/ moving mountains.

Abby’s brows raised slightly, amused at the thought of this being an elaborately planned ruse. “Must be one hell of a haul in there if you truly devised a plan so airtight that it rightfully relied on someone with lock-picking knowledge to walk by and become an unwitting accessory. If that’s the case, you deserve it,” she countered with a sly wink and charming grin. Helpful but not naive, she felt confident that she was not, in fact, becoming an accessory, so she continued in her aid.

She hadn’t realized her precarious position until her counterpart offered to alleviate her of the full pot. Using one hand and her teeth to bend the pins into the necessary tools, the other arm steadied the pot upon her thigh, her foot resting on the wall to prop her leg into its bent position. Glancing at the pot, she let out a soft, sheepish laugh. “Uh, yeah, that would be appreciated,” she accepted, delicately maneuvering the vessel into the other’s arms to prevent any soup loss. She wordlessly used the tools she had fashioned to slide the pins into position, an excited smirk finding her expression as she stood up and opened the door. After peering into the apartment, she turned to the other, recognition of her apparent in her green eyes. “I know this is yours because I’ve definitely gotten way too drunk here before. I’m Abby”.

“Well, when you put it that way, then this plan sounds way more complex than it needs to be. But maybe my seventeen years of training with the a criminal organization intended for me to do it this way,” she continued with the joke, adding more information to further her theatrics. “I’ll let the crime lord know you’re helping me with this in mind. He’ll promote you for sure,” she promised with a lighthearted laugh to indicate she was only teasing. 

Cautious, she took the pot from the girl, hugging with her arms and supporting it against her chest. “Shit, this smells really good,” she exclaimed, enjoying that the scent was rushing up into her nose. As Abby was able to get the door to open, Bryn sighed in relief. “I feel like I should question how you’re so good at this,” she brought up with a raise eyebrow, especially after watching her meticulously rearrange the tools’ physical state to get the door to open. At Abby’s comment, a brisk laugh rang from her lips. “I’m glad this apartment has established its reputation around here. Nice to meet you Abby. I’m Bryn, and you’re always welcome to keep coming here to get drunk. And since you clearly know how to break in, I give you permission to enter even without my presence here.” 

After her initial greeting, if one could call it that, Cleo peered beyond Kai’s shoulder, hoping a brief glimpse around the apartment would clue her into the number of occupants. Catching him with a bedmate wouldn’t be outside of the realm of possibility, but the prospect of walking in on Kai, though unsavory, lacked the sting it carried with Mason. The only companions her search unearthed, though, were empty bottles. Her gaze flicked to him. Drunk? Probably. Perhaps best, too. She wished she was, but not even one-hundred bottles of liquor would be enough to erase the memory of the emptiness she felt when she connected the dots and realized what was happening in Mason’s apartment. Sobriety would keep her mouth shut, accomplishing more than drowning her sorrows could. Another day, Kai’s inquiry would have garnered an uplift, but she could only stand there, bleeding hand still clutching its dish towel bandage, wondering along with him. Why? Moments passed before she could muster up a response, expression vacant as she spoke. “So, I feel like if I talk about it I’ll cry, and this is so not worth the tears. I just…needed someone I feel safe around, someone I can trust, to be with for a bit”. Snapping from her half-there reverie, her eyes met his. “Is that okay?”

So much of what Cleo needed from a place revolved around safety, having a place to be welcomed when things went poorly. Did New York still offer that? The more she stewed on the thought, the more unsure of that she became. Her bed in a common area, she lacked a space that was truly her own, and in the span of mere moments her alternative, the place she had always felt wanted, was obliterated, blown to bits. How quickly she became just the girl with eccentricities Mason simply humored all over again. She was an intruder. Her thoughts rested on that word as she slowly paced into her friend’s apartment. A word she’d never found descriptive of her until this night. It felt dirty. Cleo hated dirty. Chewing on her lip as she zeroed in on that new word, she had half a mind to ask Kai to use his shower and scrub the grime of the night off of herself. As she opened her mouth, though, something caught her eye and she instead found herself saying something entirely different.

“You have a cat”. 

