Snippet #2461966

While Ms. Furman continued, Kaleb’s mind drifted before he could even realize it was happening. His eyes kept scanning over the crowd, jumping across all the faces. There was Juliet beside him, the bar vixen. He had played at a couple gigs she’d tended, and she had always slipped him a few drinks now and again. She always seemed to have someone tailing behind her, like a lost puppy begging for attention. They had never fooled around, much to his own surprise seeing that if given the opportunity he would probably do so. He had a soft spot for blondes though.

Especially a specific blonde that lived on floor 7. As much as he would resist, Kaleb time and time again found himself stealing glances at Jaylene. Kaleb didn’t see her as often as he had initially feared, now when he did find himself around her, he’d often find himself hiding from her, peeking through much like an amazed explorer. Everything about her had changed, the way she carried herself, the way she talked. Perfectly manicured head to toe, dressed like New York Barbie. It was freaky.

Plus he felt a twist in her gut every time he saw her.

He forced his mind to wander, his gaze following. A pair of full lips immediately distracted him. Her dark, full eyes read BORED in bold font and her body language mirrored the message. There was something familiar about the girl, a memory stirring in the back of his mind, framed in filtered sunlight from where she sat, making herself comfortable in a makeshift seat in the window. She was gorgeous, creamy mocha skin and a full shape. He entirely blocked out anything Ms. Furman could be saying, enraptured by the pretty young thing before him. He narrowed his gaze, sure that he knew who she was. It was on the tip of his tongue, he could taste it.

He was digging through his memory, watching the young woman, just on the edge of making the final connection. Just as he could feel her name crawl out of his mind, the startling interjection of a much too familiar voice spoke. Where his landlady had just stood, instead it was the devil herself, poised and perfect. Despite his usual urge to leave as fast as possible, seeing her so open and vulnerable to the stares of others left him enraptured. It was funny to him how despite how much she had changed, he could still read her like a book. Standing tall and confident before them all, Kaleb saw her squirming from within. She looked onto the faces of each one of the EH tenants, skipping over Kaleb’s curious eyes, it was like he didn’t exist. ”...listen, if nothing else, the bar will be loaded and you’ll get party favors. Everyone is seriously welcome. Like I mentioned, your cover charge is on me. Just come out and have a good time. Oh and Hudson, we would kill for a live act. I’d pay you. So, yeah. Thanks.”

He chuckled to himself, ‘You mean you don’t want my band to play?’ He thought to himself, resisting yelling the question across the room to her, put her on the spot, make everyone else see her squirm like he could.

Then he rethought, startled by his malicious thoughts. It had been years since Kaleb had been visited by the darkness, somehow going through the struggle of homelessness and finding a way back on his feet had given him a sense of wholeness and happiness. There was something about having Jaylene around that made him feel like the ghost of his demons fought to resurface, rekindling old emotions and inner rage. Of course she couldn’t have meant that he was invited as well, or she could just be just assuming he wouldn’t shown even if given the opportunity. Throwing his arms over the back of his chair, he leaned back, glancing to Juliet beside him who’s reaction to the invite had been comical enough to warrant a chuckle.

“Yea, I don’t know how I feel about being around that crowd, free drinks or not.” He mumbled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as if in deep thought. His eyes watched as Jaylene walked off the stage and wrapped her arm through Monroe’s once again. “Shiesty people, you think that they’d be above pettiness but most of the time that’s how they trick you.” He left his words hanging in the air, his dry tone letting his quip be interpreted as either a joke or insight. Getting to his feet, he slung his knapsack over his shoulder, walking to where the light skinned shapely vixen had remained, by the window.

He couldn’t help but to run through a variety of greeting, scratching one after another. It almost felt like a movie, his mind in frenzy as he approached the pretty girl, going to overdrive in the last few seconds. Finally he stopped before her, feeling his charm turn on like a switch. He felt smooth, relaxed, pushing his hair back from his face and a handsome smirk lighting his features. He pointed a finger to her as he spoke, “Don’t I know you?” He asked, and as he spoke the words, her face flashed in his mind once again, but instead this time it was in a sketchbook, drawn with charcoal. It had been in the hands of his beloved friend Mordy once when they had spent a night in the cove after a night of doing drugs and drinking too much.

“Dee?” He said, more in a tone of recognition than as a question, a dark shadow passing his expression briefly as he felt the loss of an old friend tug at his heart. He had only met Dee once, after Mordy’s funeral Kaleb had invited her to the cove with him and their friends to mourn for their loved one together in a place where he had been for so many great memories. Even with only having met the girl that one night, Kaleb understood why Mordy had fallen so deeply in love with her. She was beautiful and down to earth, and her smile lit everything up. Was it strange that Kaleb felt a connection with her when he recognized her grief from hopelessly lost love?


He set down his bag, gesturing to himself, “I’m Kaleb, remember I invited you out after Mordy’s...erm..yea.” For some reason he couldn’t spit out the words, then shuffling his feet and looking around as if to find the words to say hanging before him. “Sorry, I just...I knew that I knew you, I just couldn’t figure out how.” He laughed awkwardly. Silence hung between them briefly before he asked, “What are you doing in America?”

