got change? [open]

The word acquaintance rang, and it made Lucy smile. What a strange thing to call someone, especially while speaking to them. Anthony was being mighty careful. "Kinda," she said, with a thin laugh to herself, one that game out as a rich and long chortle, sounds she didn't expect to make until they were out there. She bit her lip and reaffirmed it with a small, "Yeah, I'm pretty dope at them, I guess..."
A chalkboard sat near the back of the arcade with her name on most of the categories, but she was going to go with 'just pretty dope.' She hoped he wasn't too adept to reading big, white, pinned up letters.

"Hey, now we're getting somewhere." Anthony chuckled softly, and then started to make his way down the street. The Game Lounge was easily the busiest joint in town. The collection of kids who had tossed him some change had all come from it, and as he approached it, two more groups of people milled in through the entrance. The popularity of video games really was a wonder to him. Half of the folks he'd grown up with had thought they were government propaganda, but now, they were a cultural staple everywhere he went.

He was a fish out of water the second he stepped in.

Goddamn. Flashing colours, flat-screen televisions, graphic tees, table-top games.. Anthony would have felt more comfortable in an old folk's home than here. "Well.." He tilted his head to the side to glance at Lucy. Unfortunately for him, there was so much to take in that he hadn't noticed her name scrawled across the top of every tier list. "I guess you could say I'm a bit lost. Lead me to somethin' groovy."

"Groovy?" Lucy flashed a half-smile. She looked around at each arcade machine that surrounded her; plastic replica bikes before fingerprint-smeared screens, laser-shooters whose screens still showed bloody Game Over text from the last players. Then there was the Dance Dance Revolution machines, their pads dim and blinking. When was the last time they were taken care of...?

"What's your definition of groovy?" Somewhere along the line, Lucy's grin filled out. "I play a mean DDR." In truth, she hadn't touched the games since she was thirteen.

"Whatever you're good at. I could learn a thing or two.." He dug his hand into his pocket and fished out a coin, flicking it at her with his thumb. "Sure.. DDR sounds good. Show me what you've got, hotshot."

Anthony turned and swept his eyes across all of the blinking lights, blowing a raspberry in exasperation. What the hell is DDR?

As fast as Lucy's reflexes we're in most games, she couldn't predict the coin quickly enough to snatch it out of the air. It clattered against the ground, and she crouched down to snatch it before embarrassment could set in. Bad first impression. She did her best to rectify it with a faux-confident smile, then rose to her feet again.

"This kind of stuff is way more expensive in Korea," she said quietly, trying her best to find a coin slot in the DDR machine. Perks of being in nowhere, USA, huh? She thought about saying it but didn't quite know where the boy was from. On the screens, digital, neon people break danced, arrows flying by, 'Perfect' exploding around each in a pop and fizzle of color.

There, beneath the yellowing rules sheet that was plastered onto the machine! It was a green, blinking little slot, '25 cents' written in sharpie on the scratched metal veneer. She plunked the coin inside, and the screens went to black before showing a selection of songs.

"Oh." She scanned the options. "Um, what kind of music do you listen to?"