i'm a girl with a whole lot of baggage

Dory knew she should have stayed on her normal path. But no, she had to have gotten distracted by a beautiful painting displayed at a store. It wasn’t like she was going to buy the painting but it was just screaming at her. But by the time she peeled her eyes away she knew she was lost. So she walked over to the closest person she could find. “Hi….I know this is going to sound stupid…but I’m lost. I normally go the same path to go to the……oh shoot…..Look, I need to get to somewhere, I can’t exactly remember where but I need help….If I could just have some assistance? Please?”

Lizzie was all too familiar with getting lost in her thoughts resulting in getting lost in reality, so when she heard the soft voice she looked over, immediately shaking her head, “No, it’s not stupid at all, don’t say that. This is an awfully big city after all..” she tried to tell her, hoping to help calm her even a little. Her afternoon coffee run could wait- this was more important. “Do you remember where it is you need to go? Maybe we can find it together.”

“You are right there. I think you can’t manage something you don’t really know yourself.” He paused a moment, eyes lighting up at the mere thought of his food. He doubted that she really cared about the intracicious of the food, so settled on a light answer. “It’s fine-dining mostly Greek dishes, but most of them are seafood. That’s my favourite, you see.” He didn’t mind admitting. “Well that sounds like an honourable job either way. Probably a lot more rewarding than working behind a desk, too.”

Lizzie had always been good at reading people and their emotions, so when she saw him light up even just slightly over his food, she could tell just how important it was to him. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever ever really eaten Greek food before? Maybe one day soon I’ll have to go try it. What’s your favorite? or something you think is go-to and I should try?” she asked, figuring he might be at least a little bit happy to keep talking food--specifically his own. She smiled softly at the vague compliment and nodded, “It’s definitely a much better job than being behind a desk. It’s tiring...and sometimes it’s not easy being around people who’re hurt or sick, but..I love it, despite its hardships.”

“Not a chef, really. There’s too much to manage for me to be cooking all the time as well, but I still do when I need to. I think any restaurant or cafe owner should be able to cook the dishes they serve. Most of the recipes are my own anyway.” Her comments on being shouted at didn’t exactly tug any guilt in him. “It’s a very tough industry; shouting is just part of the job, whether you’re doing it or listening to it. It’s so noisy in a kitchen you have to yell to be heard. I assume you work somewhere with less of that then?”

“Okay, so a manager. Still! Pretty cool. And I agree--if someone’s managing anything, they should be able to jump in to any position at a moment’s notice, so in your case? The cooking. What kind of food is it? I’ve never even seen so many different types since moving here, it’s admittedly a bit overwhelming.” Lizzie told him with a little laugh. She figured he had a point about the shouting, even if she still wasn’t a fan of it. But oh well, it was his restaurant, he could do whatever he wanted. “Oh, um. Well, sometimes there’s yelling. I work in a hospital in Manhattan.” she pointed to her scrubs, “Not a doctor or a nurse or anything fancy though. Mostly I help wheel patients around, getting medication and equipment needed, things like that. Before that I was a receptionist, and that? That was boring. I probably could’ve used some yelling then!”

“Always, always.” He huffed an amused breath at her comment. He could relate to that- although he almost never recommended people taking time for themselves. He was a firm believer in working through things, and enforced this idea on his staff and pretty much anyone who asked for his advice. “I wouldn’t say a crazy job, but I know some people might think that. Hell’s Kitchen is more realistic than you might imagine. And some people might compare me too Gordon Ramsey, but better looking with less cooking and more shouting.”

Lizzie gave him a little smile, a little nod in agreement. She found working made things easier. If she was so focused on her job, it gave her less time to focus on herself and all the bad in her life. It made it easier to get through everyday life. “Hell’s Kitchen?” She asked curiously, tilting her head a bit. As he said the name of a famous chef though the lightbulb turned on in her head, recognition practically sparking in her gaze as she grinned, “Oh! Are you a chef then? That’s so cool! Although I’m not too sure about the shouting part. It’s not a nice feeling to be yelled at.” All too often her superiors had to reprimand her for dazing off, especially when she’d first started working here in the city. 

