Realistic or Modern City Living

A_Writer · Aug 1, 2019

A couple of hours had passed since the chaotic scene in the hallway had ensued, and the passing of time had calmed things down (in Holly's apartment, at least). She sat in the kitchen, legs crossed like a pretzel, on one of the chairs by the table. In front of her sat a brownie, warm from being microwaved for a few seconds. The smell of it in itself was mouth watering, but Holly wasn't inhaling it as quickly as it deserved to be. Instead, she was picking at it as she did with most foods. A few bites here, a few bites there.

Though she normally showered at night, after Makayla had finished showering, Holly decided she wanted to as well. She had an odd infatuation with showering; it was one of the activities of daily living that she enjoyed the most. It just always felt so calming and nice - sometimes her brain shut down when she was in there, and sometimes it continued to be active and quick, but in a way that wasn't frustratingly jagged. Everything just felt smoother and slower and tranquil. After getting out of the shower, though, she reverted to habit and put on pajamas, even if it wasn't time for bed. Wearing warm pajamas, thick and fuzzy sucks, and having a blanket wrapped around her to top it off made for a nice and cozy winter's day. Live would have been a tad bit better if Makayla had let her eat the brownie on the couch, but sitting in the kitchen, all bundled up with her headphones on and her iPad on the table in front of her playing "The Princess and the Frog" would suffice for now.

She had homework that she had to do and her room needed to be tidied up, but Holly was quite content where she was, and giving Makayla's mindset today, it wasn't likely that her sister was going to be interrupting the moment of peace and quiet any time soon, which was fine by Holly.

BurningBridges · Aug 2, 2019

The doctors in the ER insisted that Collin didn't need an MRI or CT scan, but he still felt like he had been in the emergency room for far too long. It had been about two hours since he had left the apartment, and he still wasn't back home. So much for being able to sleep.... Sleep was still the only thing he wanted to do. In fact, after having to spend two hours seated in between his sister and step mother, sleeping seemed like the only thing he could do to avoid killing himself. How the two of them managed to create such utting tensionw thout saying a word was beyond him, and he really wished his father was around to at least send one of them home. Unfortunately for him, his father was in Connecticut working (which wasn't really surprising, even considering that it was a Saturday), and while he insisted that he was coming home once he had heard about Collin's accident, even a half-here, half-gone Collin knew well enough to doubt the truth behind that. His father wasn't a bad guy. He loved his kids and all of that. Still, at the end of the day, his father was driven by success. Not success in terms of parenting success, or philanthropic success, or moral success - he was driven by financial and business success. Collin didn't hate his father for that, though. He recognized that people were wired differently, and if money was what got his father out of bed every day, then so be it. It would have been ironic for him to complain about his father's money-driven behavior, all while reaping the benefits of it.

After sitting down for a little while, Collin had been able to calm down and piece things together. The doctor who saw him insisted that as long as he stayed awake for a few hours (or had someone wake him up every half an hour or so, if he did fall asleep soon after getting home), that he would be fine. If he showed any signs of increased lethargy or mental decline, he needed to come back and they would do scans, but for now, it just seemed like he had a concussion. If his father had been there, he likely would have insisted on getting a scan to ensure that there was no bleeding in the brain, but Collin nor the girls cared enough to insist upon it, so it came down to just waiting for them to get the green light to leave. He had his vitals taken a couple more times, he had to scribble his signature on a slew of papers, and then he was done.

"That was a waste of time," he muttered, once they were heading out. They had insisted that he couldn't take pain medications, as most of them increased the risk of bleeding and masked symptoms that could show a larger problem, so he hadn't gotten anything out of this that benefited him, he felt. Ruby had left around the time that his stepmother had arrived, and while he liked Ruby, in his mind, he had her to blame for the inconvenience. The only good thing that did come of it, and what may have increased the time spent there, was that his stepmother had called the police and he had been interviewed in the ER. Hopefully an arrest warrant would be placed on Nick soon.

lauren. · Aug 5, 2019

"I couldn't agree with you more," Cara responded sharply when Collin commented on how this trip had been a waste of time. In reality, it hadn't been. You couldn't put a price on comfort and knowing for sure that things were going to be okay. Additionally, coming here had allowed them to document that Collin had to receive treatment and speak to the police about the encounter. It had forced Cara to sober up, however, and it had also forced her to interact with her stepmother, so that negated any sort of benefits that existed. She now had a headache, was annoyed, and was certain that she needed a facial from the wrinkles that were likely to set in from just how much she had been frowning over the past couple of hours.

"Take him with you," she said, glancing over her shoulder at her stepmother as they exited the emergency room. It wasn't a request or a suggestion so much as it was a demand. She didn't want to be responsible for Collin before this, and she certainly didn't want to be responsible for him after this. Who knew if Nick was back in the building, just waiting to act like a psychopath again. The police had confirmed that they would notify them when Nick was taken into custody, and while Cara had no reason to not trust that the police would do their job, she was also aware that they were mostly uneducated, borderline blue collar, power-hungry mongrels who were typically incapable of doing anything right. She had no reason to dislike them in the way that many people did, as they posed no threat to her existence and actually essentially acted as a barrier for her against any trouble that she could even get herself into, but she didn't think that they were going to do this competently. That was why she wouldn't have been surprised if Nick really was just sitting at home, waiting for them to come back, to start more trouble. The NYPD seemed to be made up of public servants who forgot that they were servants to the public, so being productive and actually accomplishing things to protect the public wasn't their forte.

"I do think that it would be a good idea if you spent the night with us, Collin," Alice offered, resting a hand on his back and rubbing it gently. "I'm sure your father wants to check you out for himself and it might be nice to take a break from that scene for a while."

"And while you're there, remind dad that he's the reason for why you were nearly killed. All I asked for was a condo in SoHo or Tribeca but no, he decides to put us up in the ghetto, and this is what happens," she snapped.

Part of her didn't know if she even felt safe returning to the apartment building, and she didn't think that she was being dramatic. It wasn't normal (at least in any world that Cara knew) for someone to act so violently to someone else for no reason, and while she didn't want Collin's presence to cause more drama, she was also kind of scared to return by herself.

To: Roman
Did the police come to pick up your little friend yet?

cure · Aug 6, 2019

Perhaps it was because he was in a rush that the vodka seemed to be taking so long. He certainly wasn't against alcohol by any means, but it wasn't his vice of choice. Roman was reckless in his own right, and to many others' as well, but despite his action he wasn't in any real rush to exit this existence, so he tried not to be aimlessly moronic with his self-sabotage. Tried. Even the one shot wouldn't have been something he would test if he was already there or wasn't trying to black out. Nice as it could be, he didn't like feeling as though he'd wasted his high by being unconscious through most of it, and not every time was enjoyable either. There had been enough times in the pass where he'd experienced vertigo so severe the day after that he could barely get out of bed. That was when he was higher than he was now, even sans the sobering experience of this afternoon. Now, not only was his mood compromised, but so was his high. Maybe if Roman wasn't accustomed to the substances put in his body, so if this was years ago, he would have still been able to ride the wave and relish in it, but every bit was like a water droplet in a desert. Then the thought of missing out on even just one droplet felt like he was passing by an oasis. Therefore in his mind, and to his body, it was modest to take a shot of vodka when already has molly in his system. It even made sense in fact. As it was laced with the weed he smoked earlier, it wasn't a lot (or so he reasoned). But experience informed him that the drug wasn't all fun and games. He'd been anxious, nauseous, had tremors and everything in between. Certainly he wasn't trying to jeopardize things by his mood and wind up in that predicament. Now even a high school freshman could tell one not to mix alcohol with any trace of molly, but Roman reasoned a small shot of vodka was both the gentle buffer and catalyst he needed. Roman didn't just fear his emotions on a social and intrapersonal level. Getting high in the wrong mind state was its own bargain so he inherently felt like he was actually doing a good thing. He needed to feel like he was in control at all times, and this was him taking control. This was him being future-oriented and adaptable and using that frontal lobe. Certainly things a drug addict wouldn't be capable of using. He was fine. He had everything under control, like he always did. And when he started to come down, which would inevitably be more stressful thanks to vodka, he would just supplement that journey with something else. It was always a game of checks and balances.

Roman wasn't that shaken by the events. It had thrown him off guard, sure, and that bothered him more than any fear or anger could. He was fine with being angry. It wasn't that he wanted be a shell of blood and bone and feel absolutely nothing (though his numbing habits told a different story). In fact, plenty of times he did desire to feel, which was exactly why he did what he did. Regardless the rhyme or reason, it all came back to control. Not only was he unskilled and unpracticed in experiencing and processing emotions (also meaning that he wasn't very good at it), it naturally meant that whenever a crack appeared, it spread rapidly until the glass shattered. If trying to even find language for what he was feeling wasn't enough, trying to keep a hold on it was entirely out of his arena. Again, the vodka was truly harmless in the grand scheme of things. It was damage control. People found themselves fucked when they left things unchecked; when they let the drugs get a hold of them. Not him though. He always one step ahead. Because had he truly had a problem, he wouldn't have been able to reason that it was best to leave Nick alone in lieu of checking on Brooklyn. Could you imagine not being there for your friend in a time like this? And yeah, he might have been a little emotionally closed off, but his friend needed him. If he couldn't provide that on his own, what harm was it in getting some assistance? It had never failed him before, he reasoned as he left his room. He reminded himself of this again as he lay stretched along the couch in Brooklyn's apartment, and unlike before, completely relaxed and pleasant and totally unbothered from the weight of this afternoon.

Fortunately, Brooklyn had seemed relatively all right by the time he came over, which was about half an hour after the incident had occurred. Even if he had nothing to offer her, or nothing of value in his mind, he still felt best being around her for his own comfort. Despite the shock of events from someone he thought he knew pretty well, Roman would have still struggled with relaxing if he didn't know for sure Brooklyn was okay. Hell, he couldn't trust her either. He didn't know what she might be thinking or feeling or wanting to do. So even if he wasn't sitting in the living room with her, the echo from the television tugging at his attention intermittently, he would have still wanted to be there just to ensure that Brooklyn herself wasn't going to do anything wild either. And thankfully, it had gone relatively well--all things considered. "It just tastes so much better here," he muttered to himself as he shoveled another spoonful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Everything tasted better here. "Perhaps the flame retardants do add a unique but well-coveted flavor." He craned his neck back over the armrest to peer towards where Brooklyn stood in the kitchen. "If you want to get day drunk, I won't judge you," he called before returning his attention to his phone vibrating on the coffee table. Normally he wouldn't have announced it, but in the moment it didn't seem like a secretive thing for Cara to be texting him. In fact, it was a surprise to him. "Huh. Cara's texted me." He wasn't suddenly suffering from some severe form of memory loss. It truly made no sense why hearing from her seemed more random than it was, but his response didn't reflect the perceive unexpected nature of the event.

