𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔦𝔫𝔤

“If I’m a nightmare you’re whatever comes after it” lola quickly shot back , nudging him back with the foot he had just woken her up by tapping. “It’s six in the morning and you’re awake? What the fuck is wrong with you” lola lets out a loud groan as she finally stretches her body, now that her eyes were open there was no way she was going back to sleep. “I’m not being dramatic, matt. my head is pounding and i would sooner drink battery acid before i drank water from a public fountain” there it was, that little princess attitude lola always had was never far behind even when she was in a state such as this. “Where are you going so early anyways? Or should I be asking where you’re coming back from?” 

“reality? i’m pretty fucking sure after a nightmare, you just wake up. hardly an insult, but i like your attempt at banter so early in the morning.” he shoots back with fake pity, watching in amusement as she struggled to get herself up. six am meant nothing to him. matthew was the king of ruined sleep schedules. It wasn’t his fault, really. a job without specific hours led to a lot of chaos in your daily schedule. not to mention he was convinced he wrote better songs late at night. eight am was usually his bedtime. sunset was usually when he started the day. clearly lola wasn’t used to hours quite like that though. “i had to do some shit, i was on my way back to the apartment to crash when i saw your lifeless corpse in our lobby.” he muses simply. her princess attitude is just anothert thing about her that he finds amusing. you live in a regular ass apartment in miami and suddenly you’re above a water fountain. iconic. “sorry princess, i’ll make sure to carry a sparkling water next time. and where im coming from is none of your business.”

vi never had trouble making friends back home. still, her move to miami (all by herself) was nerve wrecking. she felt incredibly fortunate to have the friends she had in miami – and she spent everyday trying to show them all just how grateful she was to have them. “good. because i missed you. it’s been an insane few days.” she chimed, her voice as melodic as always. “here, let me help you. thought you’d be cold, so i came prepared.” violet places the picnic basket down beside her feet. she pulls the beach towel from her shoulder. finally, she wraps the other in the towel and (subsequently) in a big hug. lei was one of her dearest friends. it felt good to have someone so close to hear that she could trust with her life. she wanted to return the favor with all of her warmth and love. after a big squeeze, violet pulled away. “i know you  must be tired of the veggie burgers by now so… i whipped up a pasta. not to toot my own horn… but, you’re gonna just die when you taste it.” 

“well, maybe… i can be your first.” all she did was smile at him. the sweetest smile she had. a smile she really thought he needed. she might not know him ( or much else, for that matter ) but she knew someone who just needed a little love when she saw them. and maybe it was overly optimistic of her but, she could almost instantly see herself untangling that barbed wire exterior of his. she could be someone who put flowers in his hair and told him how pretty he was. she could get to know him. violet was good at getting to know people. some people thought she must be a little bit… thoughtless to see so much good in quite literally everyone. but she loved people. violet had to bite her lip to contain the tiny squeak of excitement that nearly escaped her as he finally agreed to help her. see, she’s already untangling. gladly handing over  the few boxes she couldn’t carry. “i can’t thank you enough.” she said, a little bit of a skip in her step as she finally made her way toward the building. “if there’s anything i can do to return the favor… just ask. i’ve got an open door policy. oh, or i can always give you free food of course. anytime! though, you don’t look like the veggie burger type.” 

imogen grew up around these sorts of events,  she had experienced the kind of childhood that seemed far removed from being a kid.  she had learned to speak to adults and engage in conversation from a young age,  she was made for occasions like this.  it wasn’t that she didn’t like them,  the truth was she didn’t know any different so she had nothing to compare it to.  she only knew this so she assumed she enjoyed it. 

her stance is tall but tense and anyone around would be able to feel the stress radiating off of her,  she hated mistakes and failures and anything going wrong.  in her mind,  because she was so scheduled as a person,  everything was meant to go as planned.                                              “ guitar ?” she hums,  she could’ve sworn he said piano.  whatever,  right now it didn’t matter.  “ guitar… fine, “  she looks around knowing damn well she didn’t have a guitar at the event.  she hadn’t hired a band just a pianist.  the word ‘no’  kinda went straight over her head, imogen turning back to face him.   “ did you bring it by any chance ?”

