Sunshine was just starting to sneak inside her bedroom as Joliesse slowly open her eyes to a new day. One by one and inch by inch, she stretched her arms. She was almost occupying the bed as her muscles pumped, a sign that she was about to start her morning.
A small bark kept on going as a small ball of fur came running inside her room. Penny, her dog was dragging her bedroom slippers around the room. Trying to get Lee's attention.
"Good morning lovely," She greeted the small trouble maker.
Bark!, as if it could talk, Penny laid it's tiny white body on the wooden floor and waited as Lee stood up and wore her slippers.
She picked Penny up and messed with it's head, "I love you too, now if you'll just stop ripping mommy's slippers she'll give you a treat."

Joliesse Porter had been leaving on her own in a Brooklyn apartment for almost a year. So dressing up was never her problem.

Strutting down the huge two-bedroom-one-bath apartment with Penny in her arms, Lee was so comfortable living alone that an old worn out white tee and a panty was her favorite thing to wear. She opened her fridge to get her daily dose of calcium, she found an old and moldy donut sitting at the middle of a huge box. Somehow she can sympathize with the donut's feeling, if it had one. She grabbed the box and dumped it on the trash as she continued to do her morning ritual.
Milk- give Penny her treat- exercise- fix bed- water plants- cultivate their soil- fertilizer- trains and practices her dance steps- eat healthy breakfast- brush teeth- shower and decides on what to do next.

An hour later, Lee decided to pick a cream colored dress over the colorful one. Wore her hair in a ponytail and applied a lip balm. After checking her reflection in the mirror, Penny came rushing with it's leash. Her dog was so smart, it knows when Lee needs to go out.

It made her giggle, leaned over and attached the leash to it's collar. "Alright little champion, you get to go this time." She locked her door after grabbing her satchel bag.
She was halfway from her floor level going to the ground floor when she noticed some movers. They were bringing in furnitures to one of the unoccupied units. Looks like she'll be having a new neighbor. Then it gave Lee an idea she wondered why she never had. She went grocery shopping and bought some flowers.

Upon returning with a paper bag and bunch of flowers, she went and left a stem at each mailbox. It had always been her daily hobby for a couple of months now. Somehow, she hopes that a flower will help start someone's day.

Later that night...

while Lee was still removing her makeup after she performed with a group at the MET for a charity ball, she opened her laptop and logged on to mynewplace.com and other advertisement forums. Clicked and started typing:

Subject: Brooklyn New Yorker in search of a female room mate.

Been in Brooklyn for almost a year and I have decided to open my options for a room mate. If you are in the area and wants to consider here are my conditions:

-Female
-Single
-Okay with a dog (Maltese, a year old)
-Does not smoke or has any addiction
-Showers daily
-Cleans room everyday
-Wash own dishes, pots and pans (I don't mind sharing chores at some point)
-Makes sure that the bathroom is clean after using
-Doesn't let strangers in for one night stands
-Not allergic to flowers
-Pays her part of the rent on time
-No criminal records
-Non psychotic
-No downers
-No late night noises
-Respects other people's belongings and space
*Other things would be discussed over coffee if I say yes to your inquiry*

Apartment looks like this:
*Photo attached*

It isn't so bad in the inside (well in my apartment's case it isn't). Saved some money and actually decided to some wooden/detachable wooden walls to create two rooms and a bath.
Kitchen/dining area:

My room (Just a small space for both of us):

Other room which could be yours (note that there is already a bed provided):

Bath:
We have aSmall space between our rooms (thinking of converting it to a small living room)

Just email me at _____ or call me _____

The sound of the alarm caused Orlando groan. That awful buzzing signaled it was time to get up and moving. He rolled out of bed, shut off the alarm, and hopped in the shower. Taking his time, letting the hot water run over him, Orlando focused on what was to be done for the day. Once he was out he quickly dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a light gray v-neck shirt and a pair of black Converse low-tops; there was no point forcing himself to dress nicer when no matter what happened he always ended up making some sort of mess of himself throughout the day.

After finishing his morning routine he hurried down the three flights of stairs to the ground-level and waved as a school bus passed by. Only then did he realize he'd left the sole purpose of his leaving the apartment this morning up on his nightstand. Quickly he scaled the three flights of stairs back up to his hall and went back into his home. Taking his time he straightened up the place for no particular reason before grabbing his camera and walking back out the door.

Being only 28, many people thought he hadn't experienced life enough to know how to get a great photograph. He didn't understand why you had to experience life to capture it. He knew beauty, he knew pain, he knew happiness and he also knew how to see that in others. He was surprisingly good at reading people, perceptive, intuitive and those, he felt, were great qualities for a photographer to have because he could tell when an emotion was genuine or not. As he walked the few blocks to his studio Orlando snapped a few shots of the people around him; while they'd never know he did it, he sometimes felt like he was cheating them of an opportunity.

Once he'd reached the studio Orlando got right to work. He had some film he still needed to process and edit before the clients got back from their honeymoon. Getting so involved, Orlando worked right through lunch and before he knew it it was already after three. He finished up his last few photos and began cleaning and putting his equipment away. The few blocks back to the apartment always seemed to take longer going home than it did going to the studio. Arriving shortly after 3:30, Orlando checked the mail to find the usual flower stuck to it. That small gesture made him smile and wonder what kind person continued to make him smile day after day. One of these days he'd have to find out who it was and thank them. He waited downstairs until four then headed back up to his apartment where he fixed a snack of apples and peanut butter and flipped on the tv to some cartoon on a childrens channel.

