew the answer, but it couldn't hurt to ask, right? Besides, his ego always did like a little massaging now and again.