3:16 AM.

Lucas found amusement in the other’s explanation and nodded his head understandingly, smiling as he spoke. “Say no more, I know the feeling. It seems like you either love or you loathe what you grew up around. There’s no real middle ground.” He was enlightened by having Poppy put it in perspective for him as well as flattered by her insistence on the gallery being a success. “I have to admit that is exactly how it unravels for me time and time again. I’m trying, though. Everything has gone smoothly.” Lucas said with a partial shrug, mostly reassuring himself. “Did you come with your family or do you just enjoy art enough to disregard the overall theme?”

Poppy smiled at Lucas, considering that she often had to ramble for another 5 for minutes before someone got what she was talking about, “I think I only hated it due to the fact I had to disagree with everything my dads had to say, not for any reason apart from I thought it was funny at the time.” She couldn't help but laugh, and then return back to the conversation, “I value success, and I don’t think anyone should me modest in their successes. Congrats on another successful opening, I suppose.” She held out her champagne float, ready to toast, “Oh no, I came alone. They asked if I’d heard of it, I said no, they asked if I could go, I said no, and they finally said ‘please will you go we are just two old men stuck in New Orleans and have no life of our own so need to live it through our favourite child’ and I said ok. I’m pleasantly surprised though, instead of just seeing the work, I’m actually appreciating it.”

It wasn’t every day that Luke was awoken by someone banging on his apartment door, especially someone that was clearly looking for someone in charge of some sort of business investment, he would assume. He slightly looked up, the light from the hallway making his eyes hurt and he shook his head, trying to let her know that it wasn’t that big of a deal. “No, it’s fine.” he spoke, his voice raspy from the lack of any other spoken words being said that day. “I shouldn’t still be sleeping.” he added, moving slightly so that he could gaze at the girl without feeling like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. “I’m sorry that I’m not who you’re looking for.” he started, leaning against the door frame, his shirtless torso pressing most of it’s weight against it; that would certainly leave an indention once he removed himself from the molding. He opened his mouth to speak again as she said that the meeting had been cancelled. “Oh, that blows.” he shrugged, looking back at her. “I know a few people that live in this complex.” he nodded. “Could I maybe see who you’re looking for?” he asked. “I might be able to lead you in the right direction.”

Poppy shook her head, “I should’ve gotten the right address if you were sleeping you were sleeping and I shouldn’t have woken you.” She half smiled at the man, “I mean, I was about to meet with an old man who has nothing better to do than ask his accountants to his apartment, so I wouldn’t exactly be sorry.” She laughed, slightly and looked at her watch. Her day had technically freed up, and she thought of all the things she could get done now that she didn’t need to make small talk, “You don’t need to if you don’t want to, I was looking for a Mr. Grotman but if you don’t know him I wouldn’t lay awake at night thinking about it.” She tugged on the bottom of her pencil skirt, trying to pull it down a little.

“But I’m not eleven anymore, Poppy.” Beckett argued, his tone kept soft and low as a soft sigh escaped his lips. “I’m nineteen and fully capable of taking care of myself and able to make decisions for myself.” He’d never admit it to her, but Beckett was secretly thankful that he had a third pair of eyes watching over him - not that he needed another, his parents were plenty to keep him safe. As much as Poppy and Beckett disagreed on many things, he knew a disagreement would never keep her from loving him. Continuing on their path towards the ice cream shop Beckett felt like it was his turn to harmlessly pry into the life of his sister, if only for his own amusement. “I’m still waiting to hear all about Paris, y’know.” Beckett smirked, brown eyes glancing over towards his sister, hoping to get something out of her.

“You are to me.” Poppy stated bluntly, before continuing, “If anything happened to you Beckett, if you were to make the wrong decision and I know that I could’ve done something to prevent it, I couldn’t cope with it. How could I explain to dads that I didn’t intervene when I sensed something was wrong?” Clearing her throat, implying a swift move in the conversation, Poppy went silent when Beckett mentioned Paris. “I told you, there was this man. I made a mistake there and I’m in the process of fixing it. That’s all that needs to be said, we can just act like it never happened.” She sighed a little, approaching the ice cream store, “What do you want?” She asked, pulling out her purse.

