fandomhigh | Newspaper Staff Meeting, 4 pm, Journalism Room

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!club: newspaper

Newspaper Staff Meeting, 4 pm, Journalism Room

Rikku was bouncing to herself and humming while she waited for the rest of the paper staff to show up.

Of course she brought pastries and coffee. Not bringing pastries and coffee was like asking wild animals to gnaw on you. Newspaper folks could get seriously cranky without their donuts, okay?!

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Her eyes were tearing up, and she felt stupid for that, so she was going to blink them back and nod. "Y-yeah," she said. "That's ... incredible. So people are learning. They really are. That's ... inspiring, yeah? That you can ... I mean, a hundred years, that's not so long. It is, but ..."

But it was hope, anyway, and when you thought 'never' was the real answer, 'a hundred years' didn't seem half so bad.

"I read about people who cried," Warren said after a moment. "Because they thought they wouldn't live to see the day. They believed that it would come, sure. But... Not in their lifetime. Maybe not in their grandkids' lifetimes. And it came. Two days ago."

He crossed his arms and tilted his head for a moment, considering.

"You have a computer? Look up his acceptance speech on Youtube. I mean that. I think maybe listening to our president-elect speak will help you understand exactly what that election meant to everyone. Inspiring is one word for it, sure."

Warren might have gotten a little misty-eyed while he was watching it.

Shut up.

"I ... can understand that," she said, softly. "Crying. Because you never think things are going to get any better. We --"

She bit her lip. "It's bad, where I'm from. Not nearly as bad as those people had it. Not even close. But ... people call names and hate because of who you are, if you're someone like me. And the government was ... using it, to cover up every bad thing they were doing. It's only been different for a couple of years now, and ... it's still there. All the hate and misunderstanding and ugliness. It's getting better but sometimes I feel like ... it's never gonna change. You know?"

She totally needed to look up this acceptance speech thingy, now. Possibly with tissues handy.

"Yeah. I think I can piece together a bit of an idea as to what it's like." Warren stuck his hands in his pockets and frowned thoughtfully. "You know, if a place like America can do it, anyone can. Hate... doesn't just go away. It's not that easy. Takes time. Takes a lot of work. We had movements, we had protests, there was a nasty war that pitted brother against brother. But... looking at where we are now...?"

Warren wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"That's it. I'm getting you a book on American history. It's official."

Books were so much more eloquently verbose than Warren could ever be.

"Really?" Rikku asked. "You mean it? That's --"

She blushed. "I'd hug you, but that's only good for thanking people if they like it when they hug you. Seems kinda mean to say thanks with it, otherwise."

"Just saying 'thanks' works, too. Stop by Fina on Sunday if you get the chance. I'll have the book for you then."

He'd find one, dammit.

"If not, I'll just give it to you next meeting."

"You betcha," she nodded. "Oooh, Fina, you work there? It's a nice place. I miss the candle-guy, he rocked."

"It's a restaurant," Warren said with a shrug. "I used to work at the Chinese restaurant back in Maxville, but I figured I'd go for a change of pace and work at the cafe, instead of applying at Ching Tai. It's... interesting. I never did meet the candle-guy. The napkins assure me that the only resemblance I hold to him is that they're afraid to get near my hands, too."

"He was awesome," she laughed. "He had this outrageous accent and he flirted with everybody. But in this really polite, suave kinda way. And he loved putting on a good show."

"Sounds like the perfect sort of boss for that bunch. The dishes were always inclined to join kick-lines, huh?"

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Newspaper Staff Meeting, 4 pm, Journalism Room

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