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"seriously, though... are you okay? i think i felt it from all the way over there. obviously not got my car but i can try get you to an emergency room if you need it. in terms of pride though, i can't do much but i can pretend i didn't see anything. how does that sound, huh?" the woman wasn't sure why she was deciding to be so playful, perhaps it was that she was mid activity so felt much more energised and engaged than she would be at any other time.

things seemed seemingly distant as her calves had hit the burning stage but she was pushing through until... bang! someone had crashed into someone else. "little fucker." the woman mumbled under her breath as she caught her breath and nodded to the other. "of course." her breath was still short as she approached the other and put out her hand.

Drake would be remiss to say he wasn't shitting himself since the wedding had drawn to a close, already scrambling from one possibility to the next in search of a replacement to his work. He could go back to the ranks, hope for a caporegime spot one day, or a right hand of responsibilities from William Weiss — bodyguarding had been his last decade of work, on the other hand, and he was reasonably comfortable with a charge whose habits he had grown familiar with as the years changed and seasons passed. People were immutable as they were evolving, and as old habits tapered off, telltale signs and interests crawled out from beneath the rubble, and Romi had transmuted from an unrecognizable wretch to a confused young woman and fallen back to the cauldron beyond his reach again. A few years of progress once out of prison had been snuffed in one fell swoop, but life had to persist — Drake hadn't canceled plans with his old flame, plans that Kaia had been aware of for weeks now, and he'd mentioned he would look for extra work. Perhaps Zuzanna could be in need of a loan shark, or her own services could be rendered and recommended by Drake Hawkins and it would grant him a cornucopia of job security until he could situate himself with a dirty socialite or protecting another familial member. Unfortunately, a short stack and strawberries was about all he could afford until then, alongside a cup of black coffee that was already turning lukewarm by the time his ex-fiancée had walked through the door and found him among the elderly morning crowd. "Hey. Trouble finding parking? Don't worry, I already asked for your usual. It's still the Grand Slam, right? Scrambled eggs, no white toast."

it had been a while since zuzanna had seen drake and if she were to be honest with herself, she didn't understand why she was going to this so-called meeting to begin with seen as she felt strange about it. feelings lingered and that meant that her head wasn't clear - it was why the accountant had cycled to this appointment instead of driving or getting a taxi. zuzanna seemed to keep herself distracted in some form of exercise because if her legs hurt, there was no room for the hurt in side to even be noted. brushing her hair out of her face as she entered, zuzanna sighed. "cycled here, actually. it's pretty quick." there was some sort of rush the ex front woman got from cycling a bit too fast - it scared her and she liked it. there had been so much adrenaline in her in her younger years that she was now trying to get to the feeling but nothing even came close. "didn't you hear? i actually ran a marathon, so that's a real shocker, right?" the woman laughed before quickly moving on as the embarrassment quickly set in - what was she trying to prove to drake? they could have had a life together and she'd purposefully blown it. zuzanna knew that she'd been insufferable, she'd tried to be like that so drake would leave her but it went on and on until it finally happened and it all set in - she'd really blown it. realising she'd been somewhat stand-offish, the woman smiled and nodded towards the plate. "thank you." sitting down, she raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her knees. "so... what's new?"

For Duck-young, March 20th was like any other day. Get up, take every medication indicated for the morning in his pill box, get ready for seminars, study, study, study, leave campus exceptionally late and catch the bus home, and walk the couple blocks to the radio station for the late afternoon to evening shift. Commercial breaks, switching to news feed about the wedding and the impatient wait for the speech at city hall, and back to the music. He had penciled in an interview with an accountant who had once moonlighted as a real hotshot in the world of rock'n'roll after dinnertime, working with her busy schedule to ensure it was in the bag. When he heard the elevator rumble and ding down the hall, he walked with deft intentions to meet the blonde, and greeted her with a winsome grin that was all gums and buck teeth. "Thank you for meeting me, Zuzanna. Do you want to go over how I'll run the interview before we put you on the air? I have coffee in the break room if you'd care for a cup, too." There was nothing too formal about the way that he met her — his hand didn't tremble when he shook hers because of the nerves, as it did the side effects of the anti-seizure medications. Once married to a rising starlet, every musician had morphed from shimmering pedestal to person — he wasn't the starry-eyed carney that looked up to big shots like David Bowie and Joan Jett like they hung the stars in the sky anymore. They weren't aspiring to be mobbed by the flashing of cameras and journalists digging up dirt on them at every turn. "I'd love to know a little more about what you do now, as well. Maybe the people of Las Vegas should know there's life after hitting the jackpot, huh?"