“Seriously? See, math wasn’t my strong suit, I got out of it in college after Algebra and took this mathematics of voting class and I was done. My brain automatically goes to working for NASA.” Obviously, he watched one too many movies. “Yeah, I have a good time with it. I do a lot of different things with my career. My publicist just got tired of listing out everything and was literally just pick one and it’ll encompass everything. I dabble though at being a musician and being an organizer for a charity foundation, which actually is why I asked what kind of accounting you do. I’m going to need to hire someone to come and work on all the tax forms and money proceeds once they come in, which leads me down to a whole other conversation path that shouldn’t be discussed in the middle of a beautiful day in the park.” At least they both came with warning labels of talking too much. This wasn’t all that unexpected. “That’s what counts in New York. If you can find an affordable shoebox then you can pretty much put up with anything else. Fifteen minutes isn’t too bad. Is that with or without traffic?” he laughed at her joke about the baby proofing. “He’s obviously your younger brother. I have the opposite problem, I’m the baby of the family, which means I got away with a lot more than I probably should have.” He wasn’t a wild child or anything just a lot to handle with a talent he wanted to share with the world.  Forlornly though he had to shake his head, “No. I don’t have a dog yet. I wish I did. I just can’t bring myself to commit to it with my schedule for work. I’d feel bad having him locked up all day in the apartment and I wouldn’t want to pawn him off to some production assistant on set to take care of. So I call him my future furbaby. Eventually, I’ll decide it’s the right time to get one. Instead, I live vicariously through everyone else having pets.“

“Yes, I’ve always loved it. I think that’s most people's reaction towards the subject, I’m not going to lie, I think I’m a mutant.” Poppy couldn’t help but let a laugh escape, “Well, I’m very impressed, and if I were your publicist I’d let you ramble all day just to hear about your many talents. What kind of foundation? I’d love to help, honestly, I’ll give you my number and we can get into talks about it one miserable, rainy day. Not in a park, maybe some dull cafe, the perfect sombre atmosphere.” Poppy smiled as she discussed her place of residence, “About 20 in traffic? It’s not all too bad, there’s something nice and professional about the Financial District, to be honest. I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere, maybe somewhere closer to the Upper East Side but I think maybe that’s it.” When Everett mentioned that he was, in fact, puppy-less, she couldn't help but frown, “I suppose it’s for the best. It’s only now that I’m seriously thinking about getting my own little baby. I’m starting to get the time for it. You’re right though, it wouldn’t be fair just dumping it on someone every day while you go to work.”

“It’s a little too late for you to be claiming you’re not going to tell me what to do.” he huffed. Beckett was more than a little annoyed with his sister, if only she could have bit her tongue for the sake of their afternoon together. However he wasn’t going to allow it to spoil the moment, especially considering it was the first time in a few weeks that the two were spending quality time with each other. Doing his best to shake off any ill feelings that might be lingering, Beckett turned to his sister and gave her a crooked smile. “Are you still paying for that sundae or not? I feel a sweet tooth coming on strong.”

“I can’t help it, it’s second nature to me, even when I try not to. You’re still like, 11, to me.” Poppy sighed slightly, she’d often struggled to let go of Beckett’s life, but being so far away from their parents, Poppy saw it as her responsibility to act as some form of parent figure for Beckett, giving him guidance and whatnot. She often did overstep her boundaries with him, there was no reason for her to be a parent when he had two perfectly good ones just a phone call away. When Beckett attempted conversation again, Poppy was relieved that she hadn’t gone too far with her pushiness, “I will most definitely, it’s not every sunny afternoon I get to treat my little brother. Let’s go.” She said with a grin, picking up her pace a little.