To: Cara
where are you? we need to talk

BurningBridges · Aug 6, 2019

Collin didn't really care where he went, so long as everyone would shut the hell up and leave him alone. His pain was still radiating throughout his skull and his mood hadn't softened a bit. If anything, he had grown more agitated over the past two hours. He wasn't in the mood to argue, to discuss things, or to listen to Cara. Running into Nick again was really the least of his concerns, but if spending the night in the Upper East Side meant that he didn't have to listen to Cara's voice for a few hours, then that was what he was going to do. Besides, he enjoyed his childhood home. He had wanted to move out simply because coming from uptown, all the way downtown for school daily was a pain, and he also wanted some freedom, but his childhood home wasn't very restrictive. It was gorgeous and spacious, usually empty outside of the daily housekeeper or his stepmom who kept to herself. It wasn't like his apartment now where he could hear the shower turn on from down the hall, nonetheless have to share said shower with a girl, or feel confined to his room if one of the girls had friends over. He really couldn't complain about his time at home, especially since he didn't have issues with Alice like Cara did.

"Fine, whatever, let's just go," he muttered. While he wanted to snap at Cara, he didn't have the energy right now. He would probably never be able to comprehend how she could be so entirely self-absorbed. He had just been knocked unconscious and left with a concussion, and somehow she was turning this into a pity party for her being forced to live in "the ghetto", AKA an apartment in one of the most coveted neighborhoods in Manhattan, that she didn't spend a penny paying towards. It wasn't surprising, but it was still irritating.

Alice had called an Uber which only took a couple of minutes to arrive, and Collin was grateful for the silence that ensued once they were in the car. Had they ended up with one of those drivers that thought making conversation would lead to a better tip, he probably would have tossed the door open mid-ride and jumped in a bid to end his misery.

BurningBridges · Aug 6, 2019

"What does she want?" On a better day, Brooklyn probably would have had some snide remark about Cara texting Roman. They were the last people who she would guess would be texting each other, and Brooklyn certainly would have had something to say about how Roman was probably trying to get into her pants because he was just that desperate. Right now, it wasn't in her. She didn't have the energy to be vicious, even playfully, and she also didn't feel like she could allow herself to feel so bitterly towards Cara because right now, she needed Cara... sort of. Brooklyn was the last person who would ever beg anyone for anything, nonetheless Cara... let that be known... However, she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that that was what this whole situation was going to come to. She knew that Nick absolutely deserved to sit in a jail cell, likely unable to post bail, and left to deal with a shitty public defender who would do nothing to keep him out of prison. He made his bed, and he deserved to lay in it, because not only was he wrong for physically attacking Collin, but he was wrong for the way he treated her and spoke to her, today and throughout their relationship. She was no saint either, but she hadn't attacked Cara after she found out that Nick slept with her. She thought about it, sure, but apparently unlike Nick, she actually had a few brain cells. Still, even though Brooklyn felt that Nick absolutely deserved to be punished for what he did, she still loved him. She hated, hated, hated thinking that, and admitting it to herself, but it was true. She would always love Nick. She didn't know if she could ever be with him again, and she did know that they were toxic when they were with each other, but she still loved him and the thought of his life being destroyed over this made her feel like she was going to be sick to her stomach. She didn't know if the feelings came from guilt, or sorrow, or pity, but it made her so uncomfortable that she felt like she had to do something to protect him from himself, and from the consequences that were likely already pending from his actions.

It didn't take a genius to know that, especially in today's climate, if you had enough money and connections, laws didn't really apply to you. The Forresters could have gotten Nick arrested even if he had never laid a finger on Collin. Throw in the fact that he did assault Collin, and that Nick's bedroom definitely had felony amounts of drugs in it, coupled with at least one stolen firearm, and he was absolutely fucked. She had to get Collin to drop the charges, and she had to do it now. She couldn't deal with feeling this ill for days and she knew it was only a matter of time before Nick would be facing these charges if they didn't get them dropped.

She planned on getting day drunk whether Roman was going to judge her for it or not. Getting drunk wasn't even necessarily the "plan", but it was just the obvious ending to what her coping mechanism would be. Her bottle of wine only had about one glass's worth left in after she finished pouring her current glass, but she would deal with the empty bottle when the time came. For now, she returned to the living room where Roman lay, sprawled out on the couch. Rather than the chair, she opted to sit on the floor on top of a pillow, resting her glass of wine on the coffee table beside her. "I'm going to have to get her to drop the charges against Nick, so be nice," she said with a sigh. Even though Roman loved Nick as much as she did, she still felt like a fool for saying that out loud. Brooklyn was a strong woman and she disliked the idea of being one of "those" girls that stood by a man who had only done her wrong. It seemed so much less complicated to drop those men when you weren't the girl in that long term relationship, knowing the inside of the good and the bad. She felt like she seemed nothing short of stupid and weak defending him, but she couldn't deal with the feelings that were here now that he was in trouble. If she could fix it, she was going to do so. "Collin's probably half-dead and he obviously doesn't have enough of a spine to stand up to her. If I can do something to get her to agree to have him drop the charges, I'm going to do it."

lauren. · Aug 7, 2019

Because she had no interest in wasting any more of her time in hell, Cara didn't stand in the emergency room entryway with Collin and Alice while they waited for their Uber. Instead, she took Collin's key and walked home. It wasn't comfortable given her outfit and the weather, but she didn't care. It beat the alternative of standing around, and thankfully, the walk was only about five minutes from the building. As she walked, she found herself growing more and more irate with the situation. Not only was her presence absolutely unnecessary since Ruby had called Alice, but the mere fact that Ruby had called Alice was infuriating. Cara couldn't have handled the situation on her own, but for Ruby to just jump to that conclusion felt like it warranted some sort of offense. Who was she to insert herself into their situation, overstepping boundaries like that? If she wanted the event to go by her rules, then she shouldn't have forced Cara to come along too! What a waste of a Saturday!

Part of her hoped that she slipped on ice or got hit by a car while crossing the street, simply because she would never let Ruby live it down, somehow finding a way to put the blame on her. Cara deserved to be soaking in a nice warm bath, a Baobab White Pearls candle burning, without a care in the world. Instead, she was stepping through half melted brown slush, her fingers numb from the cold, a tension headache forming, with nothing but annoyance to show for all of today's hard work.

Why Roman wanted to talk to her was absolutely beyond her, but she felt inclined to answer, simply because if this had something to do with Nick being present and a threat to her safety, she wanted to know.

To: Roman
I'm on my way home and don't need you draining me of any more energy when I get there so what do you want from me?

cure · Aug 7, 2019

"I'm always nice," he noted absently as he thumbed the screen of his phone. It wasn't said in his usual sarcastic tone, though he wasn't being serious either. He wasn't jovial, but his demeanor was light and relaxed, especially compared to his typical disposition and contrasted to the looming atmosphere from Nick's assault. "And as pleasant as I find you, I don't think your charms will fare well with her." Roman didn't know why she wouldn't want to go directly to Collin since Cara couldn't press charges on his behalf, but even still, he didn't see either going positively. Roman seemed unconcerned partially because he was feeling pretty good, but also because he was already settled on and had come to terms with the end result. Nick was going to end up in a cell one way or another. Even though his opinion of Nick was poor right now, he didn't want his friend to get locked up, but the facts spoke for themselves. On top of who he was dealing? The guy really stood no chance. How Roman was the fighter and it was somehow Nick who would end up arrested for assault charges with ironic enough for him to not want to bother trying to comprehend the full scope of things. It was just easiest to accept the fact that Nick would have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Plus, unless all the witnesses agreed to lie and say Nick acted in self-defense, Nick's fate was as good as sealed. "If he's not back tonight, I'll look for him," he stated, still wanting to be a little reassuring, but also emphasizing the fact that he would be the one to seek out Nick if it came to it and not the other way around. As far as Roman was concerned, this was a total stranger he was dealing with. He didn't know what Nick was getting into now or what he would be bringing back, if he did come back, and the last thing he wanted was for Brooklyn to get anymore involved. He looked down towards where she sat on the floor before nudging her from behind. He placed his hand on her head, pulling her head back towards the couch. It wasn't an aggressive or stern. Even his voice spoke to that. Just because he had come to terms with the fact that his flat would be vacant for some time didn't mean he didn't care at all. These were still the closest thing he had to family. He didn't like seeing Nick going off the wall and he didn't like seeing Brooklyn clearly bothered by what happened. "Just relax, all right?" he said, a genuineness in his tone: he truly was asking. Roman patted her cheek twice. "I can't be assed to worry about the both of you."

"Just relax" was definitely an easier said than done concept right now, but Brooklyn was present enough to appreciate Roman's words and tone given who he typically was. She obviously didn't think of him as being some heart-of-stone monster, but they were both similar in having typically unwelcoming demeanors, and Brooklyn knew firsthand that it was typically easier to live in that comfortable space than to be warm. It was easier with someone she cared about like Roman, of course, but still, neither of them were innately warm and fuzzy. On the surface, Roman's request that she chill out and the physical touch wouldn't have seemed sweet at all to an average person, but it was all relative and Brooklyn was someone who understood that well from her own experience.

"He can't come back here," she said, shaking her head, and only pausing in her speech to take a small sip of wine. "If they find out he's home, they'll have the police here, and when he doesn't come out on his own, they'll either get the super to let them in, or they'll get a warrant and just break down the door, and then you'll both be fucked." Back on the topic of not being comfortable with most deep feelings, Brooklyn also wasn't comfortable with confronting her own friends' problems. Nick was one thing because they had been dating, and his problems directly affected her. With someone like Roman, she preferred to play the ignorance is bliss card. It wasn't because she didn't care about him and didn't want to help him, but she was a realist. She knew that some problems were too big for people to solve, and while she didn't like to think that he self-medicated his pain away, she also wasn't stupid. She wasn't aware of the extent of the drug abuse, or what drugs he abused, but she understood how drugs worked enough to tell when he was high on some occasions, and that that high wasn't from weed. Nick had felony amounts of drugs in the apartment for sure, on top of at least one weapon, but she was sure that a quick sweep of the apartment, including Roman's room, would come up with things that would incriminate him as well.