After doing some paperwork, Orlando heard some noises coming from another apartment in the building, signaling to him that new people were moving in. He usually knew about these things seeing as he was the handyman around here. Well, he'd have to be sure and go introduce himself sometime soon in case they needed anything. A little after five he began preparing dinner, spaghetti with meat sauce and garlic bread, always a favorite. Eating with the tv still on, it was a pretty quiet night for Orlando. He got things ready for tomorrow after cleaning up from dinner and then settled down on the couch with the television now changed to a crime drama on one of the network stations. After watching until 11, Orlando decided it was time for bed. He switched off the set and padded over to his bed where he'd thrown curtains off to section it away from the living area. Sleeping in just his boxers, he slipped out of his day clothes and climbed into bed.

After staying in a cheap motel for three nights, Clara was more than ready to find an apartment. And, she was lucky to have found a posting online for a good place in Brooklyn this morning. The girl was looking for a roommate, and Clara met all of the conditions, except for the dog, but she could deal with that. Clara quickly typed up a response:

Hi,
I'm new to town and looking for a roommate to move in with. My name is Clara Hodge, I'm 21 and I meet all your conditions. I'd like to move in as soon as possible, so if we could meet up sooner than later I'd really appreciate it. Either email me back, or you can call me at ###-###-####.
Thanks,
Clara

She really hoped to hear back from the girl soon, she couldn't take much longer in this motel. It smelled like old people, and she heard odd creakings through the night.

Leaving home was really tough for Clara. Her mother thought she was off at school studying Acting at NYU, but really, she'd gone to New York to get away from the rumors, the looks, and the trouble she'd gotten herself into at school. She didn't have the heart or the nerve to tell her mother she'd been expelled from college, so she lied to her and hoped she'd be able to keep it up once she arrived in New York.

After responding to the posting, Clara quickly showered and got ready for a day full of job applications. She dressed in a dark gray flowy skirt that hit her knees and a soft yellow cap-sleeved shirt and paired them with her strappy brown sandals. She tied her long hair back into a low loose ponytail before grabbing her purse equipped with her cell phone, a variety of pens, her wallet with only $20 in it and her chap stick.

She headed downtown, looking for anyone with signs that said "Hiring" or "Taking Applications". She spend from 9am until 5pm talking with people, filling out applications and turning them in. By the time 5pm rolled around, she'd applied to over 15 places and was too overly tired to do anything but go back to the motel and hope she'd heard back from the girl with the apartment.

With groggy vision and a heavy head, Gerard awoke. He found himself slumped on the couch. Rolling over and with a thud he hit the ground, his continuous cursing somewhat echoing throughout his apartment - which at times could be heard by his fellow neighbors - but he didn’t care. He wasn’t happy. Glancing up he caught sight of the time, from a clock which he had forgotten even existed, when the hell did he by a cat clock? Oh, yeah, he liked the swinging tail asset. Gerard was easily amused with any given opportunity. Getting to his feet in a sloppy manner he groaned, by now he had already missed morning. For once he hadn’t guessed such a thing, he really did bypass morning as it was now midday. Gerard Gordon was not a morning person.

With a half hours effort he’d managed to drag his lazy self through a shower, as much as he wasn’t one to care for appearances, he had to seem decent at least. While having a wash he had decided to have a lazy day, though really he would use any excuse to save himself from going outside. A place that appeared to be his immortal enemy for years, the outside world. Gerard struggled to cope with emotions, and struggled more when handling people. He was a human who never understood humans. If someone looked at him he’d panic, feeling just about ready to have a heart attack on the spot, though he never did. Like a coward he ran for the hills the first chance he got.

While he studied his reflection in a mirror, Gerard saw a person who many also saw though never quite welcomed. The freak. That weirdo. Who the hell is that guy. He was Gerard Gordon, the one and only.

At times he felt lonely, so much it pained him too much to watch television - who, some might care to know was Gordon’s best friend - yes, that old little television was his only social connection to the outside world. Unless, when secretly out gathering essentials one of his mentioned fellow neighbors would stop him and chat. He enjoyed these chats, though at the same time was terrified of such a thing.

By now he was hunched over at his small table that sat isolated within his kitchen, like himself it had experienced a few things in it’s lifetime, the good and bad, a few ugly moments and those rare occasions you just can’t remember, until the night after when someone informs you of many regrettable actions. Those were the days. Gerard sat staring at a soggy bowl of cereal, spinning the spoon round and round to create a small tornado in the centre. Pushing it aside he ignored such cheap amusements, half the day was gone and the other half didn’t seem that much different. Another day in, he thought. He believed. He demanded. Not to mention, he didn’t really have much going on at the moment. Really he should be out begging studios to work with him, he would do that tomorrow for sure. He needed the money. Then Gerard remembered that new people were moving in, joy. More eyes to stare at him, he’d be sure to give them a right good welcome.

