Having worked the night shift at the hospital, Gavin is only just returning home now, exhausted by his twelve hour shift. Luckily, there weren't too many mishaps with any of the patients he had been watching last night, though he did have to cover for a nurse who was currently on pregnancy leave until her shifts could be better redistributed, so there had been more of a strain to get everything done and under control than normally. What he'd really like right now is to eat breakfast and then pass out for a couple of hours. He won't be having work for another two days, so he'll be able to rest and such, and perhaps go to the bar with a couple of friends tonight. The thought is very tempting, though it takes a backseat to hunger. He normally would've stopped by a fast food place on the way back, but there was too heavy a flow of traffic for him to get to the other side of the road, so he opted to just eat at home.
The man gets into the elevator, which he only uses after working. A few other people get on as well, but most of them will be going down to work, unlike the young man still wearing his scrubs. He steps out at the fourteenth floor, politely wishing the other people in the elevator a good day before walking down to his apartment, which is towards the end of the floor, and therefore has some pretty excellent windows- more than several of the other apartments, since it's on the corner. It's also an apartment that often has people in it, for the residents are considered unofficial leaders and big brothers of the unique medley of people who rent on this particular floor. Of course, that's disregarding any nighttime visitors of a certain roommate with the ability to manipulate others.
Tired, it takes Gavin a second to find the right key before he can finally get access to his own apartment. He closes the door quietly, in case the others are still sleeping, and immediately takes off his shoes, which are always bothersome constraints for him. Keys make a little clinking noise when he hangs them on the hook beside the door, where he always leaves them. No, not leaves them. Puts them. A subtle but important difference, really.
There is a mirror in their front hallway, and Gavin catches sight of himself in it, resulting in him giving himself a once over. Maybe a shower after food, he decides, definitely needing one- not because he's dirty, but because he does have some sweat from running about, and needs something to wash away the night. Besides, he's always rather liked cold showers.
He is walking down the hallway and halfway through taking off his shirt when he notices that they have a visitor. Not an uncommon one, though. Arielle is standing in his kitchen, wearing what appears to be his genius roommate, Tristan's, shirt. He quickly puts his shirt back on and gives her a smile in greeting. "G'morning. You know you don't actually live here, right?" he asks jokingly, for she seems to be over at this place as often as she is at her own apartment. Gavin notices that she is making coffee, but hardly needs some at the moment, as he plans on taking a nap or something. He's been awake for 24 hours straight now, after all. It's hardly an unreasonable desire. First things first, however: breakfast.
Gavin walks past her and to the kitchen fridge, from which he pulls out a plastic container of left over spaghetti. It'll do. After spooning it all into a bowl and sticking it into the microwave, he turns back towards Arielle. "Were you here all night, then?" having left around seven or so last night, he wouldn't really know, of course. He can, however, guess that the answer is yes.
Last night had not been fun at the bar. Well, perhaps it had been fun for some of the customers, especially those who had not associated with the fight, but for the bartender who had to break up 2 fights last night, and deal with the typical round of drunken idiots, it had been less than fun. Normally, she actually enjoys her job, despite the drunks and having to deal with the occasional would-be date rapist when she sees them slipping something into another customer's drink. Last night's fights, however, had been unnecessary and downright irritating- and not helpful to the headache that Nailah had been dealing with already. Of course, she broke up the fights, putting on a show of pulling them apart so that it wouldn't look suspicious when both of the fighters suddenly doubled over in inexplicable pain. One of them had gotten a blow on her when she was focusing on the other, and had gotten a double dose of pain for that. Revenge didn't make the bruise on her jaw go away.
Nailah almost wants to sleep in, which is uncharacteristic for a girl who typically claims that "sleeping in too much makes [her] feel slimy." Still, she pushes herself out of bed. By the sound of it, no one else is up yet. Which means that Arielle is probably at Tristan's house still. The thought merits an eye roll. That relationship is one that Nailah finds silly- both of them seem to be constantly tip toeing around the obvious. For people so intelligent, they sure do know how to make things impossible for themselves, that much is true. It isn't really her business, however, and won't be unless Arielle somehow gets hurt in the tangle. Should that happen, it is an accepted fact, one that not even Arielle can stop, that someone will be getting a very nasty pain all over.
After flicking through the channels to find some documentary on Confucianism in modern China, Nailah grabs a box of cereal and some soy milk [she's not a lactose-friendly person], as well as a bowl, spoon, and mug of hot jasmine tea. She's not much of a person for making breakfasts, content with a muffin or a bowl of cold cereal. The tea is to help her headache, and warm up her body. Nailah always seems to be cold- her hands are naturally cold, and she can feel a chill in an above room temperature space.
What she really wants right now is a cigarette, but she'll push it off until she has eaten. In her most recent attempts to cut back, the young woman has begun setting limits that push back when she can smoke. Not before breakfast is the current effort. Besides, she'll want to shower after she smokes. The girl hates the scent of it, to be honest.
To: Arielle
Morning. You at Tristan's?
She sends the test to Arielle with two intentions- to confirm her suspicions, and to make sure that Arielle is awake. After sending it, the girl leans back in her chair and takes a sip while she listens to the narrator go on about the scholar-gentry class and how it influenced the pressure on education in China.