Kai was more focused on her facial expressions and lack of speed of a response to even notice her hand bleeding. His quirked eyebrow indicated confusion of what was going on with Cleo and what sent her to his door. While he wasn’t the most observant person, her expression matched ones that he would find at the bar and immediately knew something was wrong. How heavy his heart felt earlier quickly vanished, feeling with warmth that Cleo could come to his place for someone she ‘trust’ and where she can feel ‘sale.” He nodded in response, wanting to give what she wanted but also what he wanted. If she was to start crying, Kai wouldn’t know what to do. A pat on the head? An offer of a beer? “Yeah, that’s completely fine. Come on in. You can watch the highlights with me, or we can put on a movie,” he suggested, opening the door wider for her to fully enter. It was comforting to also have some company after what he walked into in their apartment earlier and to have someone to sit next to him in silence. He would have sought her out earlier, but he didn’t want to admit that he was having any emotions or reacting to seeing Athena with another person over. Even if the mess in his apartment currently contradicted that. 

His eyes wandered down, finally seeing the dish towel. “Did you fight someone?” he blurted out. “That doesn’t look sanitary. Don’t get blood on my couch.” A million thoughts and scenarios ran through his hand, wondering the story behind her hand being embraced by a towel. “Damn, who got a beating?” he kept asking, not even waiting on further confirmation on if she did or didn’t fight someone. And he would’ve continued inquiring more about it, but her question temporarily stole his attention away from her wound and over to the kitty. “Yeah,” he answered with a soft laugh. “That’s Levi. I brought him over to your apartment to show you guys, but then -- “ he stopped, not wanting to finish the sentence to as why he didn’t introduce her to the kitten earlier.  He spaced out for a second, staring at her with an open mouth except words didn’t come out. The short forgetfulness about that situation that had been consuming him since it happened returned back, reminding him of his anger. Or was it sadness? Jealousy? A mix of emotions that he was unable to untangle and accept -- that’s what it was. “You weren’t there,” he added instead. 

Cleo: lmaoooo

Cleo: did you at least have good company in there?

Cleo: you should come visit. no elevators at my place.

Dev: I was stuck with Abby

Dev: So I don't know if you want to consider that "good company"

Cleo: lol i'm in california still

Cleo: did you get out?

Dev: Yeah hours later

Dev: You suck

“Perfect!” Mia chirped her approval upon her friend’s completion of her arrangement, gliding from behind the counter as Lyle prattled on. Despite the fact that she was the far more outgoing one, Mia felt Lyle was someone she had been given in life to nurture in a way. Though quiet, Mia was typically confident in whatever she was doing in a tranquil and assured manner. As evidenced by the current circumstances, the same couldn’t always be said of Lyle. Theirs was a loving and symbiotic friendship. Mia helped Lyle do new things, Lyle helped Mia meet new people. Barring family, she couldn’t think of anyone she adored more. “I always have the most fun with you,” she said earnestly, offering a warm smile. The blonde reached out and gave her friend’s hand a reassuring squeeze before making her way out of the store, glancing over her shoulder to talk as she moved. “So, tattoos. What of?” Mia asked. “My name on your ass? Ooh, a portrait of me as a tramp stamp!”

Lyle was glad she had someone like Mia in her life. It made living by herself in the apartment bearable. If not for her or Mason, she would’ve felt alone and sad, drowned by schoolwork and her job. Mia also pushed Lyle out of her comfort zone, getting her to partake in activities she would never be involved with. If not for the other blonde, Lyle would have never been able to experience the world and what it provides in the multitude of ways that she has been able  due to Mia’s influence. Lyle clapped her hands together in satisfaction of her arrangement, a grin gracing her lips as Mia’s compliment. A pout formed on her face, one that mimics that she’s about to cry as she felt Mia’s hand around hers. “You’re completely bullshitting me, but I’ll take it,” she retorted back before following her out of the store. “I was thinking of getting one of your face. A scratch and sniff, so when I miss you, I can scratch the tattoo and get your scent.” 

Abby was fine, she thought. Resisting any urge to steal a glance his direction, wanting desperately to gauge his reaction to the situation. Was he as stony faced as she? Unlikely. She could feel the vibrations of his foot tapping against the floor, and she was sure she’d have been able to feel it were she not focused so heavily upon remaining impassive. She felt only mildly guilty about the pride that bubbled inside her imagining her presence having such an effect on him. That pride was countered by the annoyance she felt with the fact that she also wanted to look at him because old habits die hard and he looked damn good. But she was fine. Better than fine. Until she wasn’t.