Sluggishly operating himself, Gerard made sure he took his tablets before doing anything else. If it weren’t for them, he’d be long gone with all the other crazy people. These tablets helped him greatly, giving his fragile mind a sense of ease, though it never lasted long - and he wondered why he ran out of them quickly? - if anything, his trips to the medicine shop were one of his small pleasures in life. Though, he never let on to any of his neighbors why he was on the pills, but he was sure they claimed he was crazy anyway.

Moving over to his front door he checked for any mail, and of course he actually did have some. Bills. Lovely, the big money men were always demanding more money from him. Oh, a flower too. Such a thing always baffled Gerard. Were did they come from? A secret admirer? Or another loony freak on the loose? Maybe he would send one in return sometime, though he never knew who was doing it and…Gerard didn’t get out much, at the very least he did travel out into the landing.

The remainder of the day passed quickly, as usual. Gerard hadn’t bothered to change out of his pajamas, he loved them dearly, and he slept quite a lot. Hanging manically out of one of his windows, Gerard looked to the sky. Another of his secret pleasures was to gaze at the stars, and of course with no doubt, scare away any birds with his trademark response, “Get lost yer flying freak!” Such a thing could be heard continually throughout the night, his poor neighbors. And, if at the window long enough, he was sure to end up falling asleep right there by the window. He often wondered how he managed to not fall out.

On his way home from his day job at a grocery store, Anatoli stopped by his mailbox. As usual, there was a flower waiting for him, which by now he had grown to expect as part of his everyday routine. As he took the stairs up to his floor – elevators always made him feel nervous, and that was when said elevator wasn’t as disconcertingly jolty as the one in the apartment building – the question of who had been placing the flowers there played on his mind again.

In his curiosity, he’d tried waiting in the morning to catch them, but apparently he always managed to miss them, and he’d begun to feel self-conscious hanging around in the hall. So he’d been left to guess at it on his own. He had his bets on the cheery Asian-looking girl he’d seen walking her dog a few times. She smiled a lot, which he knew was probably just friendliness, but he always felt slightly awkward when someone smiled at him for no obvious reason. It made him wonder if he had got some paint on his nose.

Whoever it was leaving the flowers, they may have been surprised to see that they had inadvertently inspired one of his recent paintings. Although this was Anatoli’s artwork, so they might not have been very pleased to see how their gifts had been interpreted. At first glance, the painting looked like it depicted a flower, but on closer examination it became clear that it was actually a crab with it’s pincers ready to snap at the fingers of anyone trying to pick the ‘flower’.

Speaking of his art, he was looking forward to continuing work on an unfinished piece which was waiting for him in his apartment, almost ready to take its place among the many finished paintings which cluttered up his living space, hoping one day someone would think of them as worth buying. He ate his supper quickly, leaving a good portion of it in the fridge for later, before putting on his painting smock and settling down to work. As he concentrated, he chewed on the inside of his cheek, which was a habit he often slipped into without realising it while his mind was on his painting. Sometimes when the weather in New York got particularly cold and dry, his lips would chap and he’d find himself nibbling on them. He bit his nails as well; someone had once said he was like a compulsive snacker, a comparison Anatoli found amusing, since he was skinny as a rake.

He was roused from his work by the sound of a shout from outside. He jumped, startled at the noise, like a sleeper unexpectedly woken from a dream. From past experience, he knew it was probably his British neighbour, but Anatoli knew that if he didn’t check it would bug him for the rest of the night. So he walked over to the window, cautiously poked his head out and looked up and down for the source of the shouting. As he expected, his neighbour was on his balcony, shouting at the birds. He sighed, glad to have it confirmed that no one was telling him to get lost. Contrary to Gerard’s expectations, he didn’t really think of him as crazy. Anatoli was usually too busy worrying about looking weird himself to focus on other people’s peculiarities. Sometimes he wondered if everyone felt like they stuck out like sore thumbs as much as he did.

Audrey Nicole Stevenson stirred awake in the comfort of her small apartment, sunlight already starting to seep past her windows as she was greeted to a new day. A soft grown escaped her lips, opening her eyes slowly, as she faced the empty side of her bedroom wall. Her legs were sore under the comfort of her bedroom covers, pleading her to stay in bed a while longer. She didn't know why she felt so sore, but stayed in bed a while longer, falling in and out of sleep before waking up again. The clock read to be exactly 8:30 the second time around, and she slowly sat up on her bed before getting ready for work. In about an hour, Audrey was scheduled to head over for a dance class in the town hall. She spent about an hour or so there volunteering, and taught a local group of kids. It wasn't exactly a job, but she was able to get some sort of paycheck from them. Teaching at the town hall was the first job Audrey was able to get when she first moved to New York, about 7 months ago, and she wanted to keep the job for as long as she could. Classes were only once a week, which fit in perfectly with all her other jobs.