“I don’t know, you sounds very excited about your job and that’s all that really matters. It doesn’t matter what others think. At least you get to try different areas to see where you want to end up for the next thirty years of your career.” He couldn’t help but shrug, “What makes you think I do something exciting?” he said with a smirk, because of him, he had the only job he ever wanted and he got up every day truly passionate about it. “Okay, okay, I’ll give. I’m an actor….in sort of the very basic of terms without adding on the etc, etc, etc with it. We talked about babbling, my publicist literally just death glares at me when I don’t stop at just actor.” An enthusiasm in his tone as he spoke. “I never actually thought about that, but your right, from the financial district you literally have to catch the train to go somewhere else for all the fun.” He found a commonality between their humor over their siblings, a lot of the times people took him to seriously when he said he tried to sell his brother. They both played on the joke. “Ouch, that sounds like your dad was pretty strict. I wasn’t allowed into the formal living room either to play the “decorative’ grand piano in the house.” he rolled his eyes, “That didn’t really last long cause I pretty much snuck in there anyway and tried to be the next Mozart. This was of course before I had any formal training and it was me pounding on keys.” His own story had a happy ending to it though. “My mom was against a puppy because I’m allergic to pretty much anything with fur. And my future Goldendoodle fur baby wasn’t actually in existence yet or I would have put on one heck of a tantrum.”

“I’m a self-proclaimed math genius though, so there were limited fields I could go into with math being an exciting part of my job. I couldn’t have dealt with being a high school teacher.” Poppy let out a little laugh, “I don’t know, you just have this aura of some sort that says ‘I don’t have a boring job’. I was right though, wasn’t I? An actor, amongst other things that your publicist has told you to stop talking about.” She grinned, listening to the enthusiasm in his voice, “It’s convenient for work, I guess, and I’ve got a nice apartment for the price I got it for, so the 15-minute cab ride is worth it to get into civilisation.” Poppy didn’t often speak to people who had a publicist, so this was an unusual encountering for her. “He was and he wasn’t, he just liked his nice things to remain nice. I think the entire house remained baby proofed until Beckett was at least 15 and a half.” Poppy joked as she continued, “Do you have a dog now?” She asked. Dogs were totally up her street, anyone with a dog was automatically a friend of hers.

“When I get the time, hopefully. I work a lot, which sounds like you could relate being an accountant. Do you work for a large firm or do more individual work?” He asked for conversation, but also he was actually looking for some help in that area. If not her maybe she knew someone to pass on the word. “Well, technically I live in Greenwich Village, but my job at the time, six out of seven times a week for sometimes twelve, fourteen hours was down in Times Square so I pretty much felt like I did. It was crazy sometimes the traffic. I could have walked it faster.” he could tell by her response it was a subject better left for another time and something you didn’t talk to a complete stranger or not. Letting it go, he found himself laughing at her wishing she could call her brother an acquaintance. “I know brother’s so annoying that way right? I know I tried to sell mine when I was about six, maybe seven. He was free to a good home and there were no takers. My mom pretty much wasn’t into the idea that a puppy was way better, despite my arguments.” There was a fondness there thought as he spoke about his sibling the two were close now.

“Oh, totally. I feel like all I do is work. I work for a firm, but right now I’m dabbling halfway between being a public accountant and financial advisor. I suppose that’s why I like it there, I’m still young and not too sure what route I want to go down so they’re letting me experiment. Enough about my boring job, I bet you do something exciting.” She said, she often felt strange talking about her job; to her, it was the most exciting thing to be, an accountant, but it seemed to bore others, reasons she could understand. Poppy looked up at him when he mentioned he lived in Greenwich Village, “Really? It’s lovely round there. I’m in the Financial District, which is nice except if you want to do anything at night you have to travel.” She half groaned at her home, while it was nice enough, there was no drama, of which Poppy craved. “I’m still trying to sell mine off, or get him shipped back to Louisiana,” Poppy joked, “I would’ve much preferred a puppy to a brother, but my father was adamant we were not allowed pets in his household, especially his precious living room.”