this unlikely friendship between the two was exactly that: unlikely. a rich girl with an insane work ethic and a tired burnout who hated most people he met. a match, maybe not made in heaven, but a match nonetheless. their relationship wasn’t built on mutual hobbies or childhood experiences, but on respect. imogen wasn’t going to bullshit him. she was capable of saying what needed to be said, and taking everything he shot back with a grain of salt. 

“guitar.” he repeated himself, raising a brow at her apparent disappointment to hear his answer. the piano was nice and all, but It was limiting. that’s why he’d chosen the guitar as a kid. not to say he had a lack of respect for pianists everywhere, he just wasn’t one of them. though, It wasn’t a bad idea to pick up another instrument. maybe that could fill his seemingly empty days or at the bare minimum he could stop using the piano on bandcamp everytime he needed a different sound for a demo.

“did i bring my guitar to a fancy fucking country club party? yeah, no.” he answered simply, practically rolling his eyes at her inquiry. though, his high and mighty attitude didn’t last very long. “it is in my car though. if you want to borrow It, i guess you can. but if you break my shit? you’re gonna have a bigger issue than a lack of entertainment.” he warned, though his threat is rather empty. he’s not going to hurt imogen, clearly, he was just a little over protective about his instrument.

“not the compliment type? i get it. my mom’s the same way.” she really isn’t. her mother was just too bashful for compliments. she figured the other was similar. “won’t happen again.” it probably would. violet’s misinterpretations persist. maybe she just caught him on a tiring day. still, she couldn’t help but treat the other as if they were destined to meet like this. written in the stars. rose tinted glasses only become more opaque as the other nods. vi had been told she was a little much before. far too warm. far too bubbly. far too talkative. he didn’t need to say it, but she considered pulling back just a touch. violet shrugged, “ah, well y’know we’re neighbors. and I kinda need help carrying these to my door.” the soft smile on her face, still, was unwavering. it was as if she wanted the other to know she was a friendly face. probably the friendly face he could ever meet. “oh, great! so my floor is on the way, then. it’s really nice to meet you, matt.” she cannot take a hint. “hm. fair enough. sweet potato fries aren’t as good as regular fries. though, i’m more of a waffle fry kinda gal myself.” she hums. 

not the compliment type. he supposed that was one way of putting It. even if her version was far kinder than his. correcting the brunette seemed to be a waste of breath. her positivity practically radiated through her shitty little food truck like a star on top of the christmas tree. It was nauseating. most people would take his silence as a hint. or at least take his insults as one. however, this girl seemed to have a rather high immunity built up. It was almost as if his crude nature couldn’t interfere with her at all. “yeah. making friends with the neighbors? not my thing.” he finally replies. silence doesn’t work. insults don’t work. how about simply being blunt? was there anything he could do to deter her from getting closer? or was he doomed to spend his night carrying tupperware for a girl he probably wouldn’t sleep with. that thought alone made him sound like a sleeze. the issue wasn’t with her attractiveness though. violet, for what It was worth, was very easy on the eyes. the issue was her attitude. matthew liked to sleep with people who would be gone before the sun rose. she gave off breakfast vibes, something he certainly didn’t want to deal with. “you know what? fine. if you stop asking so many questions, I’ll carry this shit upstairs. but that’s It.” matt insists, grabbing the boxes from her. he turns on his heel, planning on finishing this task before she can stall him any longer. 

