from the top

Heather dismissed the waiter as he offered them straws, pushing the green juice towards Ronnie and grabbing her own coke, using it as an excuse to spend a moment ordering her thoughts. “I am the less involved maid of honor in history, my duties include sitting on my ass while my mom and future Mrs. Dr. Drake Ramoray discuss wedding details for hours.”

Ronnie put her shoulders back in preparation to drink her anti-hangover beverage. She grimaced before starting to down it, drinking just under half. She scoffed at Heather’s reference, smiling at her best friend’s wit. She looked down at her green juice after she saw the way Heather’s stress lined her familiar features. “I hope you know that when you get married, I’m not doing anything to help you,” Ronnie sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “I won’t help with the dress or the flowers, place cards, nothing,” by the end of her sentence Ronnie’s smile had defeated her teasing, bringing some affection to her post-drunken eyes. 

“That’s good, I’m glad,” Alethia continued awkwardly, her grip tightening on her thermos. “So you are doing fine, right? Like here in Helios, or in general,” Alethia rambled, looking away. Locking eyes with Ronnie had once been so easy, but now staring into her familiar eyes only brought a heavy guilt that she was trying to leave behind. 

“O-Oh yeah, definitely,” Ronnie nodded. She swallowed the lump wanting to form in her throat, tucking her hands in her denim short’s pockets, trying to gain the courage to look into Alethia’s eyes. When she succeeded, Ronnie noticed, just like Alethia had, how it didn’t feel like it used too. Ronnie hadn’t been this close to Alethia in months, but, yet, she had never felt so distant. She widened her fake smile. “Well, anyways, I’ve got to go and I’m sure you do too–” She cut herself off, starting to walk away. 

Considering that Alethia had to put up with a job she hated five days a week for a rather miserable salary, she was better at putting up a fake smile than Veronica, but that didn’t mean that it was easy. “Really? Were you-uh… was anyone hurt?” Alethia cleared her throat, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alethia’s concern pulled enough at Ronnie’s curiosity to raise her pair of green eyes from the floor. “Oh– no,” she answered quickly, torn between wanting to continue speaking to the artist or the ever-promising sprinting back to New York. She rocked once on her heels. “Everyone was... Fine.” 

Heather chuckled, when Ronnie had walked in everyone had turned around to see the sunglasses wearing goddess, but after she threatened to bite off the heads of those staring, the two were given privacy. “Trust me, I’d take the hangover over my night. I had to skype with the blushing bride.”

“Ew,” Ronnie spat, rolling her eyes under her hand tent. “How’d that go over?” She quizzed, looking up just enough to see their waiter deliver their drinks. 

Alethia left the office promptly at five, not a second before not a second after. She grabbed her bag and left, her straight face softening very subtly when she saw a familiar face outside. “Please tell me you hate your job too.”

“I said it’s amazing that in just a few months, I’ve gained a sister and a brother…in-law. And a nephew. Never thought that would happen to me.”

Veronica peered up to see past the rim of her baseball cap and find Trace’s sweet smile, recognizing it from Michael and Isabelle’s wedding, trying to subdue her grumpy exterior. “You are doing better than me,” Ronnie decided. “All I gained this month was this wicked hangover.” She smiled softly to the brunette to let him know she was joking, then extended her hand. “I’m Ronnie, by the way. You’re... Isabelle’s brother?”

Heather rolled her eyes at Ronnie when the waiter repeated the day’s special for the millionth time. “We’ll both have waffles, bring me a coke and Miss Hangover here, you bring her a green juice, thanks.” She handed the menus back and dismissed the waiter. “Done.”

The fluorescents of the diner prompted Ronnie to fidget with her sunglasses, pushing them closer to her eyes. “I swear to god restaurants are not this bright in New York.” She made a makeshift visor with hands cupping her forehead. “Why couldn’t you have partied with me last night?” She whined. “I like it when we’re miserable together.” 

“Then let’s do a favor to the world and never let those two get to know each other, imagine if they got married and re-populated the Earth with overachievers. Us lazy-ass people would be ruined for life.”

“That’s a brilliant plan,” Ronnie complimented hiding each trace of humor. “Sleeping until 2 PM will prevail!” 

“I wouldn’t know about that, though,” he chuckled. “My sister would, she is one of those people that does everything at school? And she does some musical theatre, or at least she used to do it. Now she is more into science.” 

"Sounds like my brother, Blake.” Ronnie’s eyes glistened with enthusiasm. “He tried it all too. I never understood how he could have so much energy and passion for fucking everything. Half the time I couldn’t even get my ass out of bed.” 

“Another debate? What the hell? Why do you Americans make things so damn complicated, can’t you just vote once and that’s it?”

“Maybe I’ll just move to London. West End theatre is fucking amazing anyways.” 

Oh honey, why would you do that? It’s like a blood bath on the news when it comes to politics. Someone did something and the other skeleton is coming out of the closet.

All they did was talk shit. I swear to god I never even heard the words “healthcare” or  “immigration” once. I don’t even want to vote anymore.