Perhaps it was the fact that she had grown up in a trailer practically on top of her constantly bickering, or worse, siblings, but she’d never done well with the feeling of being trapped. It wasn’t claustrophobia, per se, but it definitely put her on edge and set her nerves off. Immediately upon the premature stopping of the elevator, her gaze flicked quickly to Dev, her subconscious pleading for him to do something as if he had any control over the situation and was still in a position that would incline him to help her. He offered a perfectly cool quip to nobody, nothing more. Abby laughed nervously in response, a laugh that lasted longer than she intended and sounded a bit more hysteric than she’d have preferred. She composed herself, pinching her eyebrows together in inward judgement as she took in and released a few calming breaths. Which made her feel more trapped? The fact that she was stuck in an elevator or the fact that she was stuck with her ex with whom she wasn’t on good terms. Neither was appeased by the pressing fact that she had somewhere she needed to be… “Fuck,” she uttered, running a clammy hand through her hair as she let the plight set in.

“Shit,” she sighed as she recalled the low battery on her phone, quickly scrolling to a specific contact and hitting the call button without a word to the other in the same predicament. No answer. Abby tipped her head back, letting a long breath through pursed lips as the answering machine gave its spiel. “Hey Athena, Abby here. I’m…in a bit of a predicament and won’t be able to make it to the school today. Hoping you get this in time to go and help out. My phone’s about to die, so if you have any questions call…” she ended the message by rattling off Dev’s phone number from memory, her phone dying as her eyes flicked over to him to see if he shared her surprise. Abby knew herself, that was undeniable, so she had deleted his number from her contacts just days after their breakup to keep from doing anything foolish and impulsive. Silly of her to think she could erase any bit of him from her memory. Not the stupid smirk he wore way too often and the butterflies it would give her. Not any of the conversations they had about their plans and how they differed from their parents. Not the way her body fit perfectly against his as they slept. And not his phone number.

Overwhelmed, back against the elevator wall, she slid into a sitting position. Abby wasn’t fine at all.

As if getting stuck in an elevator wasn’t already bad enough, he was with his ex, one that broke his heart not too long ago. The likelihood of that happening was slim, yet there he was, stuck with Abby in a small space that would soon force conversations and interactions. Dev looked up at the roof of the elevator, hoping that whoever was controlling his simulation could see the glare that decorated his face. His palms pressed against his face, a heavy sigh muffled into his hands before they trailed upwards and around to rub into his temples. He most definitely should have taken the stairs, but a part of him was glad he didn’t. Abby would’ve been stuck alone in the elevator, and slight relief made him relax that he was at least there with her. 

Abby’s laugh finally got Dev to look over at her for the first time since he stepped in, wondering how a laugh could grace her lips in that moment. The multiple curse words that left her mouth didn’t help either, sending Dev into a state of worry of how she was handling the situation. Various scenarios ran through his mind of what could happen and exactly how he would try to handle them, none of which reflected what he was currently doing -- standing there stoically. He finally looked away from her when she began speaking into the phone, not wanting to seem like he was eavesdropping even though he was. He held onto each of her words, for a moment distracted in his own attempt of getting help to fix the elevator. 

His own breath was stolen from him when he finally realized the number that left from Abby’s lips were his number. Her remembrance of it prompted a small smile to grow at the edge of Dev’s lips, satisfaction not hidden from his demeanor. Though it quickly disappeared when he reminded himself of how the relationship had ended. And for a moment, his chest ached. It grew heavy as if a brick was dropped on it, weighing him down with a mix of emotions that he was unable to pick apart. Was it sadness? Regretfulness? Pain? Anger? Whatever it was, it made it difficult for Dev to breathe. He pulled out his phone, finding a method to distract himself from being consumed by the new habitant in his body. Pulling up his last conversation with Cleo, he texted her if she was in building, and if so to get him help with the elevator. He left out the most important part -- Abby -- fully knowing that Cleo would probably find pleasure in that piece of information and delay the savior. Putting his phone away, Dev was again in search for another distraction. The longer he stood there, not wanting to waste his breath on her, the faster he was going to drown in the silence. “So...” Dev started, doing the one thing that stole his pride from him, leaving him naked with vulnerability, “School? You’re teaching?”