Audrey stalked over to the bathroom, standing over the sink as she washed off her face, and looked over to her reflection. A small defined face stared back at her, dirty blond hair tangled and unruly as she quickly ran a comb through them, and her brown eyes slightly alert for early in the morning. After combing her hair, Audrey stepped out of the room, only having to travel a few feet before reaching the kitchen. She didn't have any roommates since her apartment was so small, which Audrey didn't mind much since she was used to being alone. She headed over to the small fridge in the middle of the kitchen, taking out a cartoon of milk. She headed to the cupboards for her cereal bowl, and took out a container of Honey Nut Cheerios. As she prepared her breakfast, she took a seat by the table quietly. By the time Audrey had finished, she had already started to change. She stalked over to the closet in her room, picking out a pair of navy sweatpants and a solid pink tank top for class today. She found her grey string bag, and folded the clothes inside. She had a good 20 minutes left, and quickly changed into a pair of denim skinny jeans, and a washed out vintage t-shirt before slipping on her shoes. She tossed her a pair of sneakers into her bag, and grabbed the keys before leaving.

Arriving about 10 minutes later, Audrey got off the city bus before heading inside. She was a few minutes early, but found most of her students already at the studio. She dropped her bag by the corner, quickly changing into the clothes she'd brought inside the bathroom. Today, she decided they'd work on a little hip hop. The dance class was pretty versatile, and most of the students were younger kids, about 7 or 8 years old, who were just getting into dance. She knew that even through her students were so young, they were all pretty talented. She wouldn't expect if most of them turned out to be a professional dancer one day.

After class, Audrey chose not change back into her jeans. She took the bus again, this time heading for the city. She checked her cellphone for the time, deciding that she still had a couple more hours before heading to her next job. As well as a dance teacher, Audrey worked at a karaoke bar. She only worked there about three times a week, and with a five hour shift. As well as that, she also worked as a wedding singer. She was pretty active when it comes to earning money, since she had to struggle to pay her apartment rent. That was especially recently, since she was having trouble making ends meet. What she wanted the most out of all her jobs, was to work on Broadway. Ever since she was little, that had always been her dream. After graduating college, she went to chase after her dreams. She had moved from her hometown of Philadelphia, to state of New York. She was sure that after being a music major all throughout high school and college, that she would have some sort of chance of making it.

After her job at the karaoke bar, Audrey decided to head back home. She picked up her mail by the post office before leaving, and took about fifteen minutes before arriving home. By the time she got there, the sun was already starting to set and the day was beginning to close. Audrey sighed, throwing her bag over by her bed. She already knew that the mail were mostly bills, and didn't bother to open them. She walked over to her laptop, which was set over her dresser, to check if she had gotten any email from her friends back home. She logged onto her Yahoo messenger account, seeing an email about a roommate opening nearby. It was from an old website that Audrey had joined long before she moved, back when she was still in Philly. Before she decided to get her own place, she had originally planned to split a place with a roommate. After months of no avail, she finally saved enough money to have her own apartment, at least that was what she thought then. Seven months now, and even with all the jobs Audrey took up, she was didn't think she could make it on her own with the rent for much longer.

Audrey opened the email notification out of interest, logging into the site, and read the qualifications. After much debate, Audrey sent a reply:

Re: Brooklyn New Yorker In Search of A Roommate

I am looking for a new place, and am interested in taking up your offer. My name is Audrey, I am 23 years old, and currently live in a small apartment near the city. I read through your article, and I'm fairly sure I meet all your requirements. If no one else has shown interest yet, contact me with this email or call me at 1(###)-###-####. We can talk about it more than.

Thanks,
Audrey

OOC: Outfit---- http://img.listal.com/image/1304364/600full.jpg Heath will come in my next post once lovechanningforever posts for Riley.

IC: New York was alive with the sound of rushing people and honking cars when Bella awoke on the uncomfortable pull-out couch. Her cool blue eyes squinted at the bright early morning light that seeped through the drapes of the window, casting warm golden rays upon her scattered belongings. Her instrument cases lay next to her bed and she instantly felt guilty for not practising the night before, but she had had to work until late. Next to them sat two large suitcases, clothing spilling out of them and onto the scuffed up old wood floors of the room, and a few pairs of shoes. It was hard to believe that it had been two months since... well, things were certainly different now. She was in New York and was a totally different person than she had been two months prior and she was happy for it.

"Morning, B."

Bella turned her head lazily and gazed over the arm of the couch towards the kitchen, which was no more than two feet away, to see her new friend Stacy. She looked very hung over and her curly blond hair frizzed around her face like she had been electrocuted before coming to the kitchen to make coffee. Stacy worked at the burlesque club where Bella had managed to snag a job. After hearing that Bella had no place to go Stacy had offered her to stay at her place for the time being, but a week long stay had turned into two months. Finding an affordable apartment in New York was nearly impossible and Bella hadn't been expecting that. Fortunately, Stacy was easy going and assured Bella that she was welcome for as long as needed. She had applied for a number of apartments over the last two months, but had yet to hear back from any of them.

"Morning!" Bella called back, stretching her long arms over her head and accidentally knocked her new phone off the side of the couch. It fell to the floor with a loud bang, which Bella echoed with a loud curse and then reached over to pick it up. It was a new phone with a new number, and she had just gotten used to writing down her new number instead of the old. She noticed it was flashing red, a notice that she had missed a call or message, and checked the screen to notice someone had left her a message.

"Please let it be about an apartment. Please let it be about an apartment." Bella chanted under her breath as she hit the button to receive the voice mail. Stacy was a fine roommate, but Bella was getting a little tired of her late night visitors and had given up trying to keep track of their names.