Now wasn't really the time to laugh. It was the time to be sympathetic and understanding and even quiet, the most latter of which was something that Roman was particularly good at. His guard was softened now, though. He wasn't intellectualizing everything and it was easier to just feel and be in the moment, and at the moment, he found Brooklyn funny enough that he couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't too mock her concerns. It was more a response to him being unused to seeing her this way, plus wallowing certainly wasn't going to help anything. "Didn't I say relax?" he pulled forward and swung his legs over the side of the couch, placing his bowl of cinnamony milk on the table in front of him. "You don't think either of us know what could happen?" Roman hadn't considered his own involvement. In his mind it was still a bit extreme, but hopefully things wouldn't need to reach a polarity. "I've got Nick," he said, and he meant it. Pissed as he still might be at Nick, not really because he made a dumbass decision, but because he had assaulted Brooklyn, that was still his friend. Roman would have felt at least slightly better if he'd at least punched Nick, just to feel like he was doing something, but he'd refrained and felt none the wiser or better. He couldn't simply erase history in a matter of a couple of hours though, even if he wanted to. Roman presented himself as a cold and uncaring person, but once he was reeled in, it was actually quite hard for him to let go, which was exactly why he kept such impermeable boundaries. Loyal wasn't the first trait that would come to mind when describing him, but he wasn't so self-serving that he could cut all ties at the drop of a hat. If that was the case, he wouldn't still deal with the guilt and anxiety of his relationship with his parents--wherever that stood. For most, it would have been common sense, easy even, to want nothing to do with the people who simply kept you alive and provided family memories for appearances. He had pictures and videos of Christmases as a child opening presents, but he also had the memory of recognizing his nanny's handwriting on all of his gifts and even his heartfelt birthday cards. If he still couldn't let go of people who couldn't find the time to even bullshit a short note in their only child's birthday card, then Nick was a long ways off from being completely removed from his life. "I won't let anything happen to him if I can help it."

He couldn't assure what Nick's headspace was, so he couldn't tell what Nick would end up doing. Roman would like to think that Nick would know better than to come back, but maybe he would be in the same or worse mental state as before. If that was the case, he wouldn't give a shit about coming back and stirring more problems. So with that in mind, he sent Nick a text, just as he received Cara's response, which he hardly took too seriously despite his response giving off a different vibe. He actually had no plan for her. He wasn't sure why he had texted her what he did, but a chat was probably necessary, if to not at the very least do some damage control before the inevitable.

To: Nick
don't come back here, cops might come. call me when you cool

To: Cara
fix your attitude before you get here

"The same goes for you too, though, knucklehead." He nudged Brooklyn with his knee. "So don't go being a pain in my ass trying to get involved," his own way of stating that he didn't want her getting her any further. Dealing with her being concerned over someone who simply needed a good ass beating and a couple nights in a cell wasn't his preference. Perhaps Roman was making overzealous promises, but he wanted Brooklyn to cheer up, at least a little bit. Even he felt partially responsible for her mood. Not that anyone could have anticipated what Nick had done, no one liked seeing their friends distressed, especially when you felt like there was something you could have done but you didn't. He told himself that taking things further with Nick would have been the wrong move, that it would have made things worst, but it wasn't clicking. "If he does come back here without me knowing, you call me." Roman wasn't trying to paint his friend as some rampant criminal (which, technically, he was), but Brooklyn seemed like more of the victim in the moment. Roman couldn't have done anything to help Nick in the moment, but he could with Brooklyn and he felt like he failed her as a friend. Even the molly wouldn't have him admitting that right now though. The high was decent, but not that good. "Not to make him sound like some psycho, but still," he offered before an airy chuckle. "If he puts his hands on you again I can't promise I won't murder him." Had Roman been sober, the frostiness of his words would have likely made his statement less jarring. But instead, as he got comfortable on the couch once again, leaning into the back and staring up at the ceiling, he was oddly pleasant and unassuming. It was no different than stating it was a cold, ugly day out. It wasn't meant to be rude or threatening; it was simply a fact.

BurningBridges · Aug 11, 2019

"He is a psycho," Brooklyn contended. Even though she knew that Roman was physically a fair match for Nick, after today, she unfairly felt like no one could deal with him. She felt like he was some sort of monster, and maybe she was right. Even if she wasn't, she knew that she would feel even worse if Roman and Nick got into it over what Nick had said and done to her. She appreciated it, obviously, but she didn't like the idea of dragging anyone else into her problems. She didn't need Roman getting tied up in something that he didn't need to be involved in, especially when, as far as Brooklyn knew, Roman and Nick were kind of all that each other had (besides her). None of them were very different than each other. They all had acquaintances and people who could probably be called friends, but no one outside of their threesome that they actually really cared about. Nick and Roman were like brothers, and at the very least, were roommates, and that was why Brooklyn preferred to keep Roman out of their problems.

"I feel like he just needs serious help." She hated the idea of excusing Nick's behavior as being mental health issues because she didn't truly think it was that, but she did think that professional help could help him. "He needs to get a real job and do something other than smoke all day." Honestly, Roman's life wasn't much different, but she wasn't putting him in the hot seat right now since he hadn't done anything wrong. "He just needs help."

cure · Aug 11, 2019

Thursday, February 14, 2019 || 8:30 PM

Chanel was no prodigy. She had gotten a C in art class in middle school and cheated her way through APUSH junior year, but she was good at many other things. She was damned good a volleyball, she could strike a conversation up with just about anyone, and she could throw a kickass gathering. Even as a teenager she was told to go into event planning. Outside of Chanel just being the kind of person to always be invited to things growing up, it was also because of her inclination for events. She didn't take the comment too seriously. Event planning sounded boring, plus getting paid to do something somehow took the joy out of doing it, but that didn't mean she wouldn't do it for free. And that was what this essentially was as not a single dime (except for some of the decorations) came out of her pocket. It made it all the more easier and enjoyable to call herself a co-host. Who didn't like dining on someone else's dime? This wasn't really meant to be one of those kinds of parties. It was just a cute idea that she and her group project members who had grown close during their midterm project had come up with. None of them were necessarily friends, but that was the fun thing about school. Nothing was ever really that serious. Minus the annoyingly boring adult student who was forever in a bad mood because his wife divorced him and take everything including the kids, she had lucked out with a pretty solid group. One such member happened to be Klaus, a French exchange student who was loaded. Loaded enough that it was completely confusing why he was attending a CUNY, but he was the one financing the get together tonight. It would have made the most sense to just have things at his place, but considering he actually lived in a pretty upscale place, it seemed a better idea to do it elsewhere. The responsibility didn't even fall on Chanel, as another group member, Maggie, had offered to help, but Klaus was pretty insistent that Chanel have a hand. Chanel wasn't dumb. She knew when a guy was trying to get cozy with her, but she took no issue in leaning into that when it came to her benefit. Being a tease for a cute speed dating party was worth it in her books. She took these kind of things seriously. Unlike some people. "Why the hell aren't you dressed?" she hissed when Roman opened the door with a towel hapharzardly wrapped around his waist.

"Why the hell are you banging on my door like the cops?"

"The party starts in half an hour," she said, trying to remain some cheeriness in her voice. She didn't really need to. Even though Roman was technically do her a favor, she was the one doing him a solid. The same day the Nick assaulted Collin, he had come to her with a request. Even though it had been almost two weeks since then, she still hadn't spoken to Collin. At first she had no plan of helping Roman or Nick. And the only reason she changed her mind was because the idea of Roman providing his spot to host came to mind. And she somehow still hadn't spoken to Collin yet, but she wasn't going to bring that up, and hopefully Roman didn't either. The thing was, what do you say to someone with something like that?

"What party?"

Chanel could feel the color fade from her face. She was so dumbfounded that she couldn't even manage to sputter. After Roman took a step back and widened the door for her to come in, she realized that he was just joking. "Ah. Sarcasm," she said, trying to conceal the panic that just rushed through her body. "Wonderful sense of humor you have." She went over to the kitchen, placing the bag she held atop the island counter. After she unloaded the fourth bottle of liquor, she caught Roman's glance.

"How many people are coming?" he asked warily.

Chanel looked up towards the ceiling, trying to recount how many invitations she sent out. "I think I invited maybe 20 or 30. I don't know about the rest."

"What do you mean the rest?"

"The other four invited people too. The caterers should also be here soon, so they'll probably need to use the island for the food. Also it's cool if people do coke, right?"

When Roman went to Chanel for help, it was because he had no other choice. The only thing standing between Nick and jail was Brooklyn, and lucky for him, Roman liked Brooklyn because that was the only reason he turned to Chanel as a last resort. When she came back to him asking that he simply provide his space for some stupid speed dating party, it seemed like a pretty easy trade off. But he was also expecting something small and intimate and lame. Roman wasn't new to parties or anything, but he didn't like hosting them. He also didn't like being around people he didn't knew. He was particular about his space and his boundaries, and the idea of people--more than thirty at that--invading that space made him dizzy. "I actually don't allow drugs in my apartment," he stated with a cold look at Chanel who, judging from her expression, actually believed him. It was clear she was trying to find a way to say something along the lines of 'But you live with a drug dealer and you're on drugs and there is definitely cocaine in this apartment right now'.

"Sarcasm," she said with a witty smile as she pointed towards him proudly as if she had figured out a riddle. "I'm not saying it's going to be that kind of party, just that there may be narcotics. Cool?"

It didn't bother him, but he really didn't have a choice regardless, which was what actually irritated him. He didn't like being blindsided and he also didn't like the unknown or going with the flow. There were too many possibilities for tonight. He told himself that he would just stay in his room for the night, but something told him there was a slim chance of that happening. "Yeah, whatever." Roman walked to the opposite side of the island from where Chanel stood, grabbing one of the bottles of Don Julio. He raised his brow and glanced up at her, to which she promptly shook her head. "I don't got it like that. This dude is just trying to fuck me."

"Right then," Roman said quickly, setting the bottle on the island. He didn't know Chanel like that, and he wasn't particularly interested in doing so. After she helped with this Nick situation, he was more than happy with never speaking to her again. He didn't necessarily dislike her, but he never really had an affinity for jovial people. They were annoying and oblivious and had no sense of boundaries, which was exactly why he was going to set them now. "I don't know what you have planned for tonight," he said as Chanel turned her back to him, rummaging through the cabinets for a glass. "But there are some rules. Everyone stays in the kitchen or the living room. The bathroom is right there and that's the only door they need to open. Don't go into--"

"Don't go into your room because it's off limits. Don't go into Nick's room because there's a felony level amount of drugs." She opened one of the bottles, pouring a shot for herself. She poured another, sliding it towards Roman. She gave him a playful wink. "You know you're invited, right?"

"I have a girlfriend," Roman said as he slid the drink back towards her. He began back towards his room, with Chanel's gleeful gasp coming from behind him.

