#nanxschaefer

In the wake of profound helplessness, all Maddox can do is walk the city that's imploded in and of itself. The Hope's spared the worst of it, instead bearing witness to the city they love go into flames. He has his list of people he needs to see with his own eyes. Remember what happened the last time he looked away? He buried his cousin. It's late, nearing midnight, when he arrives outside of the flower shop. Someone in Nan's position would be overrun - more death and dismay than imaginable. Except, there's no light on, and Maddox almost gives up until he sees a blonde head of hair locking up the doors.

"Nan--" He calls out, crossing the busy streets of New York, stopping when the street light catches just so to flash at her person. "Holy -- What the fuck?" Without thinking twice, he closes the space to bruising althroughout her body.

Maddox can't help himself - he worries. For all his bravado and self-certainty, the masquerade brings up the very things he's been running from. Mortality, danger, uncertainty... All of it contributing to his shaky faith. And whether Nan realizes it or not, she's on his list. His first idea is to bring her flowers. But, well, she was the very person he went to for all things floral. So instead, he turns up to her flower shop with a Bridgerton book set (all eight books) and some truffle-and-caviar basket put together by his personal shopper at Erewhon. "Nan, you in here?" Maddox calls out, as the bell rings with his entrance. "It's Maddox. Come out here, i brought you some things."

"Nan!" Amelia's voice cuts through the morning, hustle-and-bustle of Ralph's Coffee. The once-familiar blonde seemed amiss, looking for an open table at the busy cafe during the peak hour. "Do you wanna--" She gestures to the free seat in front of her, already reaching for her laptop bag and coat hanging off it. "I mean, if you want." It's not like she and Nan are exactly girlfriends. Ever since her split from Oisin, their interactions are limited to some social media likes and the occasional run in. Now being a primary example. "How've you been?"

Seemingly out of nowhere, Maddox decided to set up home in Nan's flower shop. Usually seated at a corner during the store's last hours, making light work of fucking ribbons and lace to finish off the arrangements. It's not exactly bar hopping or thrill-seeking, but he likes the peace, certainly likes the girl who's bright and sunny even in the face of it all. "You sick of me yet?" He asks once Nan turns the sign of her storefront to 'closed.' "I know I've been around here a lot, but..." Well, his vices are not just distractions lately. They feel dangerous, reckless really.

It's easy to look at Maddox and think he's performing 'rich, spoiled fuck boy' to a T with his day-old designer clothes and the scent of liquor still on his breathe. Frankly, it's the way he'd like the world to see him. Except, something else is rattling in his brain. Something only Nan can help with. He steps into her flower shop, a familiar spot and line on his credit card statement. "Hey Nan," he nods as he sees her, pulling off his sunglasses. He's been one of her most loyal customers for the last five years. The source of his 'had a great night last night bouquets' and 'I'm sorry I was an asshole arrangements.' Today, however, there's a look about him that's more serious.

"I need your help. I need --" He sighs, clearing his throat. "My family's got their way dealing with things like this..." He taps at the newspaper beside her, the front page detailing of his cousin's dirty deeds. "But I'm not gonna wait to do this for him. I need flowers - for my auntie, for our family house..." Clearing his throat, he nods. "For the funeral."