"Hi miss Colosimo! This is Jerry from Brooklyn Heights apartments that you applied for a room at. We have an opening that is ready to be moved in to as soon as possible. Give me a call back if you're still interested."

There was a click as the message ended and Bella grinned and jumped up from the bed, nearly tripping over her stuff scattered around in the small room, and raced towards Stacy "I got the one in Brooklyn!" She shouted, playfully snatching the cup of coffee from the older girl's hands and taking a big sip of the scalding hot liquid. Stacy winced at her loud voice in the tiny room, grabbing the cup back, but offered her a smile, "Great, now you can get out of my hair." She said teasingly, sticking out her tongue at Bella as she quickly returned Jerry's call.

Jerry explained that she could move in today if she wanted (which she did want), and that it may not have be as nice an apartment as the other ones she had seen in the building. Bella was too elated to even care about this minor detail, and quickly called up a moving company that Stacy had suggested. She had a few hours before they would arrive and she had no furniture to move into the building, so she decided to go to some of the used furniture stores that were located a few blocks away. She convinced Stacy to join her, after bribing her with a free lunch, and quickly changed from her tank top and boxers to a casual outfit: Thin printed t-shirt, loose white jeans, thin brown belt, brown gladiator sandals, wooden bead necklace, thick wood bracelets, and a pair of purple tinted sunglasses. Also, she wore her diamond and pearl ring on her right hand which she never removed. She ran a hairbrush through her thick dark hair and dashed out of the apartment, dragging a reluctant Stacy with her.

She had a limited budget but managed to get a bed and mattress (no bed bugs, thank goodness), new sheets, a dresser, a small table with two chairs, night table, and a lamp for next to the bed. The rest of the day went off without a hitch, with the movers meeting her at the store to pick up the furniture before the went back up a few blocks to pick up her instruments and suitcases. After she was all packed up she gave Stacy a hug and thanked her for her kindness, which Stacy shrugged off.

"Whatever, babe, don't worry about it. I'll see you at the club tonight and don't be late, you're starting to draw in some regulars and I'm sure you could use the cash for your new place." She said, dropping the tall brunette a wink, before disappearing back into her apartment.

After half an hour of driving, the moving truck arrived at her new apartment. She went and got the keys from Jerry and raced ahead to open the room for the movers. She didn't run into anyone in the hall way, but did notice flowers next to all the mailboxes and frowned at the beautiful blossoms. They were the same kind that... "Forget about it already, Bella." She hissed to herself under her breath and dashed up the stairs to her new place.

Her frown turned into a bemused smile as the door opened, revealing the gigantic apartment. Jerry hadn't been lying that this one was not as nice as the one she had been shown, but she liked it anyways. There were no real walls, except for the four outer ones, but there were wooden frames jutting out here and there to suggest where rooms might be made. White sheets had been piled in the corner to be thrown over them, if she wished. The appliances in the kitchen looked older than she was but looked like they would work. The same could be said for the bathtub, shower, sink, and toilet that sat at the back of the apartment (this was the only enclosed space, thankfully, but the door hung off the hinges- she'd have to have someone fix it).

After an hour, all of her furniture and belongings had been moved into the apartment. She followed the two men to her apartment door and handed them the cash she owed for their services, "Thanks a bunch guys." Bella said, leaning casually against the door frame with her dark hair spilling over her defined shoulders.

"You know, babe, we could call it even if you invite us in for a bit. We could make an exception for you." The taller of the two said in a gruff voice as he leaned in towards her.

The old Bella would have blushed and stammered a no thankyou, not wanting to say anything inappropriate or unkind, but the new Bella's eyes darkened in disgust and annoyance, "Well, I'm not willing to make an exception for you asshole. So piss off and take your money before I call the cops." She said, pleased with the surprised expression that crossed the man's face, and shut the door loudly before they could respond. She locked it and walked across the room towards the shower, already forgetting about the disgusting movers, and quickly went about getting ready for work. Her shift started in two hours, but she still needed to get down to the club and get her hair and makeup done for her act.

After taking a shower she threw on her clothing from earlier and dashed out the door, unable to enjoy her new apartment until tomorrow, and hailed a taxi. Working at a Burlesque club was something that Bella had never expected to do but she actually enjoyed it and found it very liberating. Plus, the owner had taken a liking to her after he had heard her singing while getting ready. He was smitten with her voice and, whenever they needed a break between acts, he sent her out with the band to sing and charm the crowd of men that swarmed the club night after night. Sure, it wasn't her dream job but it was a step in the right direction.

After her shift, during which she dressed in a sailor's outfit, little red riding hood, and a pin-up style polkadot dress, she made her way home and dashed back up the stairs and into her apartment. Again she met no one in the halls and wondered if everyone was always working or just socially awkward and stayed in their apartments all day. She hoped that she would meet someone in the morning, perhaps someone that could help her fix the door to her bathroom.

Stripping off her clothing and jewellery, Bella slipped into a black shirt and into her new bed (much more comfortable than the pull-out), then fell asleep in an instant with her diamond and pearl ring sparkling in the light of New York's night glow.