Boo would be lying if she said she was doing good. Her art wasn’t selling as well as it needed to be, the monsters in her head were getting louder and louder, and she had no one to blame but herself. She missed a day or two of medication because she was trying to stay up all night and paint. The monsters were horrible but they were muse…and her normal muse was busy with boys and other life issues. Boo wasn’t the type to demand attention flat-out, it just was given to her once she slipped off the rails a little. And today was no exception. She knew she looked a little insane the way she snatched the sketches she was working on away from prying eyes. And she knew she looked like she was about to cry when she said “Leave me alone….We don’t want you to see these…” but it was too late. Someone was staring and they didn’t look pleased. “I said….go away….”

Lizzie admittedly hadn’t slept much that night, which meant being up far too early for her shift, so coffee was a necessity. Large cup in hand, she was about to head out towards the hospital when she heard someone a bit in distress. She hesitated before turning towards her, a frown on her face as she tentatively walked over. “Hey..it’s okay. I won’t look at them, I promise.” Her tone was soft, gentle, the same she used when she was assigned to the pediatric’s ward. She definitely noticed the girl said we and she bit her lip, more than a little worried. “Are you sure you want to be alone though? Maybe there’s someone I can call for you.”

“I’m a detective, I was more or less going undercover.  Honestly it’s not different than an actor coloring their hair for a part,” Basil said shaking his head.  He was hoping that would quiet the woman and keep her from asking more questions.  “It could turn orange?  How?”

Lizzie opened her mouth but then quickly closed it, not really coming up with a good response to cover her surprise at the fact that she was meeting a real-life detective. It wasn’t til he asked again about his hair that she snapped out of it, blinking a few times before nodding, “Or um..maybe it’s green, not orange. But either way! The bleach in your hair, it’s super finicky. It basically stripped all the color pigments from your hair so it’s fragile. And so if you try another of those box dyes yourself, it could end in disaster that’ll make you feel like you might as well just shave it all off.” she wrinkled her nose a bit as she said it, shaking her head. “Maybe you can look into a salon near where you live and they can help?”

Work. He could relate to that. He took in a deep breath, his head bobbing shortly in agreement. “That sounds very familiar.” Perhaps it was why he had taken the fleeting opportunity to pause for a little while and take a good look at the big blue above- or black as it was quickly turning now. He watched her closely as he spoke, always the type to show he was interested in what whoever the other person talking was saying, even if he wasn’t acttually. She seemed like a harmless enough one, anyway. “Not as much as I probably would like to. I don’t really have time to sit around and watch the world tick by.”

“All work and no play for you too?” Lizzie asked the man with a little smile. He was bigger than her, probably should be intimidating, but maybe Lizzie was just too tired to be scared. Or maybe she wasn’t focusing enough on the part of her brain that should be going off with alarm bells. Either way, here she was, okay to stand in the middle of an empty sidewalk talking to a strange man at night. “I’d say maybe you should try and set some time apart, but then I’d be a hypocrite.” she mused, shrugging to herself. “Do you work a job with crazy hours too?” she asked, plucking at her scrubs as if making a point.

How quickly the strangers face flushed red! It had a childish smirk growing on him. “Please, it’s really fine.” He chuckled, making an effort to stand up straight and look a little bit more presentable. It seemed an odd time for somebody in a uniform to be travelling home. He usually recognised regular workers making their commute. Maybe this lady had just covered a shift or something, and maybe Dino should just mind his own business. “Summer nights are the best nights for most things, aren’t they?” 

Lizzie was’t one unfamiliar with bumbling over something and getting embarrassed, but still- this little mishap was one for the books in her opinion. She watched the man stand up straight, taking a little step back to not crowd his space as much and she blinked up at him as he stood at full height, watched him dust himself off a bit, and now that she could get a good look at him, while he did look tired, he didn’t, in fact, look homeless after all. If anything, he probably looked less tired than she did. Oh well. “Mmm, yes, I suppose. Although admittedly this summer I’ve worked most nights. Or I’m home, probably trying to sleep.” She joked lightly, a little hint of a smile tugging on her lips. “Come to think of it, I can’t even remember the last time I stayed out at night to just look at the stars.” probably before--life from before was always a bit hazy though, and the more she tried to think about it, the faster it slipped away, like trying to hold water in your hands. She realized she’d spaced off and gone quiet and she tried to snap out of it. “Do you do this often?”

The green bills he was being offered were a charitable gesture, sweet but completely misplaced. He took no offence though. He looked pretty rough and worn out from the busy night. Not to mention he was quite literally sitting in a doorway. He glanced up from the step he was sat at to the figure standing before him, light from the closest street lamp falling upon them. “Thank you, but I am far from homeless. I’m just stargazing.” His accent always came out a little thicker when he was tired, drunk of excitable. “Best to give it to someone else.”

