Sad But True [Open]

[Devon Wentsworth]

'Mall' was one of the few Americanisms that Devon could completely get behind. It had a certain elegance and simplicity to it, much more so than the English 'shopping centre'. It encompassed everything it needed to say, even when it did have a town or city name in front of it. 'Pilot Ridge Mall' beat 'The Leeds White Rose Shopping Centre' any day. Long floral names worked well for unique boutique stores and fancy coffee shops. When applied to an urban mound of concrete, acrylic and tacky chain shops it made the fancy name a mockery of itself.

It had been two and a half months since Devon had arrived in America, and he was still desperately struggling to adapt to being alone. Ferris was remarkable company but they kept completely different time schedules and the Brit knew he couldn't badger him all the time. There were a few other people he had come to know but none of whom he quite felt comfortable just dropping in on for a cuppa and a chat. And there was only so many times a week he could go out into town for drinks with complete strangers. Devon was desperately homesick, he missed his big brother, and he was lonely.

Over the past couple of weeks he had been thinking back to his conversation with Kam at the lake, regarding pets and the way people keep them. Devon knew he couldn't get a dog. They required far more time and attention and responsibility than he knew he would ever be able to give. He couldn't get a small cage animal because it had gone horribly, horribly wrong last time. That left him with one choice, one he had been researching intently for the past few days.

Standing in the pet store in the mall, Devon held one bag of cat food in one hand and a competing brand in the other. Looking at the nutritional information, he couldn't actually see a difference between the two. Which left him wondering exactly why there was a $4 price difference between them. Seeing someone walking down the narrow aisle who seemed to know what they were looking for, Devon approached them with a slightly confused expression. “Hey. I was wondering if you could have any clue which would be better for my future cat, maybe, please?”

[Mai Adaire]

Bright blue eyes fix on him, not quite startled but more of surprised the question had been thrown her way. Maiella had a small canister of food for her Beta in her hands and had been looking through the narrow aisle for the right brand cat food as a favor to an elderly neighbor. So many brands! Thankfully it was noted on her smartphone, otherwise this would be so confusing!

A hand tapped to her own chest: talking to her?

"Oh...oh for cat!"

Maiella perked up. Well, she knew a little about cats! Well to be exact, she never directly owned one but having come into contact many times in her travels. And that was not to mention her everlasting patience with the elderly neighbor that told her everything there was to know about cats!

"Did you say future cat? Well, sweetie, it would be best to know what sort of cat you'll be getting, right? There's a lot to take into account. If it's a young one, it has different nutritional needs needs than an older cat."

She looked at the bags he had chosen, then made a flipping motion with her hand.

"You can also look at the quality of the ingredients too, the more high quality protein as first ingredients is much more digestible. And that's if your kitty ends up liking the food. They're finicky little creatures."

A pause as Maiella quietly looked him over then clapped her hands once.

"Oh! You're familiar!"

[Devon Wentsworth]

Devon hadn't meant to surprise the woman as he seemed to have done, and he both physically and mentally backed up a pace as she seemed to take a moment to work out that he was talking to her. She didn't seem to react badly though, and as she visibly perked up an easy smile left his lips. Devon had been blessed with a lack of much in the way of social anxiety and never had any problem sparking a conversation with anyone who happened to be nearby, so once her initial start had passed he very quickly settled into the flow.

“Well the honest answer, darling-” Devon matched her tone, friendly and chipper with an edge of English charm as he rolled the 'a' in darling “-is that I have no idea what kinda cat I'm getting. I just wanted to make sure I had the basics ready for when I do get it, y'know? I'm going to the shelter this weekend, so I'm guessing an older one.”

Devon had been doing his research and discovered that kittens tended to get rehomed fairly easily in shelters and it was the older ones that usually ended up being put down because they couldn't find a home. He had no want to add to that statistic, and he honestly didn't mind what age the cat was. An older one would probably be easier to get settled anyway, and at least it should already be litter trained.

As the woman made a flipping motion with her hand Devon complied, shuffling the bags over the other way so they could both see the back of them. A furrow of a frown crossed his brow. “I hadn't thought of it not liking it... I'm going to end up making this place rich, aren't I?” He gave a soft laugh, eyes once more roaming over the nutrient information.

The clap and exclamation caused grey eyes to flick up at the woman, and he studied her face for a moment before it hit him. He gestured towards her with a hand still containing a bag of cat food. “Yes I am! You might remember me from such karaoke songs as Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones.”

[Mai Adaire]

“Ah!” A note of approval from the chipper brunette! “A good choice I think, older cats don’t get as much love as cute kittens, but they need just as much of a home as any. It’s sad really, but there are souls out there who do see the benefit of an older cat.”
She’d highlight the ingredients of both bags, just the first line of each. She'd tap the second bag out of favor of ingredients.

“See this? It’s better to go with ingredients that are not just crude protein. It’s a little more expensive, no lies there, but it’s beneficial overall for kitty’s digestive system – so yes, sweetie, they are going to LOVE you here!”

Maiella beamed at him, just so happy to have been of help even in the tiniest way! It was admirable to take on the care of a cat after all. She even would if she could, but she was still adjusting to being in the States, and without any sort of mission that brought her here. She’ll wait on a pet anymore daunting than a very grumpy fish.

And then, the woman would blink at him, not quite sure at first what he meant at first. Her face lit up as pieces of the night all came together. She almost dropped her things at the revelation, but her reflexes would not allow that to happen.

“Oh. OH! Okay, now I know you! You actually did very well for yourself on a stage. Are you a karaoke aficionado too?”

She’d put the canister of fish food to the side to keep from dropping it again, just so she can extend her hand to him.

“Maiella Adaire, good to be sober enough to actually meet you, sweetie.”

[Devon Wentsworth]

The art teacher nodded in agreement as the woman spoke about the kittens getting all the love, and he could kind of see why in a way. Baby animals always seemed to get all the attention and cooing – kittens, puppies, lambs, ducklings, foals, baby crocodiles. The only real exception seemed to be human babies; the only people that really tended to swoon over a human baby were the parents and close relatives of said baby. People take photos of their offspring into work and people look out of politeness while internally wishing they'd rather be doing anything else. Someone takes in a picture of their new Labrador puppy and everyone gets in a race to fawn over it. That is rather messed up on an evolutionary level.

“I don't really mind how old the cat is. I think if anything an older one might be better, not get as stressed when I'm out at work, y'know?” He watched intently as the lady pointed out the vital ingredients, nodding at her explanation. He was beginning to feel like one of those bobble-head dogs that unimaginative people have in their cars. “Eh, it's only a couple of qu- bucks more.” Devon was still learning the language and it was hard sometimes to not just default to correct English-English. “I can cope with the small difference. Just hope the fussy beggar will like it.” The Brit gave a laugh as he put the redundant bag back on the shelf and put the other into the basket with the two food and water bowls.

As the woman twigged on to who he was a bright grin crossed Devon's face and he laughed at her comment. “Thanks, I appreciate that. I'm a better drummer than I am a singer, but I like to think I can hold it together reasonably well. Karaoke isn't my normal thing, I used to play in a little band back home and did the backing vocals sometimes, but I enjoy a blast out of it every now and then.”

His hands now free of bags of cat food, Devon met her hand with his in a gentle, friendly shake. “Hello darling, it's a pleasure to actually meet you and not just wave at you across a room. I'm Devon Wentsworth, the art teacher.”