Waking up the next morning, Orlando went through his usual routine. Shower, dress, breakfast. He then went down the stairs, and waved to the bus that passed by at it's usual time; Orlando was a creature of habit. He knew it was very early, not quite 7:30am, but he still wondered why he never ran into any of his neighbors. Shaking his head, he headed back up the stairs to his place where he rummaged through his desk to find a notepad and a pen. He quickly scribbled a note:

Welcome to the apartment building,
I'm Orlando Mancini, the building maintenance guy. If you have any issues with your apartment, or if anything needs fixing just let me know.
Give me a call at ###-###-#### or come by my apartment, 3C.
I'm usually there after 4pm daily, and can be reached by phone anytime.
Again, welcome to the building.
Orlando Mancini

Orlando copied this message on several sheets as well as creating a version of the note for current residents:

Hey there,
It's Orlando, the maintenance guy for the building. Just wanted to remind you that if you have any issues with your apartment, or if you need anything fixed to let me know.
###-###-#### or apartment 3C.
Call me whenever or come by after 4pm daily.
-Orlando

It had been a while since he'd gotten any requests for repairs, so he figured it couldn't hurt to remind everyone. After writing several copies of that note, Orlando began trailing up and down the floors, slipping the correct version of the notes under each of the doors. Once he'd made sure each of the occupied apartments received a note he headed back to his. Grabbing his camera, he decided to skip the studio and go to the park. He could probably get a few great shots since there would be runners and people walking their dogs this early in the morning.

After snapping a few great photos around the park, Orlando headed to the grocery store to pick up a few essentials then headed back home. Late afternoon had arrived and it was about time for Orlando to see that bus again. He waited downstairs until it arrived then ascended the three flights of stairs back to his place. Routine. That was what he lived for.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr Finnegan," said the Theater Director, nasally. "It's not suitable, and that's that!"

Philistine bastard, thought Shan Finnegan under his breath. But this was Cornelius Garrity, Director of The Enclave, one of New York's liveliest and most highly rated independent theaters. Lose his goodwill, and you might as well borrow a cardboard box and take to living on the streets. Or, even worse, get a proper job!

"Mr Garrity, I worked hard on this play," Shan insisted. "And you more or less implied that you'd stage it, when you heard the outline."

Cornelius Garrity sighed. "Mr Finnegan, please understand. It's nothing personal. My job is to keep this establishment afloat. If a play isn't a commercial success, we drop a packet! And don't give me that usual argument of yours about good art transcends all. Your idol, Mr Shakespeare, I think you'll find, would agree with me rather than you."

Knowing what he did about Shakespeare's philosophy and history, Shan was forced to concede the point.

"In any case," Garrity continued. "I didn't say I wouldn't stage it at all. It is a good play, with some biting things to say about contemporary society. Acts 1 and 3 are exquisite. It's the second act that causes me problems. The references to literature and painting will go way over the head of the typical new York audience. All that stuff about T S Elliott and Mathew Arnold. Look, Mr Finnegan, you've got a good play here, it's a story that draws you in. It'll have a long run, but you do need to zing it up - make it more commercial. In its present form, it'll be lucky to last a week. That last thing you did, now, "The Loose Traveller-"

"Louche traveller. There's a - "

"Loose, Louche, whatever. The critics panned it, audiences ignored it. If you were a big name, we could take a chance on you. As it is, you live on the edge. If we stage another of your works, it has to be a success, or your career's finished - which will be sad for me, for I do see your talent - and my theater is finished, which will be extremely mortifying for me. In my position you'd take the same line.
"So what you need to do is this. Take the manuscript home, rewrite it in accordance with my suggestions, and represent it. I am not - repeat, not - giving up on you. But neither will I send the theater into bancruptcy just to indulge you. You understand?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Wandering the streets an hour after his unpleasant interview with the Director, Shan had to admit to himself that Garrity had a point. The play did lack the elements needed for commercial success. "Waves," his previous work, had been able to carry off its slightly esoteric air, as it had shown mainly to arty-farty audiences in backstreet, University-sponsored houses. That, too, would have sunk like a stone in The Enclave. And he hadn't said forget it - just make some changes.

Well, that was all very well, but it would take at least a week of hard graft to get the work into a form that Garrity would expect. And then, if the play began a run, another week or so before any income started trickling in. And his reserve had just about run dry. Well, there was no doubt, expenses would have to be cut to the bone. No more aged wines and exquisite French dishes in fancy restaurants. No more single-malt Scotch. His room att he hotel would have to go, for a start.

He was passing an internet cafe, and decided his regime of economy had better start sooner or later. Over a cheeseburger and coffee, he began to scan the ads for cheap apartments. Most were far outside of his price range, and wouldn;t have saved significantly on the hotel.

He was about to give up, when an ad caught his eye. Brooklyn. Hmm - well, beggars couldn't be choosers, after all, as Mr John Heyward had once said.

- - - - - - - - - -

"When I'm a famous supermodel, I've a good mind to buy this place, and demote that girl to making coffee!" said Sian Mckenzie to herself, shifting on the hard seat. They'd been three girls come in after her, to the casting agency, and they'd all been called in before her. The young assistant, an up-herself-cow who wore sunglasses, even inside, far too much make-up, and a top cut so low it was obscene, had sniffed arrogantly when Sian had introduced herself, and told her to take a seat without even looking at her. "So, who the fuck is she to be making decisions about who's suitable," she snarled inwardly. "And hasn't she ever heard of 'Nibylne' eye make up? By the look of her, she's been keeping the company going single-handedly for the last year!"