Of course this would be the day it decides to pour down rain, James thought as he huddled underneath the roof that barely extended past the door that lead back inside the apartment building. He had decided to go snooping on the roof during one of his visits to see if he could spot any damage or malfunctioning equipment that he may have been to make a case against and get the building shut down. Unfortunately, in the middle of his investigation the grey clouds that had been forming all afternoon let up. He had been pounding on the locked door for several minutes much to his avail. Just as he was about to go see if there was a fire escape he climb down on, the door was opened. “Hello,” he spoke to the person on the other side, smiling innocently as drops of rain trickled down his face.

After 20 minutes of Basil running back and forth in the apartment, demanding for a walk, Lyle gave in. She kept constantly reminding her dog that it was raining and a walk was impossible, but the dog didn’t seem to grow tired. She accepted the option of just walking around with Basil in the apartment building, up and down the stairs, fully prepared for her thighs to burn and collapse within the first ten minutes. However, it only took three minutes before Lyle was running up several floors to keep up with Basil. A noise up a few floors had sparked her dog to bolt off, finding the source of it. By the time Lyle had reached the door to the roof, she was out of breathe and heavily panting. She took a few seconds to catch her breath again, to hide the fact that she was currently in pain from just running up a few floors. That way, she wouldn’t be as embarrassed when she opens the door to let the person on the other side in. “You are so out of shape,” she whispered to herself before picking up her dog and cradling him in her arms. She turned the door handle before pulling the door open, rescuing the person from the rain. Her jaws clenched when she saw who it was, however. Quickly distracted at how he looked wet from the rain with drops trailing down his face, Lyle didn’t say anything. All her thoughts were drowned out by the rough noise of the heavy rain. 

“Goodbye,” she finally greeted back before closing the door to not let him in. As much as she wanted to turn around and leave him there, Lyle knew that guilt would eat her alive for the next three years if she did that. With a heavy sigh, she concluded that a good deed will result in another good deed. Lyle pulled open the door again, keeping her eyes away from him. “Come in.” 

Knuckles rapped loudly on the window as he motioned to the person inside. Cleaning windows was not a good idea on such a hot sweltering day. But he had been waiting so long for a break from the heat, Gabe was starting to believe he would be cleaning windows in the snow if he didn’t act soon. When the person inside opened their window, he smiled as if hanging outside on a scaffold was a normal everyday thing. “I don’t suppose you could spare a bit of water?”

Dev stared blankly at the guy at the window, taking a few seconds to soak in what exactly was happening. He expected some clarification or explanation of what he was doing, but the lack of that startled him. “Yeah... I’ll be right back.” He gave in without further investigation, leaving the window to grab a glass and fill it up close to the rim before walking back to the window. Dev didn’t realized how hot it was after spending the day surrounded by his AC, so when he felt the suffocating warmth as he opened up the window, he appreciated the work the guy was doing. Dev handed the glass of water over. “Keep the glass. So if you faint from heat exhaustion, I can hear the glass break and call you help.” 

Knuckles rapped loudly on the window as he motioned to the person inside. Cleaning windows was not a good idea on such a hot sweltering day. But he had been waiting so long for a break from the heat, Gabe was starting to believe he would be cleaning windows in the snow if he didn’t act soon. When the person inside opened their window, he smiled as if hanging outside on a scaffold was a normal everyday thing. “I don’t suppose you could spare a bit of water?”

Curious eyes lifted up from her journal and fell onto the window where the knocks were coming from. Lucky for Gabe, she was able to see him through the transparent window. If not aware of who was there, the blonde would’ve called for help due to suspicion on who would try to enter from that choice of entrance. Lyle opened the window, greeting him with a wide smile. “People usually enter through the front door, you know? Because this is totally casual.” Sarcasm percolated her words. “Water to drink or water to pour on yourself?” 

James had been on his way to see Lyle, hoping that if he made nice with her for once, she would give him a bit of insight on the situation of the building. He was being pressured by his company to find something, no matter how little, to use against McCallum to force his hand and sell them the land. He was making his way up the stairs, when he had spotted a woman trying to force her way into one of the rooms. He may have been trying to battle the apartment owner in a dirty war with his company, but he wasn’t completely heartless especially when it came to what looked like someone breaking the law. His eyebrows furrowed as he approached her, making no attempt to be discrete. 