"Oh my gosh! You do?!" she squealed. It only took Roman glancing over his shoulder for her to register that he was once again just puling her leg. "Enough with the sarcasm!"

Bandit_ · Aug 12, 2019

Makayla often wished for change in her life, but this wasn't the kind of change that she ever would have asked for.

Her father called her from prison every once in a while. Sometimes she didn't answer, but sometimes she did. She didn't necessarily care to hear from him, but he was her blood and he had raised her. Even if on paper, her upbringing seemed rough and poor, which it was, it wasn't horrible. He provided for her and made sure that she was taken care of, and she was never really subjected to any sort of abuse like Holly was. He wasn't a good man and he had a lot of evil in him, but he was still her father.

When they talked, it was usually about how he needed money, or more typically, about how he needed her to send money to some contact of his who was still doing business for him on the outside. You heard that right - despite being sentenced to prison for drug-related crimes that were going to keep him locked up until old age, her father still had the gall to manage his trafficking and production business from behind bars. Makayla rarely questioned it, especially because he talked about it in a discrete code-sort of way on the phone, and asking for details would only be more risky for him since his calls were monitored, but from what she knew, he believed that his associates were keeping a good share of his money on the side for him for when he got out. Makayla didn't buy it, but she didn't care enough to get into it with him. The money wasn't ever going to see the inside of her pockets whether it existed or not, so she couldn't put the energy into it.

Except now she had to put the energy into it.

She had made the mistake of answering his call this morning, and one thing led to another, and she was now on her way to the Bronx to help a bunch of criminals traffic drugs. Her father promised her that it would only take a few days, a week at most, and that she would leave with enough cash in hand to make it worth it, but when all of the details were explained, it was clear that she didn't have a choice one way or another. Her dad owed people money and without these drugs, his head was basically on the line.

She felt like this was going to be a suicide mission, and maybe it was. She was sure that she would either end up killed or in prison herself, but she also wondered how much worse that could be than the already shitty life she lived. The only reason why neither of those options seemed viable was because of Holly - the one thing that also made her feel like going along with this was reckless. Then again, the amount of money she was promised for just a week's worth of work was enough to change the way that she would be able to provide for Holly for a while. And again, she had no choice either way. Either she let her dad drown (maybe literally), and possibly have people come for her and Holly as some sort of twisted and sick payment, or she attempt to solve the problem and possibly reap a benefit of it.

She had no one to take care of Holly, and she couldn't just tell the few people in her life that she somewhat trusted with Holly that, "oh hey, I'm going to move some bricks for a few days. Mind watching the kid for me?", but again, what choice did she have? She texted Brooklyn that morning while Holly was at school, explaining that there was a tragic accident in the family and she had to leave the city overnight immediately, and asking if she wouldn't mind picking Holly up from school. She could have asked Chanel or Ruby, but she felt too much on a friends-only level with Chanel to want to task her with that, and she felt too judged by Ruby, so Brooklyn was her saving grace for the moment.

She would end up texting Ruby on Friday morning explaining that someone had passed away and she needed to help with funeral arrangements and such, in hopes that she wouldn't mind taking Holly too and from school until then (and insisting that Holly could take care of herself otherwise (even if it wasn't true), and that she would compensate her for her time).

BurningBridges · Aug 13, 2019

Brooklyn was glad that she wasn't working tonight. It wasn't necessarily because she had anything better to do, but because if working at a strip club already meant being surrounded by scummy men, working at a strip club on Valentine's Day meant that tenfold. It was more excusable to see men there on Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or Easter Sunday than on Valentine's Day, because those people could be excused as travelers, or non-religious people, or people who simply opted against celebrating those holidays and needed something to do. The same could be said for Valentine's Day, but to go to a strip club as your "something else to do" when the entire point of the holiday was to be with someone you romantically enjoyed, made the patrons appear to be all the more pathetic and creepy. And they usually were -- they were the ones who barely spent any money, and were the obnoxious losers that you would expect them to be. Maybe they deserved pity, but Brooklyn wasn't the kind of person who threw that out easily, so it was for everyone's best that she wasn't working.

Makayla lucked out in an unintended way as well. While Brooklyn could think of a million other things that she would have preferred to do over spend the afternoon with Holly, she had agreed to pick her up from school when Makayla texted her that morning. She had agreed partially because she did have a heart, but also because the text had been so random and uncharacteristic of Makayla, that she felt more compelled to do so. Makayla had never really asked her for any sort of favor before, and she had never heard of Makayla leaving Holly, nor had she heard of any family that they had, so three strange factors combined made it seem like a more worthy cause to get behind. Besides, even though Holly was annoying, she was also probably the best distraction that anyone could ask for, and on a day that signified something that was currently plaguing Brooklyn's life, she needed all of the distractions that she could get.

Brooklyn had spent time with Holly on her own before, so she knew how exhausting the girl had the potential to be, but when she was forced to do it, it somehow felt worse. There was more responsibility, and Brooklyn wasn't a fan of that, though it did force her to acknowledge that Makayla was pretty bad ass for dealing with this for years and still having a functioning head.

To: Roman
I want coke tn

She fired off the text nonchalantly before setting her phone down on the kitchen table of Makayla's apartment and looking at Holly, who sat across from her. Makayla had said that she just needed to drop Holly off in the apartment after picking her up, and that she would be fine for the afternoon and night on her own, but obviously, it hadn't gone that way. Holly had somehow drawn her into spending the afternoon and evening with her, and now Brooklyn felt semi-bad about just getting up and leaving her. On top of the guilt, she was also just skeptical of the girl's ability to do anything for herself, even if that wasn't fair.

"Don't you usually go to bed at like, six o'clock?"

A_Writer · Aug 14, 2019

"At my old house, there was a lady who lived on the other side of the street from us and she always sat outside because she liked to smoke, and she wore red sandals in the summer, and one time I told her I was gonna stay up until four o'clock in the morning and she said the only thing open after two o'clock are people's legs."

Holly didn't answer Brooklyn's question directly, not because she didn't want to for a particular reason, but simply because that was the first thing that popped into her mind. Brooklyn was right that she did go to bed early (though obviously not at six o'clock), and this was around the time of night that she would usually be in bed. Today had been a bit different than normal days though, because Holly had been picked up from school by Brooklyn, only to be told that Makayla was working double shifts tonight. In reality, Makayla had lied to Brooklyn about why she was MIA, and Brooklyn was lying to Holly, but it was probably for the best, at least in regard to Holly. Had Brooklyn told her that Makayla was out of the city dealing with something family related, Holly would have been confused about who it was related to and what it was related to. While Makayla had extended family, they had effectively cut them off after their parents were imprisoned, so they didn't really count as family anymore (in Holly's eyes). Additionally, Holly would have been concerned if she knew that Makayla was actually out of the city, sleeping somewhere else for the night. She was understandably attached to her sister, and being blissfully ignorant in believing that she was at work relinquished the need for any fear or anxiety.

"Are you happy that you got to spend Valentine's Day with me this year?" She rolled a super ball on the table top absentmindedly between her hands as she looked over at the blonde. She was definitely happy that she had gotten to spend the day with Brooklyn. Her admiration for the girl was well known, even if it was arguably misplaced. "A lot of people think that you have to have a boyfriend to celebrate it but you don't. Boys are gross and a waste of time... except for Collin because I think he's nice and his face is nice too." She yawned, though unwilling to disrupt her evening with Brooklyn even if she was tired. "Next time you go to the store, can you look to see if they sell pogo sticks?"

BurningBridges · Aug 17, 2019

Collin felt pretty indifferently towards Valentine's Day. He wasn't one of those people that were extra bitter on the holiday because they didn't have a companion, but he also wasn't a hopeless romantic who was praying for the day that he was in a relationship so he could celebrate it. He had always enjoyed the holiday as a kid, simply because it meant getting candy and being able to fill out cards for all of his classmates, but as he got older and was introduced to how it was more commercialized and serious than that, he stopped caring. He had never been in a serious relationship, so the holiday didn't mean much to him, and life went on as it always did.

He had class today which went fine, had sushi ordered in, and spent most of the evening doing homework. It was an uneventful day, but one that was uneventful in a way that he was content with. As he had learned last week, sometimes the more exciting days were the worst days, but that lesson learned was something that he just wanted to have erased from his memory at this point. He was physically fine at this point. There was a nasty bruise on the side of his head, but luckily for appearance's sake, it was situated under his hair so it wasn't really visible just looking at him, but as far as he could tell, that was the only sign left that it had happened.

Even if the injury was fading physically, Collin couldn't escape it that easily from a mental standpoint. From having to deal with his father forcing him to meet with lawyers, talking about the charges they had filed and potentially suing the apartment building (for what, Collin still didn't know...), to having to deal with daily texts from his former nanny turned stepmother insisting that he move back home, and then having Cara chide him nearly daily about how he deserved this for messing around with Brooklyn, he felt like his head was more likely to explode from everyone's words rather than Nick's blow. Collin wasn't opposed to the charges that he had filed against Nick because it was obvious that it was a well-deserved charge. Even if you were angry about someone sleeping with your ex, you weren't allowed to assault them. Common sense. At the same time, he really just wanted everyone to shut the fuck up about the entire incident, and put it to rest once and for all. Collin wasn't the type to hold a grudge, but he also had never cared for Nick enough that if he apologized, he would say it was all good and they could be friends. They had never been friends in the past, and they weren't friends now. Nick deserved some sort of punishment for all of this, but Collin would have preferred it be something easier than this mess.

A few days ago, Chanel had texted him about a Valentine's Day party she was hosting. For some reason she was hosting it at Roman's place, which was odd in itself, and for understandable reasons, made Collin wary of the idea of attending. Nick hadn't been seen in the building for the past week as far as Collin knew, but still, it was probably really stupid to show up to his home after all of this. He had been pretty set on the idea of not attending until an old friend of his, , texted him saying that she was in town and was looking for something to do. He was surprised that she was in New York to begin with, given that she attended college in California, but he didn't ask too many questions when she said that she was stressed and upset and needed to get out for the night, figuring that he'd find out what was up in person. He had agreed to hanging out an hour or so ago, and while he had originally figured that they would just hang out at his apartment, watch a movie or something low key like that, his anxiety started to get the best of him. Even if it didn't mean anything to him, it was Valentine's Day after all, and Collin didn't want her to think that she was trying to exploit her being upset by trying to get in her pants or something. Instead, he impulsively decided that he'd bring her to Chanel's party, at least for a little while.

To: Chanel
Mind if I bring a friend tonight? Lmk what I can bring too

lauren. · Aug 22, 2019

Ahhh, Valentine's Day - a great reminder of being single and alone, in what Cara's dramatic mind deemed to be a forever state.