After a long shift at the hospital, Lizzie ended up getting off on the wrong bus stop. It was a clear night though, the light breeze in the air making it comfortable, so she decided to just walk the rest of the way home and hope she wouldn’t get lost. She had about fifteen percent battery...should be fine if she needed the gps. As she saw a man sitting alone she felt something tug at her heartstrings and she fished through her bag, finding the last bit of money she had and offered it to him. As he not only refused it though but told he he wasn’t in fact homeless, Lizzie felt heat flooding her face, flushing all the way to the tips of her ears. “Oh--I..gosh, I’m sorry!” she fumbled a bit with her words, trying to shove the money away like if it’d disappear it’d be like this whole embarrassing exchange never happened. “I-It um....it’s a nice night at least? For that..?” she tried, biting her lip.

Dewey let out a sigh of relief at her answer.  “Oh thank god, I was scared I was gonna be stuck waiting here for over an hour or more or having to call my uncle and have him come get me.”  He took the bottle of water and tried not to drink all of it at once in case he got thirsty again before he got home.  “Oh thank you so much, you’re so kind.”

Lizzie laughed softly, shaking her head, “Nah, doubt it. Besides, I don’t even think I’ve ever waited more than twenty minutes for a bus- and trust me, I’ve missed a lot since my time here.” She told him in what she hoped was an assuring way. She watched in surprise as he downed the bottle in one shot, a bit impressed. “Oh, of course, you’re welcome. It’s always good to be a little kind to strangers, especially when they seem as frantic as you did about thirty seconds ago. Late for something important?”

“It was for a case,” Basil mumbled running a hand through his now blonde hair.  He felt self-conscious about it and didn’t really like it.  “It was supposed to just be for a disguise not a whole thing.  I thought it was going to wash out and now I’m stuck like this.”

Lizzie didn’t know the man speaking, but she knew all too well the look of someone feeling self-conscious so she immediately gave him a small smile, “Well um...while the little part about a disguise and a case is certainly..intriguing, I’ll just focus on the hair part and say it doesn’t look bad!” she tried to assure him, admittedly babbling a bit with how quickly the words came out. “I’ll also say that if you don’t like it all that much to go to a salon or something. Don’t try dyeing it out yourself or it could end up orange! Wouldn’t want that!”

Dewey had managed to get held up back at his internship so he missed his normal bus home.  He was panting when he made it to his stop and pretty much out of breathe when he asked what time the next one came.  When the woman didn’t respond he moved closer to her, slowly catching his breath as he did so.  “Yeah, I asked if you knew what time the next bus is?  I missed my normal one.”

Lizzie was taken aback for a second by the panting boy in front of her but once she heard the question she gave a reassuring smile and nodded down the road behind him, “Probably about five minutes more, so you’re just in time.” She assured him. She glanced beside herself before down to the ground, picking up her bag that’d fallen and digging inside, coming up a moment later with an unopened water bottle, “Here. You look like you could use it more than I will.”

Raising a brow she looked towards the back and then at the other. “You drunk or high? I mean most people that sit and space out on the bus bench are a trip to come across. Cute bag - I would get it off the ground though before it picks up some sort of illness.” 

Lizzie opened her mouth to speak but then closed it, a little frown tugging at her lips, “Why does it have to be one or the other? You’ve never been lost in your own head before?” She asked softly, hesitating before reaching down to pick up her bag. She dusted the bottom off a bit before placing it in her lap. “I did’t realize it’d fallen, um..thanks.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wendy said wistfully as she stared down at the city from the rooftop she had made herself comfy at. “I come up here for some peace sometimes…or when I get the sudden urge to write something…..What brings you up here?”

Places that were secluded but wide and open were often Lizzie’s favorite. They made her feel at peace and yet not stifled, made her feel like she wasn’t being watched, waited on to break. She felt like she could breathe. She had a book in hand, ready for an evening with the warm breeze and the city lights under her after her work shift when she heard a voice and she looked over, hesitant for a moment. She didn’t recognize the girl, but she seemed harmless enough so she gave a little smile, “Pretty much the same. It’s like a whole other world up here, away from the hustle and bustle below. I like the quiet.”