it would’ve been easier to grovel . to slip away before he got too close and beg on of the shot girls to trade places with her . it would’ve been easier to avoid him completely , but maybe she missed the sound of his voice , even if there was an edge to it now . she wanted nothing more than to forget the way it sounded whispered against her skin , sighed in the dark of the night , or spoken first thing in the morning . she wanted nothing more than to forget his voice entirely , and yet , sometimes she swore she heard it in her dreams . though when she was sleeping , it wasn’t nearly as bitter as it was in reality . marisol immediately regretted not marching away when she had the chance . ( but then again , matthew montgomery always had a magnetic kind’f pull to him , didn’t he ? ) she inhaled through her teeth , brows furrowing slightly as she looked him over . “ hormonal , huh ? ” she tilted her head , giving him a pointed look of disapproval , “ god , i hope your lyrics aren’t as cliche as that was these days . c’mon , you’re better than that . ” she wondered if he ever wrote about her , if the way she’d made him feel was ever big enough to put into song . lord knows she had plenty of canvases of pale blue tainted by black brushstrokes . was it really so long ago that he sat on the other side of that very counter , looking at her as though she were the only girl in the room ? these days , she wasn’t even sure if that had ever been real . these days , she wondered if it was all in her head .

if she had to guess based solely on the way he spoke to her now , she’d say there was never anything other than disdain between them . i know you think the world revolves around you … her expression faltered , and for a sliver of a moment , she allowed hurt to flash in her eyes before she found her footing again . marisol knew she was a lot of things , but selfish had never really been one of them . and for someone who spent so much of her time bending and breaking to appease others , it hurt to hear . the look was gone as soon as it had come , dutifully replaced by a well - practiced , darling smile . she’d gotten her first bartending gig when she was just eighteen ; five years later , she knew how to put on a pretty face for patrons . and that’s all matt was to her now . so she smiled pretty , and her voice was smooth and sweet as she said , “ most people like my commentary . ” she swiped up a hand towel from her side of the bar and tossed it over her shoulder . maybe she could ignore him . she tried as much as someone else stepped up to the bar , and she filled a pint glass to the brim with some shitty beer on tap , all the while charming him . or rather , asking him about himself . men loved talking about themselves . he went to the university of miami , he was in some allegedly brag - worthy fraternity , and he left her a tip that nearly cost more than the drink itself . but for all her focus , she still couldn’t help but turn back to him . a tide relentlessly crashing upon the jagged shore . “ so … what ? shitty vodka at home not cutting it tonight ? you had to come out , alone , to sit at a bar , alone , and brood ? ” her eyes widened in fake sympathy , a small gasp passing her lips , “ did adrian finally get sick of you ? ” but the theatrics fell quickly thereafter , “ seriously , matt , this is fucking depressing . ”

this is how their little games often went. at first the bitterness was softened by the past, but every blow continued to spiral until they were hitting where it hurt. the worst part of it wasn’t the hurt feelings or the negative attention they’d get from anyone within earshot. no. the worst part was knowing this was preferable. the worst part was knowing that he couldn’t stop. insults were the last thing the two shared, and it seemed that neither party was willing to give up the last strand of connection. “yeah? well, that’s probably because i actually care about my lyrics.” he shot back simply. his fingers curled around the glass, blue eyes focused on the way the ice floated near the top. the insinuation that he didn’t care about her was silly. too much wasted breath on insults for someone to not matter. yet, he said It with conviction. even if his words were far from the truth, he wanted marisol to believe them. he wanted to believe them. not caring was an easier pill to swallow than grief. he’d never been the type of man to mourn at a funeral. 

there’s a beat of silence between them. short enough to go unnoticed by the other bar patrons, but long enough for matt’s chest to tighten. for a split second, there’s no malice filled insults or hatred burning between the two. for a split second, marisol just looks hurt. and for that split second, all matthew feels is a deep pit of regret. the same feeling that arose the night they ended things. in this moment, he’s hyper aware of what used to be and what is. there was a time where he would do anything to avoid hurting her. now that was all they did: hurt one another over and over again in an attempt to feel something. however, that second is just a second. a brief moment in time gone far too quickly. maybe if they allowed the feelings to linger, maybe if he allowed himself to feel the pain, he wouldn’t want to create more of it. the potential leaves as soon as it comes though, and they’re back to where they started. fighting at the bar. 