In reality, there were hoards of men that Cara could have dated. She had been in a relationship last year, but it was boring and didn't seem like something that would last til the future, so she cut it off. What she turned to next wasn't any better, since sleeping with Nick had caused her far more problems than it had solved, but she never thought that that would end in Valentine's Day worthy romance anyway. Maybe the problem was that she didn't know if she wanted Valentine's Day worthy romance. Did she want to be tied down to one man? She had enough problems with herself right now, did she have the energy, interest, or desire to care about another person's problems too? Did she want to open up to another person about her own baggage and be criticized about all of the wrong turns she took in life so far? These were probably all common worries but they were stifling to Cara. Days like today made her feel like a relationship would be worth it, and she didn't necessarily doubt that, but at the same time, finding someone was an issue in itself. Even if she had tons of guys that expressed their interest in her, none of them were good enough. Some weren't wealthy enough, others weren't driven enough, some were outrageously boring, and others were entitled and condescending to a point that made even Cara cringe. Even men that seemed like they would be perfect fits for Cara seemed to leave her glancing past them at other people who entered their space. She didn't know what she wanted, and it was beyond frustrating.

Even so, she had an image to maintain, so at six o'clock today, she sat at a table at Daniel, a Michelin star restaurant that she had frequented many times before because of its close proximity to her father's home, across from a friend of a friend's. Robert had been born and raised in Manhattan like Cara, but was a few years older than her, and was the brother of one of her good friend's boyfriend. He was attractive enough, well-educated, well-spoken, charming, and was a rising player at his father's law firm. On paper, he was a perfect match and Cara knew that. She realized all of these things, but still, the spark just wasn't there on her end.

Halfway through the dinner she had texted Chanel that she changed her mind and would be coming to the party, and by 8:45, she was knocking on Roman's apartment door with a bottle of Patrón Añejo 7 Años in one hand, and a bottle of Armand de Brignac in the other.

BurningBridges · Aug 26, 2019

The stories that Holly told that included any aspect of her life before Brooklyn met her were always weird. The ones that came from times when Brooklyn knew her were typically weird too, but it was hard for Brooklyn to envision just how Holly grew up. She didn't know the ins and outs of her upbringing in the slightest, and while anyone could figure that things weren't great given her current situation and what she did say about the past, it was still hard to envision a younger, stupider, more vulnerable Holly. Even if Brooklyn found her to be a pest, she couldn't imagine ever hurting her, or neglecting her, or allowing her to grow up knowing so little. It wasn't hard to guess that Holly had some sort of actual learning disorder, but she was also convinced that there were probably things that could have been done to help her years ago, when her brain was still in that active learning phase. Resources, hadn't there been resources?.

Even though Brooklyn was aware of how cruel life could be and how life was with very little to your name, she wasn't raised that way. She was raised in a middle to upper middle class lifestyle where childhood was filled with Girl Scouts, and soccer games, and Sunday school. Her mom would read to her every night until she was old enough to do it herself, at which point she would insist on reading to her sister and pretending to be a teacher. She never really struggled with any aspect of learning but if she had, not only would her parents have been there to help her, but her school had tutors, and speech pathologists, and extra help classes. The classrooms weren't overcrowded, kids weren't coming in in outfits they had worn a few days in a row because their parents couldn't get to a laundromat, and being on the public assistance free lunch program was unheard of.

Given this, even though she was fully competent and aware that she had a privileged childhood and that so many children weren't as lucky, it was still hard to imagine just how wrong something could have went, especially with Holly sitting in front of her now. She was a sweet, healthy, energetic child. How could they have let the system fail her?

"Just go to bed, okay? I have stuff to do tonight, so just brush your teeth, get in bed, and Makayla will be back by the time you wake up, all right?" Maybe it was a bit abrupt, but Brooklyn wasn't snapping or suddenly adopting a harsh tone. She stood up and took a few steps away from the kitchen table before pausing, glancing back at Holly, and motioning for her to get up and go. A tiny part of her did feel bad leaving, but only because Holly was like a puppy that couldn't be left alone for five minutes without crying and tearing up the couch (or so Brooklyn thought, at least). If nothing else, she just wanted to see her leave the kitchen so no one could blame her if she did burn the place down.

cure · Aug 26, 2019

While it was a speed dating party hosted on Valentine's day, it wasn't meant to be a serious event. Just as having a scavenger hunt on Easter had nothing to do with the resurrection of Christ, but were somehow intrinsically linked, so was Valentine's Day and dating. Chanel was in a consistent state of feeling like she was up to her neck in water, so taking actual responsibility for other peoples' romance was beyond her. As with most things, she enjoyed the fun but not the responsibility. It was why the party probably seemed more formal and put together than it actually was. Chanel had sent out virtual invitations and all, but there wasn't much order to things. Her previous comment about coke wasn't because she planned on clearing the coffee table to host multiple lines of cocaine, but because Klaus and his closer circle definitely partook and she wasn't sure when or where during the evening that would occur. All the bottles of alcohol and the catering were also unnecessary, but Chanel loved to be overzealous. She didn't like struggling or feeling like she was coming from a place of lack. Practicality was never her style, which was exactly why this whole adulting thing was ripping her to shreds. Parties were a time where practicality could go out the window, which was maybe another reason why she liked them so much. Even when it was a quarter till and the catering suddenly cancelled because the vehicle had gotten into an accident en route, she couldn't find herself stressing. The fact that Collin texted her just a beat after that news asking to bring more people was a sign to her that she had nothing to worry about. It would get solved someway. It was certainly a peculiar perspective, but it was one of the few times when Chanel was receptive to challenges. Social gatherings, especially ones she was part of hosting, weren't just fun for the typical reasons. It was also incredibly validating. It was direct and visual proof of being validated, and being drunk most of the time didn't hurt either.

To: Collin
the more the merrier! catering just cancelled, so if you have any food you'd like to donate that'd be

Even if Collin couldn't help, Roman was there. She did feel slightly bad since she was beginning to get on the verge of exploiting this favor of his, but he was asking a lot from her. She hadn't spoken to Collin about the incident at all except for well wishes. It wasn't until this evening that the idea of bringing him into this space was probably not the best idea. She didn't think Roman would do anything to Collin, but it would definitely be awkward and she could understand why one wouldn't want the person pressing charges against your friend to be in your home drinking alcohol and having a good time. Now that was enough to get her stomach knotted up. It was a lot easier to replace catered food than it was to talk down a rightful charge. The fact that she still hadn't brought it up to Roman didn't make matters better for her. She figured if he really cared about getting Nick off the hook then it wouldn't matter, but after Nick's outburst, she couldn't say that she was too comfortable in her people skills.

cure · Aug 26, 2019

Roman was never a fan of crowds, intimate gatherings, or strangers. It certainly gave more credit to his tactless social skills than the more easily identifiable unfriendly personality provided. As with any, it was a cause for concern when he was a child. Being a kid and enjoying his youth wasn't a priority of his (or his parents' rather) when he was smaller, but it was apparent enough that even they to found it kind of strange that their child never behaved like a kid when he was granted permission. Of course they made up for it by immediately advocating for medication; another reason why Roman wasn't completely torn by his current situation since it seemed he would have ended up here anyway. His anxiety was peculiar, but something he would probably grow out of was the verdict his parents were given. They were advised to put him into regular schooling so that he might strengthen his social skills, but that never happened. The anxiety never went away, not really. He just formed his own remedy in the form of an unhealthy defense mechanism. Acting above social engagement was pretty effective, though it didn't do much in the way of not living out a relatively unfulfilling existence, especially when prior to that it was based solely on academics. As little credit as he gave himself, thankfully he didn't turn out to be one of those asocial geniuses that excelled in mental aptitude but lacked so poorly in anything else that they turned out to be absolute terrors in society. Even without the pills, he wasn't crippled from the thought of social interaction or anything, but he still didn't like organic communication. It still freaked him out because, for one, he wasn't good at it and Roman wasn't good at not being good at things. For two, his brain was far too analytical and tunneled. When there was a problem, he needed a plan and a solution. He didn't like loose ends and open-endedness. He wasn't alone in this by any means, but having no practiced emotional intelligence on top of no experience with developing friendships as a child made an easy recipe for feeling completely isolated from the rest of the world. He had no idea just how common a feeling it really was, especially in the digital age. But in his mind, there was something completely wrong with him in this regard, despite it making total sense given his upbringing and who he was as a person. He was a find a problem and fix it kind of person, and he did find a way, though it certainly wasn't the ideal way and had far more consequences than the discomfort of this upcoming event brought, though his mental dependence on substances had him convinced otherwise. Really convinced. To the point that his discomfort was less from the fact that there would be strangers in his home than the fact that he had no way to alleviate that discomfort.

He had ways. Plenty of them that were just in his room, and so normally this wouldn't have been an issue. But he had been completely beside himself for the first couple of days after the big incident with Nick and Collin. It wasn't because of that, but because he was reaping the repercussions of his brain being totally depleted of serotonin thanks to the molly, and the alcohol he had on top of it only made things worse. It wasn't his first time experiencing a bad come down, but there were definitely levels to it, some hard to predict, and the most recent one was one he wasn't prepared for. He didn't eat for three days and by the third day he'd become fixated on calculating the exact amount of pills, and in what combinations if he chose to mix them, would kill him. Despite this, he was aware enough that he had certainly crossed the threshold of needing to go to the hospital, but he'd chosen to drink as a remedy. To him, it was his only option since he was certain if he used his typical method, he would just swallow the entire bottle. Now the thought of alcohol made him sick to his stomach and the come down was traumatic enough that he didn't want to take anything for tonight. So it seemed like he was stuck with organic conversation for tonight. He had been in a weird mood ever since his neurotransmitters started to get back into commission, but being (mostly) sober for this long made him feel strange on his own. What Roman really wanted was to be left alone, but he knew he couldn't explain that he allowed his friend to get hauled off to jail because he didn't want to be social.

After about fifteen minutes, he was dressed and ready for the night to be over. He came outside to Chanel lining small solo cups on the counter. She smiled at him sweetly when she saw him emerge from his room. Why, he had no idea. Her persistent optimism really drove his last nerve, and he typically had no problem in letting that be known, but he felt he had to play nice tonight for Nick's sake.

"You look nice," Chanel said when Roman made his way over to the island. She was in the middle of preparing shots for the guests when he appeared. Instead of accepting the compliment, Roman rolled his eyes and diverted them elsewhere. She found Roman to be annoying because he always seemed to be in a pissy mood, plus she didn't like drug addicts, as non-PC as that sounded. Sometimes, though, she did find him to be funny because it was clear he was kind of awkward. The more she remembered to remind herself of that, the easier it was to not take offense to the things he said and did. And if maintaining her positive energy was annoying, then it was all to do it. "Want to help get these ready?" She stepped aside to make space as he grabbed a bottle from the island and began to open it. "I probably should have asked before right now, butttt...it's totally fine if Collin comes over, right?"