“And that’s what makes it suspicious, you could be using the harmless look to your advantage,” he spoke when she had noticed him and explained herself. He pointed to the card, indicating that he was going to take it. He took the card out of the door, and carefully slid it back in. “You have to do it like this, or you would have broken your card.” He bit his lip in focus as he messed with the card for a moment, before turning the knob and pushing the door open slightly. He held the door, making sure he could immediately shut it and lock her back out if needed. “How do I know your really live here?”, he asked as his eyebrows raised in question, not fully believing her. 

“Ah, you caught me,” the girl bit back to his statement, each words staining with exaggeration of theatrics. She handed over the card with ease, standing back up to a poised posture. She carefully watched him, questioning if he was as clueless as she was when opening the door. This consideration was ultimately diminished when the knob turned and the door opened. Her eyes quickly lit up from happiness and relief that she was able to finally get in. She was about to push the door further to get in before that was stopped by the stranger’s grip on the door. “I guess you just have to trust me. Plus, it’s not me that anyone has to worry about. You’re the one that clearly knows how to break into a place,” she referred to his prior act of getting the door opened. “If it brings you relief, you can keep that card. I think it has around seven dollars on it for coffee. A way to say thank you,” she nodded down to the rectangular green piece of plastic tool he used. “Or -- we can pair up, break into the rest of these apartments, and find ourselves rich with gold possessions.” Bryn gently placed a hand on her door, feeling silly that she had to ask for permission to get into her own place. 

@gothamdudes

“Fuck,” Cleo sniffled, wiping her wet cheeks with the backs of her hands. At this point, she wasn’t even actively crying, yet tears managed to fall without regard to that fact. Embarrassed, dejected, and unsure of the future status of her contact with Mason following the events of the night, she made her way to the apartment of the person who could take her mind off anything, hoping desperately that Kai had the night off.

Impromptu visits were a hallmark of their friendship, yet she found herself standing outside of his door searching for a rationale for her visit that wouldn’t warrant pity or anything else too heavy. Tipping her head back in a last ditch effort to clear any stray tears, Cleo took in a deep breath. Those who had seen her cry were an exclusive and scant bunch, and though her friend on the other side of the door was one of her closest on the east coast, she had no intention of initiating him into that elite club. Especially with tears over a fucking guy. Finally settling on something properly snarky that still detailed her consternation, she knocked on the door, but when it opened, the words Please mercy kill me did not find their way out of her mouth. Unable to find any words at all, a pitiful sigh was the only noise she made, tears threatening to spill over yet again.

Usually around this time, Kai would be at work, pouring drinks and smirking at girls who came with a group. Instead, he was lounging on his couch, accompanied by empty beer bottles decorating his coffee table. Rather than paying attention to the basketball highlights on his television, he was more occupied with his own thoughts and mumbling random words to the cat that was perched on his chest. Kai was fully cognizant that he had no right to be upset about what he had witness earlier in Athena’s apartment, but he couldn’t stop the tight feeling in his chest. For a bit of time, he was making up weak excuses to why he felt hurt or upset, playing it off as something else, but the plain truth was that he was jealous. Hypocritical of him to be so as he, too ,found comfort in his nights with other people, but the physical act of seeing someone else with Athena was more painful than the thought of it. It was vivid proof.

“Women sucks,” Kai confessed to his kitten, his words warmed by the smell of beer. An unexpected knock on his door drew his attention away from his choice of companion that night. He sat there, staring at the door for a few seconds wondering who could be on the other side, seeing as how no one had texted him to foreshadow their arrival. For a brief moment, he thought it would be Athena, possibly wishing for an explanation as to why he had stormed out earlier or maybe there to find joy in his reaction. Part of him didn’t want to see her while part of him did, hoping to find some mild satisfaction of seeing her at his door. The knocks had forced him to move from his comfortable spot, sending a groan to leave his lips as he moved his kitten off him and placing him down. He walked to the door, expecting to find Athena on the other side with no idea what he would say to her. Facial features hardened once again, expecting to confront the waves of anger and sadness that was engulfing. However, a sense of warmth and relief settled within him when it was Cleo instead, calming the storm within him. For the first time today, a smile crept onto him face. If there was anyone he would put up with  during his current state, it’d be Cleo. The smile disappeared as fast as it had appeared once he was fully able to make out Cleo and the look she had. Eyebrows creased together in concern. “Why do you look like you just saw the episode of The Red Wedding?” He took a step back, opening the door further to invite her in.