the smile she has so delicately placed on her lips is not her own. or maybe it’s just not the one she used to reserve for him. this smile is cold and empty-- maybe it’s the one he deserved from the start. “Doubtful.” He replied back under his breath, though the brunette is already halfway down the bar taking care of someone else. complimenting someone else. charming someone else. his fingers curl tighter around the glass until his knuckles go white. matt can’t do much but sit there and bite his cheek so hard it almost draws blood. he’s never been the type of guy who held his anger well. it’s like filling a pot to the brim and then asking the water to boil. there was no other options than to let It spill over. by the time she came back around, that’s exactly what happened. “you wanna know why i’m here? maybe i’m here to take someone else home. maybe i like watching you look on from the sidelines and know you weren’t good enough to cut it. actually. you wanna know what i think marisol? i think that you’re the only one whose still fucking depressed and it’s really about time you get the fuck over yourself.”

         “   i  said  sorry  !  ”   as  if  that  refills  her  cup  .  cooper  mimics  her  pout  ,  lesser  lip  jutting  out  .   “  do  you  even  know  how  to  throw  a  football  ?    —   either  way  you  answer  ,  you’re  gonna  be  stuck  playing  catch  with  me  one  day  .  if  not  ,  i’ll  teach  you  .  if  you  do  ,  put  the  board  down  !  ”   his  lips  turn  into  an  easy  smile   ;   cooper’s  only  half  joking  .   “  the  surf  good  today  ?  ”   he  questions  ,  nodding  towards  the  board  .   “  you  could’ve  invited  me  ,  y’know  .  i  think  leaving  me  behind  overrides  me  spilling  your  boba  .  we’re  even  now  .  ”

“it’s okay!” lei draws out. she can’t help the bubbly laughter that erupts from her lips even if a spilled boba is disappointing. anger isn’t an emotion she holds easily, a carefree attitude taking over her day to day. not to mention: she actually enjoyed cooper a lot. “okay well, i’ve never played football. actually that’s the only sport i haven’t really tried, but i’m pretty sure i can figure out how to catch a ball.” she teased back warmly. soren had always been a home away from home, the last bit of hawaii that came with her but coop? he was like all the boys in high school. he was the jock she’d mess around with on the field. he was the goofball she’d sit next to at lunch. in his own right, he was a little bit of home too. “the surf was great, but i had a lesson you dweeb. so unless you wanted to learn alongside darien, the fourty six year old who doesn’t stop talking about cowboy bebop? you will wait your turn.”

she stood at the back of the venue watching the night unfold with the same glass of champagne she’d been sipping on for over an hour now,  her eyes casting over the guests making sure nothing was going wrong with the event.  her father had put this all on her and imogen took it as an opportunity to prove herself,  as always.  the black dress clung to her body as she started to saunter through the room towards what seemed to be bickering by the stage.                 she didn’t need something to go wrong,  not now,  not tonight and not when this was all placed on her shoulders.  she hissed to herself as she started to get pieces of the fight that was unfolding before her.  “what the fuck is going on ??” curses the brunette folding her arms over her chest.  she rolls her eyes as she gets some messy interpretation of the events going down.  she wasn’t liking what she was hearing so therefore she didn’t want to hear it.                                                                                                                 “–shut up,”  she shouts before turning to the musician and sighing out,   “really you’re just quitting ??”  she doesn’t even let him answer before turning on heels and shoving herself through the crowd.  she needed someone to cover this for her,  anyone that could play a few songs for the crowd as they ate dinner.  then it dawned on her,  matthew.  she knew he played piano or some instrument anyway and even though she also did she had duties to tend to.