"Why would he need to be here?" Roman asked coolly. It didn't sound like he was being sarcastic, which was somehow more irritating as it meant that Chanel had to make this conversation more direct than she wanted it to be.

"Well, that's usually what people do when they get invited placed," she said. Roman didn't glance up and instead focused on pouring the alcohol into the cups. Chanel exhaled, as she didn't know if he was purposely being dense or if she really should have not invited Collin tonight. "It would probably be a lot easier to have that conversation with him, you know?" She laughed through the explanation, shooting finger guns that he did not acknowledge in his direction. Fortunately, there was a knock at the door just then.

"You haven't talked to him yet?"

"Yet is, like, the key word in that sentence."

"So no."

"Not no. Just no, not yet," Chanel said quickly as she made her way to the door. "Just wanted to run that by you real quick, thanks for being understanding," she sang just before she opened the door. "And look! It's my favorite Forrester here to rescue me with a bottle of...a presumably very wealthy French man." It was either a funny or embarrassing comment depending on how important wine was to a person. To Chanel, it clearly just an means to an end, with an end being intoxication. She ushered the girl in, more than relieved to be saved from the previous conversation. "You're actually the first one here which means you get to watch me brainstorm how I'm going to replace the catering that just bailed on me. It also means you get to open the name tag bag and be the first to write your name." Chanel dug in one of the bags she brought and pulled out a pack of name tags. "Roman's setting up a couple of drinks and I'm just finishing up with decorations if you want to help with either. Or you can just relax and look cute like you always do. Plus you can use this extra time to give me concrete details on what kind of guy you're looking for so I know who you should avoid tonight."

lauren. · Aug 27, 2019

Cara smiled brightly when Chanel opened the door, welcoming her inside (of an apartment that she normally never would have wanted to step foot in). She still didn't understand why Chanel had decided to have the party here, but she also wasn't overly concerned about it. As long as Roman wasn't planning on being an ass, Nick didn't show up, and she didn't accidentally step on an intravenous needle, she was fine with it. "It's that brand that Jay Z owns," Cara explained, setting the bottles of champagne and tequila down on the kitchen counter. "I've never actually had it, but the guy at the liquor store said that it's good." For $300 a bottle, it certainly deserved to be good.

"It's your school friends who are coming, right? I don't know if--" Cara was on the verge of telling Chanel that she didn't know if any of them would be her type, and throwing in a "no offense", just because, when she spotted the prepared shots sitting on the island. "Ooh, what's in these?" she asked, lifting one, and then glancing over at Roman, who she hadn't acknowledged until now. "You should probably take a few of these before anyone shows up. Getting drunk is probably the only chance you have at people thinking you're bearable." It wasn't an out of the ordinary jab on her part, but the playful smile on her face spoke to the idea that she was only really starting up with their normal banter - not trying to be blatantly mean. Her relationship with Roman was an odd one... or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was simply a shared feeling of lust between two people who were used to tossing around sharp words enough that it came as an easy mask to build and hide the sexual tension that existed between them. Cara consistently liked to point out the many ways that they were different, but at the end of the day, they were more similar than she even knew. She didn't see herself ending up in Roman's bed tonight, so she wasn't starting a banter with that intention, but then again, who knew what would happen after a couple of drinks. It was Valentine's Day, after all, and with a lackluster date behind her, and a preset frame of mind that she wasn't going to find anything romantic at this party, maybe some no-strings-attached fun would do her well tonight.

"But no, seriously, I think we should all take one before everyone gets here. I probably won't like Chanel's weirdo friends anymore than you will," she added, looking towards Roman, though she flashed Chanel a teasing smile as well as she added, "How many people are coming, and is there someone on-reserve for you?"

cure · Aug 28, 2019

"Tequila," Chanel said, answering before Roman got a chance too. She said it absently as she searched through the bag, otherwise she wouldn't have interrupted. She was looking for the markers she swore she bought, and in that time she missed the coy glance that Roman returned Cara before rolling his eyes and returning to pouring the drinks. Fortunately, she emerged victorious with a box of black Sharpies in hand. "For sure. We have enough to go around." She grabbed one of the mini solo cups that Roman handed her. Chanel had sent out invites, but didn't require any invites since that was a bit OD, even for her. Plus, she had told people to invite who they wanted so long as they weren't gonna come with drama. She also wasn't picky about turn around time either, evident in her response to Collin. She expected people to wade in and out anyway, but she would have been surprised if it wasn't a little cozy an hour in. It wasn't like the apartment was huge, and there was really only the kitchen and living room to move around in, so it wouldn't take a lot for things to start feeling intimate and snug. Chanel had certainly invited 4 of her closest friends, plus the other 4 girls that she wasn't the closest too but knew well enough socially. She'd told them to invite who they wanted because she trusted them, and she didn't care. They always had a good time together so she trusted whoever they brought would bring a good vibe. Chanel didn't know much about her other group members, but there were four others. She was sure between the five of them they could muster something a solid head count. "I honestly have know idea. I lost count of how many people I sent the invite too."

Chanel sat her cup on the counter before swinging herself onto it. "Honestly, I feel like it was mostly word of mouth because I just told people to invite who they want, so fingers crossed no gang bangers show up." The latter comment was meant as a joke since Chanel didn't know any people besides the inhabitants of this apartment that she would expect to communicate with people where that would be a concern. Cara wasn't the best audience for such a joke, though, so she gave the girl an innocent wink. "My guess is like 20 or 30, modest? Your brother said he's bringing someone over, so I'm sure he won't be the only case like that." Chanel unraveled a hair tie from wrist. She twirled her curls atop her head and secured it haphazardly so that it slumped down a couple of inches from where she initially pinned it. "No one on the wait list for me, but I'm debating how drunk I want to get and how badly I want to risk getting mono. This is really just for shits and giggles, but I'm definitely taking credit if someone gets paired up tonight. I love playing matchmaker. Maybe I can work my magic on you, Roman."

"No thanks."

"Fifteen minutes," she said to Cara, meaning the amount of time she's had to deal with Roman and his succinct dialogue. "We definitely need to get you drunk. And then you need to tell me some fun facts so I can help you, because I don't trust that you can carry a conversation on your own. I know you and I are best buds, but most people would find you rude." Chanel was clearly being annoying on purpose, which was why she didn't wait for a response, even when she saw Roman open his mouth to say something. Had she hesitated, though, it would have been ample time for Roman to inform her that he didn't like her. "Why's your hand empty?" Roman simply waved his hand dismissively. Chanel, or anyone for that matter, wouldn't have been able to have insight into why Roman wasn't in the mood to drink. To her, he was just protesting and being obnoxious for the sake of not wanting any social interaction to go smoothly. "No, sir. You're taking a shot. Maybe even two because I'm not allowing this energy at the party." While she was insistent, she was still surprised that Roman picked up a cup. She was expecting to have to press him more, but what she didn't realize was that Roman didn't like the spotlight and was very eager to change the topic of conversation from himself. "Cheers to the second worst holiday of the year!" she exclaimed gleefully before she poured the liquid into her mouth. It was as she was scrunching her face did she remember that she didn't have any salt and lime. "The first worst is Thanskgiving, obviously." She hopped off the counter to move back to the island where her phone was. "Why is Thanksgiving the worst?" Roman asked. Chanel looked at him to see if he was kidding. She didn't necessarily expect him much about the traditions involving Thanksgiving since she knew it wasn't celebrated in the UK, but the holiday existed before America did, therefore she figured it wasn't crazy to assume he would have some knowledge about it considering it would have been British pilgrims celebrating it at its earliest time. Given his blank expression, she could see he was being genuine. "Wow, you guys are really clueless to how much you've fucked up the world. Have you heard of India by chance? Do you know what apartheid is? The Middle Passage?" While his original question was genuine, he didn't like being made to seem like an idiot, and as most who were direct descendants of imperialists and colonizers, he grew uncomfortable at the reminder of such a global legacy. As such, he figured it was best not inquire on what The Middle Passage was.

"If I can be honest, I'm genuinely worried about you two. Roman, I'll get to you in a second but Cara," she said softly as she turned to her friend. She reached her hands out and took Cara's in hers. "You're tall and beautiful and rich and I love you, but sometimes you remind people that they are short and ugly and have an acute awareness of the value of money which sometimes makes people feel bad. I'm letting you know now that everyone except maybe one person who comes to this party is several tax brackets below you. So let's practice how to talk to people who will be paying student loans until they are 46." Chanel wasn't intending to be condescending, plus she was being a little silly. She was serious that was concerned how well Cara would do in this kind of environment. She saw Cara as a no bullshit kind of dater and tonight didn't seem like the kind of night where she could convince her that enter a slightly hypogamous relationship wouldn't kill her. This was just fun but even Chanel knew that Cara had a habit of treating people how they saw them. "Which actually reminds me of a conversation I need to have with you about my student loans, but that can be later. So let's say you're talking to Chip. He's 5'11, a Communications major at The City College of New York and he works as a waiter at some trendy sushi place or whatever." Chanel could only speak for herself, but she knew her friends wouldn't be as lackluster as Chip, but perhaps setting Cara's expectations low enough would make the actual pool of applicants seem better than they are. Her attention momentarily directed to Roman when he snorted under his breath before turning away. "Ignore him. I just really need to make sure you're not going to make anyone cry, so how are we gonna navigate Chip?"

lauren. · Aug 31, 2019

"We're going to say 'Hi Chip, how are you?'" Cara began, before tilting her head backwards and downing the shot. It didn't burn as badly as her face would have led one to believe, but just the mere mention of tequila made her think the worst. She normally only drank "good" liquor, but she doubted that anyone on the planet who drank alcohol had ever not had at least one rough night involving tequila that led them to feel impartially negative about the alcohol. That wasn't to say that Cara disliked it as a whole, because she didn't. Tequila was the go-to drink for a fun night. It just never went down smoothly to her, regardless of the brand, and she was aware that that was possibly linked to her own psychological affiliations with the liquor rather than the taste itself. As she shook the grimace off of her face, she replaced it with a smile, as her eyes focused on another small Solo cup that she had moved her hand to hold onto. She wasn't sure if she wanted to take it just yet, but Chanel's reminder that the people she would be socializing with tonight weren't really her 'type' made her consider it.

