Norman was particularly uncomfortable with this part of town. This begs the question of why he was there in the first place.

You wouldn't think that a person could get lost on the way to a parking lot that they go to every day, but this wasn't your usual person. This was Norman, a guy who could get himself lost in a clothes closet. The poor guy had next to no sense of direction, because 1)he had the terrible habit of second-guessing himself, and 2)sometimes he paid absolutely no attention to his surroundings.

He gave one last, hopeless look around him before stopping and leaning against a convenient fence. It was dark, and he hadn't the slightest clue where he was. Lovely. With one pale spidery hand, he reached up and nudged his glasses into place. His china-blue eyes were darting nervously behind the thick lenses. One didn't need to see the twitchy manner in which he moved to tell that he was uneasy. His posture gave the impression that he had curled in on himself.

"Should've taken that left,..." he muttered. The hand that adjusted his glasses moved up to run back through his hair. It still startled him to find it so short. What he could have been thinking when he went to get his last haircut, he didn't know. It actually looked pretty good - short, still dead straight but spikily ruffled about, and now a red-tinted black. It was quite the difference from the tame, neat, dirty-blond cut he'd had before.
He didn't think that red-black suited him very well, though.

Look at you, thinking about your hair when you're in an unfamiliar part of town with no way of finding your way out, he scolded himself, Damn. I've got to get my priorities straight...

when you're in an unfamiliar part of town...with a very spooky looking kid walking towards you. Well....most people found Jesse spooky. He was just too tall to be that thin, and it was probably the height that made him look so thin. And the fact that he doesn't eat, but the height stretches him thinner. His face is pretty, in some morbid, gothic way.

His own hair is chin length and black, causing his skin and blue eyes to look paler. White streaks shoot through it, natural white hair, like premature aging. He doesn't look a day over nineteen. He's dressed in a pair of pants that look a little too baggy on him and only stay on his hips due to a belt throught the loops. A dark blue, ratty, long-sleeved button up shirt is worn under a black tee-shirt. It's a little warm to wear long sleeves but he has his reasons.

He watches the man with light blue eyes, his thin lips pressed togather, his hands in his pockest, one caressing his knife. He walks slowly, almost mincingly, but in all honesty, Jesse wouldn't hurt anything, not even a fly. Well...he'd hurt himself. But that's beside the point. That air of 'avoid me' hanging around him is there purly because he's a moody teenager.

He moves nearer to Norman and would seem to have not noticed him at all except his pale eyes are focused on the man. Jesse looked like he belonged in this area. Norman didn't.

Norm's head jerked up when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He turned to look for the source of the sound, and spotted Jesse. He stared at him for a few seconds, then quickly looked away, a bit surprised to find that Jesse had been looking at him, and even more surprised because he'd stared right back.

He reached up and unnecessarily adjusted his glasses again, fumbling and almost knocking them off his face. If I ignore him, he'll just keep going. What was he staring at me for, anyway? I wonder if he's going to attack me,... no, I'm being paranoid, that won't happen right out here on the street. If I don't look at him again, he'll go past and there won't be any problems. Norman lowered his head and pretended to study the ground. It didn't even occur to him to ask the stranger for directions.
(Even if it had occurred to him, he probably wouldn't ask, anyway.)

The footsteps continued for a moment, then stopped right near Norman. Norman was wrong of course, people do attack people. Right out here in the open street, all the time. But Jesse was not going to attack this man who was so obviously trying to be ignored that he just drew attintion to himself.

One of Jesse's hands came out of his pockets, minus the knife, and he tapped bony pale fingers on the other's shoulder. He cocked his head to the side slightly, leaned to the side to look at the ground where the other was looking. "Looks interesting." He commented. His voice was that barriton that most teenagers his age had. The tone was what some might interpet as bordom, others might call it a monotone. Whatever it is, he sounds unhappy either way.

"Ya lost?"

Don't stop, just keep going... Norman pleaded silently. When he was tapped on the shoulder, he flinched. Then he felt like an idiot for flinching - It wasn't like he hit me or anything. Relax.. Slowly, he raised his head, taking the time to force a smile onto his face. It came up looking very faint, and very fake.

"L-lost?" he said, then gave a weak laugh. "It's that obvious, is it...?"

"Yes." Jesse replied. "Ya don't look like ya belong here. And your pretending to be interested in," Jesse bent slightly to look at the sidewalk, the straightened and looked at the other. "the pavement." He didn't smile in return. Jesse just doesn't smile. Sometime I wonder if he's incapable of it. But he's still pretty in that Gothic way. If he weren't so depressed, he probably wouldn't be as pretty, and a smile would probably ruin the effect. He doesn't care either way.

"And your nervous." It's his way of saying 'just so you know, that's that noticable too'

"Yyyyeah,... well, I couldn't think of where else to look. Pavement's not all that interesting, but it beats staring at people," he offered guiltily, as if trying to excuse himself for being so stupid. "...I really can't help being nervous. Lost, 'member?"

So it really was that obvious. Well, ... at least now I know what not to do, he thought. When Jesse didn't smile back, he let his own smile vanish, feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to pretend to feel at ease. It was such a strain,... and he had to pretend that sort of thing surprisingly often.

Jesse raised a black eyebrow. Staring? He'd been staring at 'people' a moment ago. People being Norman. But he didn't think the other was trying to insult him. Just nervous. He let his eyebrow drop once again and raised his hand slightly.

"Jesse." Head tip, looking upward at the street sign. "Where are ya lookin for?" Maybe he can help. Jesse the good semaritin.

He reached up a hand to adjust his glasses, faltered, tried again, then settled for leaving them as they were. He winced at the question, and looked down at the ground. "Er. Well, I'm ..." For goodness' sakes, don't laugh at me if I turn out to be miles away from it... "...looking for Hollis street,... been looking for it for a while, actually."

The particular street he was looking for was lined with office buildings and the like. Norm hadn't seen anything remotely resembling an office building for at least half an hour.

Jesse didn't laugh. Or anything at all. He just stood there, slid his hand back into his pocket. He seemed to be almost robotic. "I bet." He replied. "You'll be looking for it for another hour without directions." He turned a circle slowly, getting his own bearings, then stopped and tilted his head once to indicate a direction. "One your looking for is about five miles that way."

Jesse squinted at him. "You're walking?" He shook his head. This was not a good neighborhood to be walking in.

"Five m-... how'd I even get this far..." Norm shook his head, giving an irritable sigh. That would explain why everything was so unfamiliar. He'd really done it this time. .. He blinked at Jesse, frowning. "Yeah, I'm walking. I got lost on the way to the parking lot,... which is where my car is. You see the problem."

He scuffed the sole of his shoe on the ground, looking down at it, then looking in the direction that Jesse had indicated. "I'd better get going,... thanks for the directions."