𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕕

Corrine was exhausted. She’d just finished up at rehearsal and her babysitter had dropped the kids off to her, so it seemed that she couldn’t even catch a moment to herself to wind down from the day. Instead, she was stuck with two rambunctious children who wanted to go out for ice cream and see a movie, when she just wanted to go home and rest for a while. Despite the yelling and screaming coming from the kids wanting her to hurry up, she’d managed to change into her street clothes and shove her things in her duffel bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

As she left, Clara insisting that she be allowed to push Fritz in his stroller, Corrine watched closely as her two children walked ahead of her on the sidewalk, never wanting to stray too far behind in case Clara accidentally let go of the stroller. When the little girl turned a corner, she followed close enough behind to see her ram the stroller directly into someone’s legs. “Clara!” She closed the few paces that were between them, swatting the five year old’s hands away from the stroller and taking the handles in her own hands. “I’m so sorry about that,” She lifted her gaze and looked up at the person, an embarrassed smile on her lips. “Are you alright?”

He had always carried a conflicting perception when it came to children; he had berated Clarissa for choosing not to bear her--their--child yet at the same time, he would not have known how to take care of it had she chosen to continue on with the process. He often preferred to avoid them, knowing well that he would not be able to gain any benefits from tricking a darn toddler but it was quite unfortunate that some of them seemed to possess an annoyingly large bout of adamancy, bothering adults who would rather be left alone or were enjoying themselves, like what he had been doing, a straw pinched between his lips whilst he savored his people-watching hobby. 

Rusty faltered, taken aback by the smirk on the man’s face and the way he seemed to be watching him, analysing his behaviour. He felt incredibly self conscious beneath his gaze and made an effort to stand straight, pushing his hair back from his face with shaking hands. “What’s- what’s up with me?” He asked, confused by the question. A frown creased his brow and he realised his behaviour was likely making him look ten times more suspicious. In trying to appear less like an addict, he was only serving to appear more like one. Only he wasn’t entertaining the idea of a fix right now, he only wanted Nicotine. He felt a blush creep to his cheeks at the mention of his appearance. He was past looking ill and strung out, but that didn’t mean, on the odd occasion, he couldn’t resemble the mess he knew himself to be. He felt a brief spark of gratitude, glad that Matt wasn’t around to see him in such an unstable state. It was only now that the promise of a lighter was being held over his head that he realised how badly he was craving his pills, how badly he wanted to leave and do something incredibly stupid. “I’m fine.” He insisted, sure he would feel better after a smoke. “It’s been a long day. I just- I really need a cigarette and I can’t find my lighter.” 

Rusty let out a sigh, pulling a carton of cigarettes from the pocket of his sherpa jacket with the desperation of a drowning man. Sometimes he enjoyed class, but when the lecturer was a stand-in, a dull old woman who clearly would much rather be at home drinking her body weight in brandy, his mind began to wander, his attention slipped, which had proven to almost always be dangerous. He hated dwelling on his past, hated allowing himself to daydream about the very last time he got high. But it happened, and here he was, standing in the street, missing the last hour of his lecture because he couldn’t sit in a silent room, bored to insanity, without apparently longing for his drugs. He began to search for his lighter, the need for Nicotine growing as each moment passed. But he couldn’t find it. It wasn’t in his pocket, and after a hurried rummage through his messenger bag, he concluded it wasn’t in there either. “Hey-” He called, rushing to the nearest stranger who just happened to be walking by, feeling a little guilty for approaching them with obvious panic. “Please tell me you have a lighter-” 

mj was sat outside of the crowded cafe, headphones covering one of his ears while he worked on his laptop, trying to find a decent beat before writing the lyrics for his next song, knowing he had to go to a writing camp at the end of the week for some unnamed artist and wanting to bring at least something to the table. his hand went over to the appetizer plate he had ordered earlier and he grabbed something off his plate without looking, popping it into his mouth before spitting it out onto his laptop, “oh, fuck, gross, what the fuck,” he said, grabbing a napkin and rubbing it against his tongue, “do you want these? i didn’t realize they were mushroom,” he said with a disgusted look on his face.

Nicki wasn’t big into drinking, but when the other girls in her conservatory ordered shots, she couldn’t decline. She didn’t want to be the only one there sober and bored. She told herself it was experience, and that it would be good for her as an artist. She downed the shot and immediately felt sick from the taste. She looked to her friend. “I have to pee.” She walked away from the girls, ready to go vomit in the bathrooms. She ran into a person and someone’s drink got shoved, spilling onto her white shirt. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“In the mood for anything in particular?” Noah asked curiously, as he positioned his own self and began to lift up the chair as soon as the other began to do so as well. Noah began to walk in the direction of where his apartment was. Luckily it wasn’t too far and it was only a couple of feet away from them. “Oh. I’m Noah by the way. I probably should have started off with an introduction. Forgive me, it’s been a busy week with moving in and all and figuring out my route at the hospital.” Noah probably shouldn’t have been talking as much as he was for carrying a heavy object but his nerves were getting the best of him and when he got nervous around new people, he tended to ramble a bunch. 

Eddie laughs. He knows people like him. The condescension stinks and he’s hung with enough A listers to quite give them a run for their money. This person is nothing in comparison. “You would love to see that, wouldn’t you?” He smirks. At least he’s attractive looking. Worth Eddie’s time for that. He sucks on the straw of his smoothie again, leaning back to watch him. “What do you think? Maybe I’ve been watching you.” His attitude would have suited the Hollywood scene so well. Arrogant but good looking. “Yeah, yeah. I’m taking a break. Gotta have to cool down after all that action. What are you doing here? Enjoying the show I hope?”