Mia reached across her work station, pulling the papers with the customer’s requests toward her. Chewing on her lip, she scanned the text until she reached the portion she wanted. “Whimsical, but classy. Not too crazy, but nothing incredibly mundane either,” she read verbatim, her eyes flicking to her friend, to the arrangement, and back. She shrugged, unsure if that’s the mood the flowers were capturing. She shoved a handful of small white flowers and green garnish into the waiting grasp of Lyle, trusting the eye of the other to place them properly while she gathered her belongings from behind the counter and notified her boss of her departure. “So,” she mused, lacing her fingers together as she leaned her arms against the surface, “Tattoos. What’s the occasion for the bold departure from your norm?” Mia quirked an eyebrow in jovial question, her friend’s fluster apparent.

The blonde head was tilted to the side as she cautiously processed the description from Mia. Pulled lips and squinted eyes was followed by a nod in confirmation. “So like me!” Lyle concluded before grasping the arrangement and the flowers that Mia handed over. She began crossing the foliage to create a base before playing around with some of the stems and flowers, placing them in various ways to hopefully successfully convey the perfect reflection of the words that Mia had provided for her. Focused eyes did not leave the arrangement even when Mia came back. Tiny fingers rearranged the flowers, rounding out and filling into empty spaces. “I --” Lyle started to answer but abruptly stopped because she wasn’t able to find words to explain her random decision. “Need a change. Something fun and thrilling. Everything’s been too boring and just constant. I want to do something crazy,” she tried to explain but ultimately failed. “I know, I know. Tattoos aren’t that crazy. But it’s crazy for me.” She finally looked up at Mia, her eyes clouded with both fear and excitement. “I can be fun, right?” 

“Thanks again, Mrs. Kaplan!” Abby called behind her shoulder as she walked down the hall, a fresh, steaming pot of matzo ball soup balanced delicately in her arms. In the weeks since learning the grandmother of one of her speech students lived in the building, Abby’s fridge had become its own Jewish delicatessen, her phone ringing weekly to summon her to restock. The woman had made more than enough for just her and her roommate, but she would never tell her so and quell her grandmotherly instincts. Upon reaching the elevator, she fumbled with the large pot, attempting to keep it settled while simultaneously pressing the button. Before she could, though, she caught something out of the corner of her eye and wandered down the hall to observe.

After watching the woman struggle with her technique from a few feet away, Abby cleared her throat gently to draw the other’s attention. She listened to her explanation, a small, amused smirk passing over her features. “Yeah, obviously,” she said in response, “Any burglar worth their salt would know that’s not going to work with this kind of lock. You’re just going to fuck your card up”. She realized the statement sounded incriminating, but it was knowledge from her high school days. That Abby was practically a stranger. “Here,” she said, removing two pins from her bun and fashioning them into the tools she needed. “May I?”

Bryn’s face flushed to a pink color when the word ‘obviously’ greeted her eyes. Embarrassment sat her facial features as she disappointedly looked down at her choice of tool in her hands. Not only did she lock herself out, she also didn’t know how to properly break into her own apartment. She stood back up before fully capturing the stranger’s words. “I can’t say I do this enough to know the correct way of breaking in. At least you believe that I’m not a burglar. Unless it’s all an act,” she whispered the last sentence, the edges of her lips curving up into a playful smile.

With a raised eyebrow, the girl carefully watched what the other was doing and how confident she had appeared when constructing her pins into what she needed. At that moment, Bryn did not question the stranger’s act of helping her. She raised her eyes as a sign of a white flag, giving the other permission to help her get back in. “Oh, please, go ahead. I can grab that for you if it’s easier,” she nodded towards the pot in her arms before reaching out for permission to get that out of the girl’s hands.

Abby was running late. It was a routine incidence days she went to both the office and the school. Though her presence at the Revival building was seldom required, when it was minimal time was left to get to her students punctually. In theory, she could go right from one to the other, but her manner of dress for one did not suit the other. Abigail Whitmore, the columnist for Revival Magazine, was stylish and pulled together. She wore heels. Abby, the volunteer high school speech coach, decidedly did not. Still stylish enough, she reverted to her preferred and significantly more casual attire when with the teenagers. And so she customarily chose to show up in the final hour, heart pounding and adrenaline racing through her veins. Quickly thumbing notes for her lesson into her near-death phone, she stepped into an empty elevator.