    “matthew !!” she calls out approaching the man,  “you play piano right ?”​

events like this weren’t exactly his thing. groups of rich women in cocktail dresses sipped on wine that was probably far too expensive. business men who couldn’t stop talking about golf stood around the bar chatting with one another. the servers that were most likely a bunch of tired college students walked back and forth with a million different appetizers and mini cocktails. this was an entirely different world. one he didn’t dare to even consider when he was a kid, much less now in his twenties. maybe that was part of the reason why imogen fascinated him. she could handle all his bullshit, spit It back at him, and then throw on a tight dress and work the room. this was her world. he couldn’t help but wonder if she truly liked It though. 

the look of stress on her face would say otherwise. maybe if matthew was a better friend he’d rush over there and ask what was wrong, or offer his assistance. unfortunately, he wanted no part in something like this. showing up was already a big deal and wearing this monkey suit was even worse. offering to do more wasn’t an option, but he knew he was in trouble when she got that look on her face. heels click across the freshly polished floor, alerting him that she was headed this way.

he takes a swig of his drink, eyes focused on the bar in hopes that would deter her. though truthfully--- he knew imogen. nothing could deter her once she got an idea. that’s why her question was so frighting. “guitar...” he replied, eyes scanning her for some hint to what she was up to. “whatever you’re thinking? the answer is no.”

so caught up in trying to prevent herself from dropping any more food, violet missed the profanity that the other said. in fact, she also hadn’t gotten a good look at him. so, she hands the complete stranger her tupperware boxes and  lets out a sigh of relief. finally her arms can have a little bit of a rest. she lets out a laugh at his question. to be fair, he had a point. even vi knew that. “well, it’s easy. really, you just –” violet’s eyes finally meet the other’s. and it was as if time slowed. romance novels and romcoms have nothing on the moment. it was awestruck and fuzzy feelings. something in her chest flutters. it’s not love at first sight. that’d be too sappy. too naive. too foolish. but, still the words… “your eyes are so pretty. has anyone ever told you that?” spill from her lips. not a second thought. she doesn’t even regret it. her words were honest. “sorry,” not for the compliment. but for how she froze in place like she was the star in a nicholas sparks movie. she could finally make her feet move forward. “i’m on the 2nd floor.” she said quickly. adding, “i’m violet, by the way. i don’t think i’ve seen you around here.” violet should probably stop talking. but, she has no filter and something in her wanted to keep talking to the boy who was certainly didn’t have any time to reply to her. “i’m kinda new though, so that could be why. do you like sweet potato fries?” 

if she’d given him a moment to reply, he would’ve bit back with some comment along the lines of that was a rhetorical question. fortunately for her, he didn’t get the chance. instead he found himself dumb founded in the middle of a food truck. matthew wasn’t a stranger to people’s advances. a shitty attitude only deters a select group. there was always someone willing to ‘fix him’ or ‘break down those walls’. whether It was a drunk girl at the bar or some guy serving him coffee. same shit, different day. what he wasn’t accustomed to was clumsy girls in food trucks saying some hallmark shit like your eyes are so pretty. It takes everything in him not to gag. instead he covers his disgust with a scoff and a roll of the eyes. “don’t say that shit to me.” he replies almost immediately, practically shoving the tupperware on the tiny counter. how anyone cooks in a shitty little kitchen like this is beyond him, but he doesn’t actually care enough to ask the logistics. her apology doesn’t garner a response from him, just a small nod of the head. it’s as if he already knows she’s sorry before the words even leave her lips. because no one in their right mind would say something that corny with complete seriousness and not regret It. “and you’re telling me all of this, why?” he questioned back, clearly running out of steam to keep this conversation going. this girl has way too much too say, and way too many questions to ask. again, he finds himself wondering what’s quicker. giving half assed answers or waiting for her to shut up. “3rd floor. matt. and no.” well, yes. actually he did, but god forbid that question was followed up with an invitation to eat fries in a tiny ass truck? he’d rather just run and take his chances.