there was a part of zuzanna that truly missed her old life on stage, a big part, however, she knew that she'd never be able to go back. the ex front woman had never got over what had happened - had pushed it down so deep that she had forced herself into the life of mediocracy - the life of the white collar accountant. whilst she had always been good with numbers, it had always been a job of the side that was required, not a livelihood. still, zuzanna dybala had done well as she always did but she would always be longing for something more for herself. she'd always manage to implode that same more she craved through self destruction - would she ever just let herself be happy or had she always needed a struggle to keep her motivated? lamenting on her 'old' life more and more, zuzanna had agreed to do an interview for the local radio station - she wasn't sure why as she was still sensitive to the past but it was something to do and would perhaps serve her in a cathartic way. her brow raised with enthusiasm when her favourite hot beverage was mentioned. "oh, yes please! will definitely take you up on that offer." the woman had been running on that since 5am (she'd always start with a black coffee to shock her system before embarking on her morning run down the strip). "yeah." her response to her life now was met with less enthusiasm than before. "do you have some talking points you wanted to cover?" was that the control freak in her? perhaps it was.

there was always going to be something missing from her life as zuzanna dybala lived her left as normally as possible. there had been a time when she had felt such a rush, when she'd be on the road performing for months, having fun (though some would argue too much and that was the reason why things had gone south fast). now, her life revolved around only figures and data management. the woman was organised when it came to that, she always had been and whilst she wanted more for herself, it was unlikely that was possible unless she was willing to blow stability away. she had vowed to herself that she'd be disciplined, keep a quiet life but it was very much the notion of 'just get on with it'. raising her eyebrows towards the other. "yeah, alright. in that case, double vodka tonic, please. thanks." it wasn't that she was necessarily taken back by the other's forthright nature, more that she just wasn't expecting it. "yeah, i suppose so. i've been here for years actually but it still feels a little strange... this place has character, though. reminds me a lot of the places i used to go back in my youthful days." there was no sense of belonging, no ties keeping her here and if she ever wanted to leave, she could do so within a couple of hours. it was zuzanna's choice to be alone but she was not exempt from the feeling of loneliness.

"you know, some of us just like to feel alive, okay?" there was a frustration and confusion in her voice, mainly because the accountant couldn't understand why the other seemed so confrontational. "never been much of a jazz fan but i can enjoy it every once in a while." whenever she was there, she felt like an imposter but maybe that was her all of the time as she had decided to get rid of any risk in her life and be a tamed, respected professional (the pure notion of that would have made her past self in her twenties ill).

I'll probably have one or two... You know when your brain does that thing and you're like... Maybe I should see a therapist or something? Yeah, reached that. Honestly, the dark-haired woman wasn't too sure how to respond to this. She could definitely relate to the sentiment, for sure. But after what her children had been through, she saw the benefits of things like therapy, and even medication, if it was a good fit. It was much better than riding it out with your 'coping skills.' Khadroma knew that better than anyone. Nodding, she said "I do know the feeling, believe me. But sometimes, it is worth it to check those sorts of things out, just to see how you might like it. But what do I know?" She certainly wasn't trying to tell other people how to live their lives, that was for sure.