In any other circumstances, Patrick would have completely disregarded Barbie’s offer, even if Amil or Kaleb would beg him for hours, but feeling the weight of the unwritten article burdening his beloved laptop, Patrick found the idea of a distraction enticing. Amil finished her pastry beside him, watching Kaleb and Juliet exchange words and then Kaleb straggle to the new tenant that had caught his eye. It was obvious she had to resist rolling her eyes, the same for Patrick. For claiming to love his girlfriend enough to consider proposing to her, he sure sought out other girls often. Amil never minded being a casual fling, there was absolutely nothing romantic between the two. However after the second week Amil had been at EH and Kaleb took her out for drinks, the two would occasionally wake up in one another’s bed. The first month the boundaries were a little fuzzy, but they had worked everything out and considered each other’s friends first. Now and days their encounters happened as few as once every one or two months. The only downside was that Patrick always knew when something had happened between them, somehow sensing it in the air, often calling them out on it. It had become a bit of a joke between them.

“Whore.” Patrick said to Amil, gesturing to Kaleb. Mouth full of pastries, she stifled a laugh, shoving him gently. She nodded in agreement, finishing her tea and taking her dirty dishes to the counter, Patrick following suit. Watching as she walked, Patrick asked himself why he seemed the only one that hadn’t submitted to Amil’s charm. He watched her deep teal hair, slicked into a high ponytail, swish in count with her hips, the tip of her mane tickling the tawny divot along her back from where her slouchy knit sweater had slid. Her mannerisms were endearing, and her crude sense of humor was refreshing. Perhaps it was just that they had never been in a situation to find sexual interest in one another, Amil always seemed to have someone else in her paws, Patrick would usually play the role of wingman.

Tugging her arm, he swerved her in the direction of a mutual friend, Corey. Perhaps it was slight egoism, but he enjoyed having Amil at his side, so that everyone else could see that the pretty tattooed asian girl had decided to hang with the craze haired cynic from 2C. It was like he was sporting the jewel of the ball, anyone who knew Amil liked her, she was friendly and easy going - for her to choose to stick by him over anyone else made Patrick feel just a few ranks higher than the other tenants in a almost humorous way. “What do you think?” He said once they came to Corey, Patrick leaning against the table and holding his laptop under his arm like a book.

Amil plopped in a seat across from Corey, looking to Patrick with an annoyed expression, “You can’t just start a conversation like that, idiot. You’re a writer, use complete sentences.” she bitched, rolling her eyes.

Narrowing his eyes, Patrick stared her down briefly before looking back to Corey with exasperation.”What do you think - about the invitation to the banger?” he said, almost mocking Amil.

Amil crossed her legs delicately, answering before Corey could. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t go, I never go out with people from Empire Heights besides the recluses that barely venture to a dive bar.. oh, and Juliet.” She said with mild humor, referring to Patrick, Kaleb and Corey, all either very busy or a bit of a homebody, although Amil wasn’t sure what Corey would be doing most of the time. She watched him from the corner of her eye, the way the fabric would stretch across his muscles. Smirking, she rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, folding her hands together like a hammock to prop her chin up. Corey had never been dissapointing to Amil, although the whole act of mystery got old quick.

“Well I wasn’t asking you Amil.” Patrick said as she batted her eyelashes at him playfully. Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Amil stood, backing away from the pair.

“Stop talking shit, man.” She said simply, turning on her heel as she walked away, Patrick then taking her spot. He gestured over his shoulder, shrugging mildly, “Always has shit to say.” He joked, remembering why Amil and himself hadn’t been intimate, ever. They’d probably end up killing each other in the process. Shaking his head, Patrick set up his laptop as he peeked back at Corey. “So what’s the verdict, are you going?” He asked.


Amil was planning on swing back to Juliet, maybe the two could help each other pick out outfits and how to do their hair. Out of the lot, Juliet probably was the only one who had similar taste in fashion, so Amil knew if she couldn’t find anything in her own closet, she probably could in Juliet’s. However she had to walk past the notorious dealers of the complex, and in passing it was difficult to avoid eye contact with either boys, although it was when she locked eyes with Spitz a smile cracked across her lips. The blonde who’s name Amil always forgot sat nearby, twisting seductively from where she lain, looking over to Spitz. Turning a chair, Amil sat facing the two, sitting sideways on the seat so that one arm could go over the back of the chair while her legs crossed over one another. “What’s wrong, you can’t say hi to me anymore or something? Your boy got you on a leash that’s too short?” She joked, gesturing to Banksy and winking playfully.

She stuck her thumbs through the holes of her sweater, folding her elbows against her side and gently cupping her own face delicately as she leaned forward with obvious amusement. “So when you say you’ll treat us good...” So close to the two, she playfully trekked her finger tips along Spitz’ leg, mocking foot steps across his jeans. “Does that mean your own product is in the goodie bags as well?” She joked, looking between the two. At the moment of silence, she leaned back in her chair. Aware that as far as they knew, she was clean cut, but she wondered if they would take her words as a joke as she intended. Although depending on how the night went, she wouldn’t exactly turn down a bump or two.

Amil hadn’t gotten on the level of comfortability with Banksy as she had with Spitz, something about his cold eyes left her a little at ill ease. She had heard enough about his violent history and tendencies that had left him with a cloud of danger that was both alluring and left her cautious. Still despite his somewhat friendly demeanor, Amil had played it safe and normally did her share of joking around with Spitz.