Hold please. Her heart hammered, and not due to the rapid pace at which she was moving. She had grown exceptionally adept when it came to avoiding Dev Parikh, which only made this moment all the more jarring. She had half a mind to let the door close, but he knew her too well. In spite of her shortcomings, Abby was considerate to the core. She wouldn’t let it close for anyone she had no grudge against, and god she didn’t want to look petty, despite the fact that there were still hard feelings. So she stuck an arm out, palms sweaty, her emerald eyes not leaving his face until the moment his own fell upon her, at which moment they promptly fell away. “No problem,” she chirped, her plastered on smile not reaching her eyes. She was aiming for cordiality, a simple elevator ride alongside a stranger.

Dev had a brief second of thought of opening the doors again and just getting out to avoid the entire situation. However, the act itself wouldn’t have presented him in good light or in good behavior. It was also too late when he unconsciously pressed the button with the number 5 engraved in it and watched it light up. Dev immediately diverted his eyes, settling them onto a center spot in the elevator. He placed his entire weight onto his heels, pressing them hard against the ground with the hopes that if he was heavy enough, he’d fall right out of the elevator. By the time it would reach his floor, no spoken words would be necessary and silence would be sufficient enough. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Claustrophobia was never something Dev had, not until that moment at least. The walls were quickly inching in to suffocate him, stealing all the air from his lungs and leaving him to beg for the doors to open to gasp for some life. His foot rapidly tapped against the floor, an attempt to calm himself down and distract himself from the pain that was arising within his chest the second his eyes had fallen on Abby. It was from the flash of memories that unfortunately came as a side product of seeing her and also a casual remembrance of the reasoning why things didn’t work out with them. In that second, he felt as if he was reliving it over again. His anxious state of trying to find air to breathe and finding cause for his lightheadedness was momentarily paused when he realized the elevator had stopped moving and failed to open its doors on the third floor. He curled his lips in, giving the elevator a few seconds to go back to its functionality. “Ah, perfect,” he impulsively whispered as soon as he realized the situation he was currently. The elevator had stopped working and he was stuck with his ex. His past actions started running through his head as Dev dissected each one, wondering which one of his acts was bad enough that karma decided on giving its revenge.

It was rare for Kai to be up this early in the morning, seeing as how he didn’t get home until around four and didn’t have to get up for work until the evening. It also took only a few things that would get him up from his bed, and one happened to be picking up a kitty he found on craigslist. He wasn’t sure what sent him onto the website, looking for anyone who was giving away a cat. It might’ve been the loneliness of living alone and not having anyone to talk to, or the fact that almost everyone was working or asleep when he wanted someone to come over to keep him company in bed. But with the kitty in his arm, he was glad that he decided to go meet up with a stranger that morning.

“Meet Le--” his greeting into Athena’s and Cleo’s apartment was abruptly stopped when he found a male in the middle of the living room, practically half naked. If it wasn’t for the familiar couches, floors, walls, and decor, he would’ve thought he walked into the wrong apartment even though he could find their apartment while drunk and asleep. He wanted it to be nothing more than a guy that Cleo had over for the night, but Kai knew that it wasn’t, especially since it wasn’t Mason. A heaviness weighed down his chest to fall into his stomach, closing his airway so he was unable to form words.  He knew he wasn’t allowed to be mad, but they didn’t stop the glare that graced his face. He wasn’t sure what the proper way to react to this situation.  “Who the fuck are you?” Well, that definitely wasn’t the proper way. Realizing what slipped from his mouth, Kai quickly covered Levi’s ears, a little too late for the cat to unhear the curse word.

“Good going,” she mumbled to herself before throwing everything back in except her wallet. Opening it up, she took a few seconds to decide which card she wasn’t using anymore before pulling it out. Gripping her doorknob, she attempted to replicate what she had seen in movies and have done once or twice in college by sliding the card through the creak of the lock and the wall. A faint sound near her pulled her attention away from her useless attempt of trying to get into her apartment. She looked up, a guilty smile stretching across her face as soft laughs escaped from her curved lips. “I swear, it’s not what it looks like. This is my apartment. I mean, look at me. I’d be a harmless burglar.”