While it was probably hard to believe, Cara wasn't as ridiculously insensitive towards people as she sometimes acted. She could hold a conversation with someone who was different than her without coming across as being a condescending bitch if she wanted to. Tonight would probably qualify as one of those nights that she would but on her best act, simply because she assumed that even if Chanel's friends weren't entirely similar to her own friends, they were still going to be decent enough to be good company. That didn't stop her from playing with the idea of living up to Chanel's worst expectations though, simply for the fun of it. "And then we're going to say, 'Chanel has said so many great things about you! I don't know how someone who isn't even guaranteed minimum wage could still be on the market, but here we are, so I guess it's my lucky day. Cheers to that!'" Though she was still in pretend-conversation-mode, she didn't pretend when she raised the second shot in the air as if she were really cheering, and then downing it. Again, it didn't taste so good, but Cara wasn't planning on getting grossly drunk tonight. Two shots was going to be a good enough fast start, and she would try to pace herself for the rest of the night.

She smiled at Chanel, though she couldn't resist rolling her eyes, too. "You don't need to worry about me. Definitely focus on him being mean to people," she said, nodding her head towards Roman. "I can be nice," she continued, though ironically, it came out with a tone that suggested a hint of self-doubt, as if she was trying to convince herself of that just as much as she was trying to convince Chanel. "And if anything, I feel like I should be worried about them judging me. It's always the Ugly Bettys that try to start problems... jealous and miserable about their own pathetic little lives, and the horrendous genes that they have that will nearly be sinful to pass on to the next generation. Don't act like you don't know it's true," she said, before motioning at Chanel's own physique to remind her that she was just as tall and beautiful as Cara. Surely she had experienced those same lower-than-average looking girls who had mouths and egos too big for their own good. "And with that in mind, I hope he's not inviting any of his friends," she said, motioning towards Roman again, though she purposely spoke loudly enough for him to hear. "I'm sure that type would just destroy the ambiance in a heartbeat."

cure · Aug 31, 2019

While Chanel was concerned that Cara would misbehave at a comparatively subpar group of people than she was used to fraternizing with, she couldn't resist a laugh at the girl's sassy and inappropriate response to their pretend conversation. "You were doing good!" she exclaimed, trying to chastise her through her giggles and surprise. It was truly amazing and impressive to Chanel how quickly she could shoot snide remarks as if it was second nature and her shocked expression at Cara's words always spoke to that. When she wasn't being over the top, it could be quite funny, like now. After Cara's unconvincing claim that she could be nice, Chanel pointed her fingers towards her eyes and then to Cara to indicate that she was watching her. It was until just now at Cara's mentioning that realized she had never told Roman that he was welcome to invite people. She supposed she couldn't give him permission on who to bring into his own home, but that wasn't the reason she hadn't assured him. It had just sort of slipped her mind. She didn't strike him as a social person, which certainly wasn't a reach. She only ever saw him with the same two people if he wasn't by himself. For all she knew, he lived life as a hermit, hibernating in his apartment and only leaving when absolutely necessary. Despite trying to rationalize that Roman probably wasn't this mysterious, asocial enigma, his next comment kind of confirmed her assumptions.

"Funny of you to assume I have any friends," he said crisply. For those that were used to interacting with him, it would have been easy to tell that he was just bantering despite his dry tone. There a very slight lightness to his voice, but it wasn't unmistakably playful and he could tell that that thin line had taken Chanel for a loop just from her expression alone. He wasn't surprised, but he also wasn't concerned over Chanel misinterpreting his communication style. He and Cara were known for being at each other's throats, but he figured Cara would be able to tell he was picking at her just as much as she was with him. It was easier for Cara to get away with being jestfully snide towards him without raising any brows, but Roman didn't want to be too evidently playful on his end. On top of that, he was just generally quieter and shyer around highly extroverted people and people he didn't know well, of which Chanel was both. He liked testing his boundaries with Cara, but he wasn't going to do that right in front of Chanel.

"Well, Brooklyn's probably coming, right?" To Chanel, it was certainly awkward to blatantly state that you were friendless. His weird statement fell right in line with her perception of him being totally socially clueless. She wasn't close enough to Roman to be able to pick up on the subtle nuances of the way he communicated with people. So it was nearly impossible to tell when he was being inflammatory, like now and earlier, or when he was being socially inept. Right now it seemed he was on the latter which was why she tried offering a friendly reminder that he wasn't totally friendless. It seemed that Cara was right though. He was definitely more of a concern that Cara was.

"She's not my friend." This was exactly why Roman was perceived as being an asocial hermit. He could be charming in his own right when he wanted to. He could even be kind. Before all, though, he was shy and uncomfortable with being uncomfortable and out of control. Mitigating that by being heavily guarded and closed off returned that control, thereby relieving the discomfort he felt and placing it on the other person, like now with Chanel. Though currently he wasn't doing this as a coping mechanism; he was just being an asshole which also made it difficult to make friends. It wasn't completely fool proof, evident from his closeness with Brooklyn and Nick, and even his budding situationship with Cara, but this was one of the areas where he was fine with not being completely perfect. Setting the bottle of tequila on the island, he turned to face the girls, leaning against the countertop as he observed Chanel's expression. He turned to Cara and nodded back towards Chanel. "She's not very good at taking a joke."

"I can take a joke. You're just not funny," Chanel shot back as she checked her phone to see what time it was. She really needed to get some food set up, even if it was just a little bit to start. She knew there were snacks back at her place, and that seemed like a good enough substitute until she figured something else out. If it came to it, which it probably would, she would just order a few pizzas and call it a day, but she still wanted to have something for people to chew in as guests rolled in. She patted her front and back pocket for her keys as she looked at Roman. "But you have about ten minutes to practice, so Cara take the lead and maybe someone help stick these up somewhere." She slid a plastic bag of decorations that she hadn't gotten across the counter towards them. It was various strings of hearts that were notably corny, and she knew it, but they were cheap and it got the point across. "I'll be back in two seconds. Please do not kill each other." After a couple of seconds she was unlocking her door and stepping into her apartment. Given that they had been there for a while, she wasn't surprised to see Brooklyn and Holly when she entered. "Holly, you aren't sleepy yet?" Just as Holly was an early bird, she was also an early sleeper. Chanel had never had to deal with Holly blabbering and bouncing around at midnight. She didn't know that anything was going on with Makayla, and figured Brooklyn was just babysitting until Makayla got back from work or wherever. It certainly wasn't anything that would raise any red flags for Chanel. She hoped Makayla relieved Brooklyn soon. She figured Brooklyn was the only one who could manage to have Roman act like a normal person. She still wanted to confirm that the girl was indeed coming for her own peace of mind. She rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and looked back towards the blonde. "When you're done here, you're coming to babysit your boy, right?"

"I'm not sure why your friend thinks I'm participating in any of this." Even outside of the thought of having a bunch of strangers in his apartment making him want to hide in his room, speed dating, whether serious or not, sounded embarrassing. He was definitely thinking it was way deeper than it actually was, but at the heart of it was still having conversations with a lot of random people, which was a nightmare as good as any to Roman. When he checked his phone and saw the text from Brooklyn, it only confirmed that he would be far from these festivities if he could help it. Roman wasn't surprised that Chanel had extended the invite to Brooklyn since she seemed to invite all of Manhattan, but he didn't think Brooklyn was actually coming to something this corny. An even better place to stake out than his place would be hers, and if coke was on the menu it certainly made things more enticing. He really had no interest in drinking and still hesitant on his usual vice, but he was tired of being sober. Not being dulled out in some capacity seemed like it would be a good thing, but it was so foreign to Roman for it to be any other way, and for so long at that. Honestly, he kind of hated it. He didn't like how present he was, how cold the floor was when he got out of the shower, how tight his stomach felt when he was hungry. It had been a while since he'd had cocaine, and a foreign but familiar high actually sounded pretty nice. With his phone in one hand, he responded to Brooklyn's text, and with the other he pulled the bag off the counter and handed it to Cara. "Here. You should make yourself useful since you're staying."

To: Brooklyn
let's some find some if you don't have any

BurningBridges · Aug 31, 2019

"What kind of stuff do you have to do?" Holly had gotten to her feet just after Brooklyn had. She had become comfortable with staying home alone in the more recent months, since her typical outings with Cara had essentially been cut down to being limited to non-existent, but it didn't mean that she liked it. It was no secret that Holly was a social creature by nature, and she didn't like to be alone. There was only so much that she could do to entertain herself without having someone to talk to and while she normally occupied herself on those occasions by watching television or playing on her iPad, it was the only option she had. Makayla would be gone, and she had lived with Chanel for long enough by now that it was ingrained into her brain that she wasn't allowed to bother her, or else she was going to move out. Chanel had her own life and her own friends and deserved her own space. That didn't mean that Holly always remembered all of that whenever she smelled a nice candle scent coming from Chanel's room, or when the girl brought over friends who were wearing clothes that reminded Holly of something she had seen in a movie, but to her credit, she was typically pretty good about not bothering Chanel when Makayla wasn't home. Ruby was newer and therefore a bit more interesting, and the fact that they shared a bathroom with her made Holly feel like she was "allowed" to interact with her more when Makayla wasn't home, even if she was given those same warnings as she was with Chanel. Ruby wasn't home right now, and neither was Chanel though, so Holly was faced with either hanging out with herself until she could fall asleep (which, admittedly, would probably be soon), or clinging to Brooklyn until she was forced to abandon it.

Brooklyn didn't think of herself as being a mean person, but she didn't like the idea of being a nice person either. She preferred being cold and unattached. Being soft and warm just meant being vulnerable to her, and the benefits of being that weight didn't even slightly outweigh the negatives that came with it. She had experienced pain, and suffering, and being let down enough for her to decide that it was safer to abandon that. If the options were to let people hurt you, or hurt them before they could hurt you, she was going to choose the latter. There were people who she was generally kinder towards, and Holly probably did qualify as being one of them, but even with those people, Brooklyn often tried to correct that behavior. It wasn't necessarily meant as a message towards them, so much as it was one towards herself - an internal warning, of sorts. That was why her behavior was sometimes unpredictable, and her mood could shift quickly for no apparent reason -- it usually came from her realizing that she was being too sensitive or open or soft, and it made her uncomfortable, so she jumped to the opposite end of the spectrum to correct the behavior. It was an easy way to ruin relationships with people who either didn't know that this was typical of her, or had no reason to like her enough to deal with that, and Brooklyn was aware of that. She just told herself that it was better that way anyway. That was the point of being an asshole, to ward people off, she convinced herself. "I'm going to a party that you're not invited to," she answered casually and callously, stepping closer to the door to glance at her reflection in a mirror on the wall. "Everyone on the floor wanted one night of peace-and-quiet, don't-have-to-hear Holly's-annoying-fucking-voice-going-on-and-on-about-dogs kind of fun, so go to bed and don't ruin it for us, kay?"