"look, not going to hold anything against you or anything, can't choose where we were born or who our family is but somehow, i got a lot in that department-" zuzanna would forever be appreciative of her eldest sibling that had helped her beyond believe. "- but yeah... just not much has happened, i guess. you start stirring... or maybe i just do it because there's no thrill of it all and being in accountancy is really, really boring."

the quiet life had been working for zuzanna so why did she have a gut feeling that it wasn't? her fulfilment levels of life had dropped but the woman was a successful accountant with a stable personal life that included marathon running and renting a movie from blockbuster every friday. "i've been here for a bit but have had my blinkers on. you know, when people look at me, they probably think i'm boring, so it means i've passed at white collar career life, right?" she knew she was already giving too much away with her musing out loud but this type of success had never been what she wanted initially - zuzanna had kept it safe for her own peace of mind. her old life hadn't been sustainable, that trauma had never left her and it had made her quite afraid. raising her brow at the suggestion, zuzanna's eyes widened. "well, you certainly don't mess around. straight to the point... why not?" the woman shrugged looking towards the bartender awaiting to meet their gaze.

Her free hand lifted to point a sharp index finger to the back wall; three rows of low-shelf liquor and fucking moonshine gave away the quality of the establishment. "If you're looking for something good, I recommend you leave." And that's about the friendliest piece of advice Amala could've offered. "Don't try something new. What's your usual?"

"well..." zuzanna sighed. "that's me feckin' told, isn't it?" raising her brow, the woman widened her eyes at the other before leaning back as her arms came up to cross themselves but then paused - body language. she would argue that her retort was met with the same intensity but zuzanna rarely went out yet alone managed to anger anyone... well, that would turn out to be somewhat of a lie as she just wouldn't see the anger as she walked away. still, the woman remained in her seat. "you're not the first to assume that i'm up for tryin' some dodgy shit but maybe i give it off, i don't know. i'd never though because my older sibling would kill me themselves." she let out a chuckle. "well, i suppose vodka but the stuff i've tried out tastes like toilet cleaner so i'd rather, like, a cheap wine or something so i know it's going to be bad and curb my disappointment."

Shrugging, she said "Well, that kind of depends on what you like--sweet? Sour? Vodka? Whiskey? What are you in the mood for?" Vodka was always a tried and true but not everyone agreed with Khadroma on that one.

it wasn't like she actually had a problem - she didn't - but seeing someone she loved dead like that in her early years had really set her back. this wasn't to say she never enjoyed a drink in her own company, it just meant that there were never ending goal post shifts. the drink wasn't his demise but because she'd been doing it heavily and not stopped him, she'd felt responsible. "god..." zuzanna sighed. "i'll probably have one or two... you know when your brain does that thing and you're like... maybe i should see a therapist or something? yeah, reached that."

it took daniela a wink to come up with a drink to recommend — or drinks. she wasn’t one for drinking, but had become more open-minded about it after escaping to vegas. her mind went blank, and so a light-hearted chuckle left her mouth. “honestly, i’m a cocktail kind of girl, however, it all depends on the mood, if you know what i mean.” daniela shared an awkward smile. “my personal favorite’s a moscow mule, but if you want something a little stronger, then i say go for an aperol spritz.” for as long as she has lived in vegas, it was a rare sight to see she had stepped foot in the mean-eyed cat bar. it wasn’t the kind of scene she was comfortable with, to say the least. regardless, daniela was trying to have an enjoyable time for once — she’s only in her early thirties, and maybe acting like a prune wasn’t ideal for her age. a pastry chef could have fun ... right? it was all up to her anyway. “but your comment,” dani pointed her index finger, “it does feel weird to actually live here ‘cause i still haven’t gotten used to living here, honestly.” she took a small sip of her moscow mule, “but no complaints, of course.”

"cocktail girl, huh?" zuzanna chuckled. before the other had sat down, she'd heard the cocktail crowd being called cocktail college girls and the brunette sat beside her was far from that stereotype. "i'm not, i'm afraid. tastes like fruit juice but a moscow mule, that i can do right because it's not got fifty bleeding spirits in it, spirits and sugar are really bad." a chuckle escaped her again. the woman had never given so much chat to beverages and it wasn't really appropriate for an establishment like this but she was going for it. "so, would you like one? can't stand aperol to be honest with you." maybe she was a bit out of practice and already tipsy but she had no meetings tomorrow as it was and could always be decent enough to squeeze one into her afternoon schedule if absolutely necessary. "yeah, i've stayed in a lot of places but actually ended up here and god knows why. it's exciting, feels easy and the short term rent was a blessing when i first moved here, i won't lie." letting out another chuckle, she gazed towards the other and pulled a smile. "i'm zuzanna."