“I’ve kind of decided mine will wrap around the earth, possibly twice, by the time I get around to it,” He laughed, his finger sort of doing this circular spinning motion as he spoke. “You and me both, at least then we wouldn’t have to explain to people that this is just a normal state of being for us and it’s when we don’t talk a lot they have to start to worry. But I agree with you. I think I have even become guilty of it a little even just in a couple years. I lived a year of my life in Times Square and people come from all over the world just to be there.  I still have a majestic feeling though when I leave and I’m flying back into JFK and you pass the Statue of Liberty.” He hoped he never lost that sense of wonder about the city. It was talking about it as an avid lover of new york that reminding him how much he loved living there. “No, I don’t think that’s cliche at all. Paris is the city of love and if you’re going to be anywhere for it,” He paused, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. But at least you got to come back here and what better place to try and start over.” Having realized she was indeed related to his coffee house friend, she introduced herself and offered out a hand. “I guess you could call Beckett an acquaintance? A coffee friend, something like that.” Everett took her hand and shook it, “I’m Everett Andrews.”

“Well, you better start on your list, pretty quickly too.” Poppy sighed, being reminded of the own list that she’d need to get through someday; not today, though. “You lived in Times Square? I am thoroughly impressed, apart from the fact you were most likely stuck in traffic all the time because of all of the tourists.” Poppy grinned and couldn’t help herself but be fascinated with how well he spoke of the feeling he got flying home. She shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, cliches are just that and nothing more. They’re not meant to be realities, and I just had to learn that the hard way.” She forced a half-hearted smile, as she shook Everett’s hand, now that they were formally introduced. “I wish I could think of Beckett as an acquaintance myself, unfortunately on my part, we’re a little more than coffee friends.”

‘‘-hey why don’t we just go for a drink, maybe grab some food, and see how things go then, eh? you look like you could use a drink and i don’t know, I guess i’m kinda hungry too…and I promise it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s happy hour and i don’t have work tomorrow or anything…’’

“I feel like all New York does is encourage me to drink, but sure, why not. As long as we eat first, I don’t to be drinking on an empty stomach at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“You never truly realize how special of a place New York City is until you leave it. Every time I go home to Los Angeles, I always find myself missing it here. That being said, I’m absolutely thrilled to be back and I can’t wait to return to performing.”  

“That’s what I think, it’s something I’ve preached honestly. I left for Paris for the majority of the spring and I didn’t realise how much I missed New York until I got back into my routine. It also must be a treat for you, to jump back into your craft.”

Lexi spent most of her late nights stocking the liquor. With a pair of headphones in her ears the girl held a bottle of wine in her hand, dancing around to the music in her ears, until a loud bang behind her made her jump and slip, spilling the staining liquid everywhere.

Poppy had a bad habit of visiting the liquor store after a hard shift at work, something she’d excused herself with simply because it was only wine she was drinking, nothing to be ashamed of. She stood there, browsing the array of reds they had on display when smash. Poppy immediately jumped to see a young woman, who’d just spilt wine everywhere. Walking over to her ready to help, Poppy cracked a joke, “Wow, it almost looked like a crime scene round here.”

Luke’s eyes were heavy and the sun coming through the curtains of his apartment were making his migraine increase. He wasn’t usually one to sleep this late in the day, but being up all hours of the night with calls on the latest project, on top of the fact that he barely slept at all anyways. He could hear what he assumed was the faint tapping on the door and he groaned, placing his hand over his eyes to block out any sort of light as he began the trek through his apartment and towards the front door. “Coming..” he faintly called, unsure if there was even anyone at the door, but prepared to shoo them off as quickly as possible if they were.

Poppy stood outside the door, meeting with an investor with her company in their own apartment... their request. She stood outside the door, ready to be greeted with a coffee and lunch, as promised but as time ticked, she’d wondered whether there had been a misunderstanding with the arrangements. Finally, the door opened, “HI, I’m Poppy Chateau, the accountant fro-” it wasn’t the  50 something man with a beer belly and over pompous attitude she’d been expecting, but instead a much younger gentleman who she’d appeared to have awoken. “Oh, I’m so sorry for waking you up, I was supposed to meet with someone at an apartment in this building,” she looked down at her phone, and almost by magic she got a text saying she appointment had been rescheduled, “which, by the off chance had just been cancelled. I’m so sorry again, really.”