She sighed, and wriggled in the chair. To make things worse, the boy opposite was looking up her skirt, she was sure of it. The dress was a designer number in a deep green, and she'd worn it to impress. Unfortunately, it looked like impressing in the wrong way - no matter how much she tried to keep still, it persisted in creeping up along her thighs, and since she'd sat down she'd spent the whole time tugging and yanking it back into place. No sooner would she pull it down, than it would shoot right up again! Oh, why did every material manage to ride up on her? Most of the other girls had been wearing skirts far shorter than hers, yet when they sat down their hems stayed perfectly in place. It wasn't fair!

She grabbed the hem at the front with both hands and tugged violently. Then repeated the action at various points around the hem, willing the skirt to stay in place. The male model who'd been looking at her panties seemed amused, and not for the first time Sian wished she had enough cool to make a cutting remark, instead of which she was reduced to desperately fighting down her blush, the curse of a pale-skinned redhead. She yanked the skirt down again, and sighed - she could see it visibly moving upwards. But now, at least, miss pseudo-goth had returned, now she might at least get a chance to show what she could-

"Miss, urm, Tendon?"

"Tendril!" snapped Sian, blushing even harder. She stood up as gracefully as she could manage, but spoiled any cred she might have gained by having to wriggle her dress back down again.

"Miss Tendril, I'm sorry," said the assistant, in a voice that showed unmistakeably that she wasn't the slightest bit contrite. "Just to inform you we don't need any more models for this shoot. Thank you for your interest."

Sian gathered her bags, yanked down the dress again, and walked from the building, putting one foot in front of the other, her hips swaying in perfect catwalk fashion. Damn it, another chance gone. If she didn't find work soon, she'd be starving in the gutter. Already she was three weeks overdue at her expensive studio apartment. Well, they'd have to be changes made there, for a start. reluctantly, she conceded she'd have to start scanning the accommodation ads as soon as she got home.

Riley woke from his phone's vibrating. Someone was clearly trying to call him as the sign of 8 missed calls flashed in front of his phone's screen. He was half awake when he opened one eye to peak at the time, the wall clocked said 8:30 causing the poor guy to literally jump out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush his teeth as well as skipping with one foot trying to put on some socks that he had clearly worn yesterday already.

The restaurant expects him at 9 am and it takes him forever to go from Brooklyn to Manhattan. He never knew how people find it easy to travel with such population and traffic. He saw pieces of crumpled paper on the floor next to a heaping pile of paper in the trash can. Heath... He thought. his roommate might have spent hours scribbling poems on their couch. Another evidence was the dirty mug on the small four seater "dining table" Heath decided to build for their apartment in order to save more money instead of buying a new one.


He took the responsibility of washing the mug even before rushing his ass trying to catch the earliest train by the subway. Left a note and zipped his way out of the apartment, not bothering to use the elevator. He left him a note saying, "Running late, see ya later." He was about to exit when a loud voice caught his attention. His bizarre neighbor were trying to shoo the birds away when he bumped into a mover who was carrying a box. The contents spilled everywhere, it made him blush to see some female underwear inside a box. He smiled sheepishly at the guy and shouted his apology. He figured the guy would know he was in a hurry.

Hurrying for a ticket, Riley breathed a sigh of relief for catching the train. Good thing the metro doors were just starting to close when he got in. Unfortunately, he bumped into a guy wearing a very stylish suit and carrying a briefcase. "I'm so sorry," He almost squeaked, which looked and seems crazy for a guy as tall as he is.
"No problem man," The guy gave him a wink and smiled.
It felt awkward for Riley to be standing next to the guy when the whole time, he was staring at him. Riley intended to read his phone's old messages just to make his self look busy but in the corner of his eye he could still see the guy eying him intently. The doors opened, it was a good time for him to sneak out as he arrived at his destination.

Riley went pass through the throng of New Yorkers as his feet got sore trying to fight the 2 minutes he has left before his head chef cut his head with a butcher knife.

5 minutes...

after, Riley was facing the look he was dreading to see the whole time he was working for this fine dining restaurant.
"Johnson..." Were the only words that welcomed him. All the other sous chef were trying their best not to look at him. "In my office," Chef Anouis was the last person anyone would want to mess with, let alone disappoint because you are 3 minutes late.

Later that day...

Riley opened their apartment door with a very strong stench of onion. Apparently, his first offense meant he had to peel, chop, grate or do everything that has got to do with garlic and onion. He bet even a Twilight fan would fear coming close to him within 10 feet. It didn't help that almost everyone at the subway was snickering behind him.

"Heath?" He called out. All the light were turned off, making their apartment seem like a ghost town. Now where could his best friend be?

