#wakefieldstart

Noah glanced at his wrist as he felt his watch vibrate against his arm, but with the groceries in his hands, he couldn’t see his watch face to see who was calling. Really, it could have been anyone. “Shootballs,” he muttered under his breath, shuffling to the side of the aisle to be out of the way while trying to adjust his groceries without dropping anything enough to actually see the display. Mom flashed across the display on his wrist before the call disconnected. “Crap,” he hissed, frown tugging at his lips.

Open Starter Streets of Wakefield

Teddy had been called over to fix a sink. It wasn’t unusual for tenants and the general population of Wakefield alike to call him when something needed fixing. Word of mouth seemed to do more advertising for him than proper plumbers and other maintenance workers. Sometimes, he didn’t even know the person calling him, them having gotten his number by a neighbor or friend, but he always obliged. “The good news is that the sink is fixed. It was just a rusted coupling nut, but I replaced it.” He told the other. “The bad news is, you’re going to need to clean the hand towel with vinegar or lemon juice to get the stain out.”

The drink he lifted to his lips and took a sip of wasn’t his first for the night but Stefan had no intention of slowing down. Dom would take care of his daughter for the night, and since facebook had this weird way of stuffing memories of the past at his face when all he wanted to do was forget them, here he was, drinking the night away. Served him right for still having that app on his phone in the first place. The smiling pictures of his wife and the reminder that she was dead helped nothing. A sigh left his lips as he called for a refill just as someone took the seat next to him. It was the weekend and he was bound to run into some familiar faces -- and as much as he told himself he wanted to be alone, he would have stayed at home drinking if he hadn’t craves some company to distract him from his own thoughts that night.

“I’m not stress eating,” Lemon huffed, glancing down at the bag of sweets laid out on top of some papers scattered on the table in front of her. Christmas was coming up soon, which meant pretty much all the charities her mother is involved with were doing fundraisers and other events with that theme. Needless to say, Lemon had been quite the busy bee these past few days.  “I just—needed the extra energy, okay?” She shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, reaching for yet another treat and popping it into her mouth. God, she’d gladly give all of her money to Sugar Shack... Aware of the pair of eyes on her, Lemon sighed and looked up at the person sitting across from her. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m stress eating—don’t judge.”

Ophelia had arrived to work early, humming along to the music quietly as she set everything up behind the bar. It boggled her mind knowing that just a year ago, she was nowhere near as lucky as she was since coming upon Wakefield. Her back turned, the young woman perked up a little, thinking on something. “I should get a dog...” She said quietly to herself before turning around, almost startled to see someone there. “What can I getcha, love?”