When she finally heard someone speak, Sierra’s head snapped forward and she raised a brow as the brunette continued to talk. All Sierra did was wave it off and scoff a little while she smoothed out her dress. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop my coffee on you,” she muttered, adjusting the bags in her arms. “Fuck, since when did New York even get so crowded. It’s a Tuesday afternoon. People should be at work.”

Poppy had to pause for a minute. Inhale and exhale. Smile. Poppy chose to ignore the woman’s spiteful comment to herself as she forced herself to speak once again, “Funnily enough, people need to commute while at work. That’s where I was going right now before you ran into me, to go back to my office after a meeting.” She then went onto brushed her pencil skirt, ensuring nothing had gotten onto her skirt before having to go to speak to her boss.

“You make, me sound like an old…man,” Sebastian laughed, “I’m 27. It’s…good you like your job, though. That’s, the most important thing. If you, don’t enjoy it, then you won’t…do your best. I-I mean not, you specifically, just…in general.”

“27 isn’t old, especially for a man. I guess that’s society, though, isn’t it? Women begin to feel old just as their life truly begins.” Poppy grinned, taking her new glass of wine from the bartender, “It’s ok, I get you. I feel like if you don’t enjoy your job, what’s the point in doing it? To make a living, I suppose, and there has to be some practicalities behind it all so it’s not often financially sensible to necessarily do what you want exactly but...” Poppy stopped, slightly embarrassed she’d managed to go off on a tangent, “Sorry, what was I saying?”

“That’s what I heard, you have to go and experience yourself to really enjoy the whole ambiance of New Orleans. It’s on the bucket list that I will eventually get to.” He mused with a laugh. Though it seemed to grow more and more with each passing day with things he wanted to experience. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m usually the one with the warning label that says ‘tends to talk more than he actually should’. Plus it’s nice to find someone just excited about living in this beautiful city.” Listening to her story, he was impressed when she said Princeton and that she had lived overseas and experienced so much. “Wow,” He said with a blink, “What took you to Paris? Was it your work?” He asked curiously and peaked a little when she mentioned her brother Beckett. She was from New Orleans and well, there was millions of people in the city, was it really that much of a chance. “Beckett Chateau? Your brother?” He asked. “Haha, I usually think of the Boston Tea Party, but the pilgrims too.” 

Poppy nodded, smiling as she reminisced about her life in New Orleans and the excitement that was Mardis Gras, it had been a while. Perhaps a visit was in order. “I think my bucket list is a mile long at this stage.” Poppy commented as she grinned as Everett sympathised with her tendency to speak far more than she could. “I think I should get that tattooed on my forehead at this stage. Isn’t it? I feel like those who live there are beginning to grow less keen towards it, they lose the sense of magic, you know?” Poppy asked him, before immediately getting quiet when he questioned her reasons for going to Paris. It took her a minute, but Poppy was able to force a fake smile, “Would it be cliche to say the hope of a lifelong love? It didn’t work out though, thus me coming back here. I’m not too fussed, it’s hardly the worst place to come home to.” Poppy mused but gained interest when he mentioned Beckett, “Yes, that’s the one. Though I’m the OG of the family. How do you know him? I’m Poppy. Poppy Chateau, but I think that’s self-explanatory considering you know my brother’s last name.” She said as she extended out her hand towards Everett.

“I think…I knew a few people, like that in high school,” he mused, thinking back to that time long ago. Wow, he felt old just trying to remember. Sebastian blinked, concerned that the topic was too personal or perhaps made her sad. “You could, say the same…for your job too. Someone, has to do it.” 

“Well, I’m not the same now. As much as I wish I could say I’m 17 again, I’m not, I’m 23.” Poppy joked and laughed a little, “Well, I really enjoy my job, I don’t see how anyone could think it was boring.” Poppy said, finishing her drink and ordering a new one.