before vegas, zuzanna really hadn't set herself up with a home as she did a fine job of torching any chance of a happy ending for herself. "i'm a city lass, least that's what i think when living here. like the hustle and bustle of it all and obviously, visiting divey bars." the woman chuckled. "you know, i've never had a problem with whiskey, definitely not a 'college girl special' type. if i wanted fruit juice, i'd just get fruit juice with it." chuckling again, her brow furrowed slightly. "work in a club? god, those were the days... i went to some amazing clubs back in the day, in europe... that was a lifetime ago." zuzanna didn't know what had got her so sentimental but she needed to press pause on whatever she was feeling and bring it back. "do you want me to get you a drink? to apologise for me being a sentimental git?"

raising her eyebrows at being called sweetheart, wide eyes looked towards the other but she wasn't going to protest - she'd made the mistake of coming a little too put together so stood out like a sore thumb. "well... thanks." taking the drink that had been gifted to her, zuzanna took a sip. "not bad, not bad. certainly doesn't taste like piss so that's a win in my book. i'll get the next one." there was a slight frown on her face as she looked towards the other, not wanting to pry but curious as to why she was hear if not for a drink. "so, are you an expert on the biker bars around these parts?"

"though most ladies like the cosmopolitans or something equally as fru fru."

"well, now that's where judgemental first impressions go wrong." zuzanna dybala did now dress like, quite frankly, a corporate arsehole, someone with money but that made her feel like some imposter. still, it kept her grounded. "is that what you're wanting, then? jet fuel? can get us a round and if i don't survive it, i'll try a fruit juice." it was a strange way to offer to buy someone a drink but she was bored and intrigued by the individual opposite. she was not yet at the stage where she'd lament over her old life, that of being on tour worldwide and screaming into a microphone.

"Good evening," Sol-ip greeted the old flame like they normally would — gracing her with a darling smile that catered to fans and lovers alike — and their punctuality may have been slightly off on account of becoming turned around in a city that was very much new to them, choosing to walk as it was near to the local theatre rather than hail a cab. Without thinking it over, they gripped her hand and brought it to their lips, polite, succinct, before sinking into a chair across from their companion for the evening. It was a pleasant surprise that Zuzanna had ended up living in Las Vegas, instead of out of boxes like her wandering heart had led her astray many moons ago, but there was a familiarity upon seeing her that they hadn't been graced with since the relocation. "You've done something with your hair, haven't you?" the redhead mused, smiling and opening the menu, "It looks lovely." There was no shortage of an astute set of eyes, as far as the eldest Boo was concerned, removing his gaze from her face to scan the starters, and lowering it when she spoke again. "No, you still know my tastes well. If I can get a nice gourmet meal after rehearsal, you know that's where I'll be. How opposed are you to sharing a bottle of red this evening?"

zuzanna dybala rarely swooned and she would indeed be embarrassed by her current actions if she were a spectator. the greeting kiss on the back of her hand made the corners of her mouth curl up to a slight smirk before she quickly got control over it and sat down again. the person before her was refined, had been nothing like her previous relationships but she'd been highly attracted to them because of that. arrogance was highly irritating but something she endeared if it came from someone she loved. there were residual feelings there - if it weren't for foundation, the woman's face would have been bright red in front of her ex-fiancé. "it's lighter." zuzanna chuckled, leaving out the process of taming her waves - they'd hardly be interested in that. "thank you." she'd take that compliment and run with it. they were here with her after a decade and it seemingly felt the same - perhaps there was a chance... "i'd love some wine, yeah. i'll leave the choice to you." the other certainly knew a lot more about wine. as refined as zuzanna attempted to be, she'd refer to it only by its colour and was quite happy with a spirit or beer. "sorry-" shaking her head, a sigh escaped her. "-if i'm staring, it's just really great to see you, looking well." nodding, her jaw tensed as guilt began to set in.