It took Holly a good ten seconds of silence after Brooklyn had insulted her to really process that what she was saying was an insult, and the moment she understood it was clear as her face turned from curious to an expressive frown. "No it's not," she objected, though it was evident in her tone that she was more hurt than feeling truly argumentative. "It's a party for people who are old enough to be in college," she insisted, as that was what Makayla had told her when Chanel had brought it up a few days ago. Holly had accepted that as being true and fair. She had enough history with drugs and alcohol in her life that the idea of being at a party where lots of strangers were going to be drinking alcohol made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, so she had been okay with not going, despite how social she typically was. Makayla had told her that it was only going to be people who were older than her, who wanted to drink and date other people, and Holly didn't want any part in that, so she hadn't felt offended or like she was missing out. "So I don't want you to say stuff like that because it's not nice, and it's not true, and it hurts my feelings, okay?" she concluded, following Brooklyn towards the doorway. Her eyes seemed big enough to be on the verge of spilling tears, and her tone spoke to how she was on the verge of getting overly upset, but Holly was typically quite optimistic, so even now she was still able to convince herself that Brooklyn was simply misspeaking.

Brooklyn knew that there was no need to be this way, but again, sometimes she purposely went too far. Holly was a sweet and innocent little thing, but right now she was collateral in Brooklyn's war against herself and her past demons. It wasn't fair, but life wasn't fair either, and even though Brooklyn had the sense that Holly had lived a life that taught her that already, for some reason she felt like she didn't need to make that lesson any less obvious. "Welcome to the real world, kid," she said, smiling only at her phone as that was what her attention turned to once Roman texted her back. She led Holly back into the kitchen, her eyes focused on her phone, as she texted Roman back.

To: Roman
I have as a last resort but would rather use someone elses. Think Chanel/Collin/Cara use?

She looked back at Holly after sending the text, and though the puppy-dog look she was getting made it hard to keep up the tough guy act, Brooklyn was never one for backing down. She didn't even falter in her attitude when Chanel came in, chipper as always, and asking about whether she was coming over to take care of Roman. "In the real world, no one cares about anyone else's feelings, or whether they were dropped on their head as a baby, or if they're sixteen and take ten minutes to figure out what five plus five is. People aren't nice, and your sister is doing you a disservice by letting you think that they are," she concluded to Holly, before answering Chanel. "As long as you're providing the alcohol and coke, I'll be there," she responded in a tone that was peppy enough to borderline being sarcastic. "Just gonna load her up with Benadryl beforehand to avoid any interruptions, and then I'll be over there. Where do you guys keep the meds around here?"

lauren. · Aug 31, 2019

Ruby didn't think of herself as being very romantic, but she believed in love. She didn't have any big, bold, or emotional "coming out" story like many people in the community did, but maybe that was also because she still wasn't fully "out". Her family was still content in believing that she was straight, simply too focused on her career to settle down yet, and admittedly, Ruby was okay with them believing that. She didn't think that she was going to be banished from the family for being gay, but her parents were conservative Catholics, and she also didn't think that they would be undoubtedly supportive, either. It was easier to pretend that she was straight since that was default, and live her life how she chose otherwise. Of course she knew that she would have to tell them eventually, but she had felt that way for years and the right time had just never presented itself. It didn't stop her from dating girls, but keeping her relationships a secret from her parents obviously prevented those relationships from getting very serious. Given that, she hadn't been in a serious relationship in a while. Work did get in the way sometimes, but at the center of it, the problem was her own issues with intimacy and commitment.

The girl that she had been seeing for a few months now casually was great. Emma was an artist who lived in Brooklyn. She was spontaneous, funny, creative, free-spirited, and open... everything that Ruby wasn't. She was so kind and strong at the same time, and Ruby envied the way that she was able to just go with the flow of things without ever really planning anything out in advance. She didn't worry about money, or her career, or the way that people would remember her in ten years. She just lived in the moment, and lived so freely at that. The two girls complimented each other so well, and yet Ruby still always found reasons to cancel their dates or keep things going at a slow and casual pace. She was scared of getting close and she knew it, but she was also scared of Emma finding someone who was ready for something real and moving on, and that second concern wasn't far-fetched. Emma had tried to have that sort of serious conversation with her a few times, and Ruby always avoided it, but today at dinner she had admitted that she really liked Ruby and wanted to be with her, and that if Ruby wasn't ready for that, that it was okay, but that maybe it was better if they stopped wasting each other's time. As she seemed to be growing ever so good at doing, Ruby had managed to change the subject without giving any definite response, but by now, she was aware of how Emma probably took that as being a response in itself.

Why she couldn't just be open, and honest, and give this a chance, she didn't even know herself. She had fun with Emma and really did like her, but relationships were complicated and scary and even if Ruby could offer great advice to other people, it felt impossible to offer herself any sort of direction.

Even with that awkward conversation occurring, they still managed to have a nice dinner. The plan was to attend a party that one of Emma's friends was hosting in a warehouse in Brooklyn after dinner, but after a couple of glasses of wine, Ruby insisted that they go back to her apartment. They could go to the party after, but Ruby wanted at least a little bit of time alone and in private with the girl that she was certain she was going to lose in the next few weeks due to her own issues.

While she didn't get drunk often, Ruby did enjoy the feeling. Both girls were drunk and giggly by the time that they reached Ruby's apartment, just a minute or so after Chanel had returned from Roman's. It had to have been the alcohol in her system, but Ruby was surprised to find the apartment occupied when she unlocked the door. It wasn't as late as she thought it was, and she was used to Holly being asleep early (and Brooklyn not being there), so she was admittedly caught off guard a little bit. The way that she quickly pulled her hand out of Emma's grasp at the sight of the others spoke to that, and she knew that it probably wasn't reassuring to Emma, regarding her seriousness of feelings, when she did that, but it was instinctive. "Hey," she said, smiling at the three girls and attempting to recover from the surprise as she stepped inside and ushered Emma in too. She was unaware of the tension that existed in the space (maybe another indication of her intoxication), as she continued. "This is my friend, Emma, and Emma, this is Holly and Chanel, two of my roommates, and Brooklyn, who lives across the hall." While quick and forced, introductions seemed necessary and polite as they entered the space. She flashed an apologetic glance towards Emma, though she didn't know if the girl would really interpret it in the way that she intended, before looking back towards the others. "How's your party going?" she asked Chanel as she slid her shoes off, leaving them by the door. She knew that Chanel was hosting something from conversations earlier in the week, but wasn't sure whether her not actually being at said party was a bad sign, since she didn't realize it hadn't started yet.

cure · Aug 31, 2019

Chanel knew that Brooklyn could be mean and that she wasn't very doting with Holly, but she also knew that Holly adored her and no one would have adoration for someone that treated them poorly. If Brooklyn really hated Holly, she wouldn't be here with her now. She wasn't sure if that benefit of the doubt was the cause of her surprise at how she was speaking to Holly or if it was simply the shock of anyone being mean to Holly. It went without saying that Holly wasn't the average teenager. Mentally, she behaved more like a child than a teenager. Only assholes were mean to kids, and only worse-than-assholes were mean to Holly. Chanel wasn't perfect, but she was human and got annoyed with Holly at times because the girl could be overwhelming, but that didn't mean Chanel could just talk to her any kind of way. They were disgusting words to say to anyone, but directing that energy to Holly truly had Chanel dumbfounded and so she stared with her mouth hanging open for a couple of seconds before closing the cabinet door with more force than necessary. "Oh, my god. What the hell is your problem?" She was only a couple of paces towards the two girls when Ruby came in with an unfamiliar face. The interruption only made her angrier, especially because there was a stranger and so Chanel had to be even more mindful of what she said and did. It wasn't like Chanel was in the middle of crossing the kitchen to yank Brooklyn by the hair and start beating her. She was quiet for a second, staring at Brooklyn with a tight jaw as she debated how to chastise her without turning things into a production and making things awkward for Ruby and her friend.

She switched her gaze to Ruby momentarily, trying to loosen her face as she forced a brief smile in Emma's direction. "It hasn't started yet. I was actually just here getting snacks since catering cancelled. You and your friend are welcome to head over or stay here, but you," she looked back at Brooklyn. Chanel wasn't trying to be intimidating for the sake of being intimidating or to prove a point. Whether she came across that way or not, she couldn't bring herself to care. She was being direct and straightforward out of kindness and not spite because every cell in her body was looking to curse the blonde out. Holly was also standing right there, and there was no need to get the girl hyped up and freaked out. "Need to get out of my apartment. Like right now. You wouldn't run your mouth like that if Makayla was here, so I hope you keep that same energy when she gets back and hears how you're speaking to her sister." Speaking of energy, that was all she was going to give Brooklyn because even that was too generous. She moved from where she stood and went over to Holly, wrapping an arm around the girl. "C'mon, Holly. You know none of that stuff is true. You can help me bring these snacks to Roman's and then we can go to sleep." It was definitely a pain point to now be taking care of Holly for what would hopefully be fifteen minutes tops, but she wasn't going to hear Brooklyn talk to her like that and go on about her merry way. Especially after talking about medicating the child? Even outside of ignoring such a thing being outside of moral code of conduct, she definitely would have been an accomplice if something happened. As they passed Ruby and Emma, she offered an apologetic smile and mouthed the word 'Sorry.'

Chanel escorted Holly into the kitchen and dropped her arm from around. She would continue this conversation about Brooklyn a little bit later when they were alone. She just wanted to confirm that this wasn't an ongoing issue, because if it was she would need to coordinate with Makayla to ensure she could beat her ass without going to jail. What the hell was going on with this floor this month? First Nick and now Brooklyn. Brooklyn's outburst seemed to explain how her and Nick stayed together so long. Down low crazy attracted down low crazy. "Okay, let's shake that negative energy off," Chanel said, trying to be more cheerful though it was certainly a challenge because her heart was still racy from the rush of adrenaline. Raising her arms in front of her, she shook them along with her legs, purposely trying to be silly so that maybe it would bring a smile to Holly's face, even if it was a sad one. She opened the cabinet once more. "So what snacks should we bring?" Looking into the cabinet more seriously now, she realized that her snacks probably weren't the snack of choice when it came to entertaining. The cashew apricot date & nut bites she was staring at, while delicious with a cup of tea and a Netflix original, not the best choice for a party. Wow, this is slightly really pathetic, she thought to herself. "Now I see what you mean when you call my food gross, Hols."

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