OOC: http://tinyurl.com/3b6npnr --- Rooftop Patio.
http://tinyurl.com/3mvln6c --- Heath's room
It is currently FRIDAY! I know some people are at Friday morning and others are at Friday around four, so please don't skip to Saturday. We want to try to be on the same day and time together.
I will post for Bella after we are all at supper time-ish. Heath is going to organize a party on the rooftop for tonight, so he will slip notes under your doors later on today. ;)

IC: Heath had spent the night on the couch writing. Well, he had spent it attempting to write... Writer's block had reared it's ugly head and had been holding his creativity hostage for over a week now and it seemed that no matter what he did, he couldn't even write a half decent haiku. Sheet after sheet of paper passed through his hands, ink blotting it with half formed thoughts and ridiculous rhymes, until the garbage bin over flowed onto the floor as though to mock him. The clock in the kitchen read "4:35 " in the morning, ticking away menacingly as he groaned in annoyance. Nothing inspiring had happened to him lately and that needed to change. He hadn't made an effort to talk to anyone new, spending the majority of his time with his notebook and Riley, and thought that maybe he should make the effort to go out and socialize. He had heard Jerry, the manager of the building, talking about how some new tenants were moving in. Perhaps he would introduce himself? Better yet...

He would invite everyone upstairs onto the roof patio for drinks. If he could convince the other tenants in the building to come, he would be sure to get at least a little material for his writing. There were some very peculiar (though nice) people that lived in Brooklyn Heights, but unfortunately he never seemed to run into any of them.

Sleep tugged incessantly at his eyes, forcing a deep yawn from his mouth, so he decided to get into bed. He'd figure out the rest in the morning and see what Riley thought of it. So, he pushed himself off the couch and walked across the small room to his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed without bothering to change or even shut the door. He fell into such a deep sleep that he didn't even hear Riley's mad rush to get to work in the morning, and slept right through all the noise.

He finally awoke to the sound of movers in the halls and stretched in the small bed, breathing in deeply the smell of old books and ink that filled his room. The drapes that usually blocked out the sun were drawn open, letting the late afternoon light flood his over stuffed room. The large tack board beside his bed was covered in little sheets of paper with ideas, newspaper clippings, and even individual words. Besides his door and the small space allocated for an ancient looking desk, the rest of the walls were stacked from floor to ceiling with books and stacks of his own writing. He owned endless amounts of books, likely more than anyone else in the building combined. The bookshelves were made of dark wood and very obviously hand made and not made by a place like IKEA.

Heath rolled from the bed and quickly showered, brushed his teeth, and changed into a pair of old jeans and a white loose dress shirt which he left untucked. He spotted the note from Riley and frowned slightly, knowing that Riley's job was not one that you could be late for. He hoped the younger man wouldn't be in too much hot water and made a mental note to try to be home when he got off work. Heath had a few days off from work because he had finished off his week's worth of slogan writing in two days, which only added to his disgust with himself for not being able to write anything decent. Sure, a slogan for Vince's dry cleaning was no problem.... ridiculous.

Not bothering to do anything with his unruly golden hair, Heath grabbed his favorite book of poetry and made his way up to the rooftop patio where he spent the rest of the day and evening reading it intently. He had read the ancient looking book dozens of times, but enjoyed it so much that he didn't mind reading it again. Time slipped by without Heath noticing and he continued to read into the late hours of the night, reading by the harsh glow of the city lights. Eventually he dozed off on the rooftop, laying down on the wooden bench.

He awoke the next morning, a little confused to find himself staring at a bright blue sky. The crisp morning air alerted him to the fact that it was still quite early, perhaps only six am. Heath sat up from the bench, feeling stiff from the wood but also rejuvenated and alert, and quickly descended the stairs from the rooftop to the top most floor, the fourth floor, where his apartment was. He opened the door to 4B and quietly placed his book in his bedroom before returning to the kitchen. Riley would be waking up soon, but he had enough time to whip up a breakfast as an apology for disappearing the previous night. Heath often disappeared from time to time, getting wrapped up in his writing or seeking new thrills for inspiration, and he had the feeling that it worried his kind roommate.

Riley had given him a few cooking lessons, and while Heath was far from amazing he had at least become competent. Still clothed in his old jeans and a now rumpled white dress shirt, Heath rolled up the sleeves of the shirt and brushed his long blond hair from his coffee-brown eyes and began cooking. The smell of waffles, bacon, eggs, and fresh coffee filled the apartment and just as he began to place the plates on the small table, he heard Riley's alarm ring in the other room.

Smiling, he placed the final plate of waffles on the table and called down the hall, "Breakfast time, mate!". His voice was deep and masculine, the Australian accent hugging his words.

The heavenly taste of breakfast mixed with the intense smell of good brewed coffee woke Riley a few seconds even before his alarm clock went off. He was about to scratch his sleepy eyes when the whiff of onion and garlic still lingered in his hands. He did his best to scrub off the smell last night before going to sleep. Even the rub you hands with a metal trick but somehow the smell stayed like a punishment.

"Breakfast time, mate!" A husky voice helped Riley to welcome the day despite the smell in his hands.

He got up and changed his clothes, good thing he already prepared everything last night in the fear of running late again. "Be there in a while dude." He called out and stared at his self in the mirror, grabbed his large toothed comb and worked on his curly hair. Riley was never fond of hair net, but it was a requirement at work, so his hair has got to suffer six grueling hours of heat, steam and hair net under his toque.

He opened his bedroom door, welcomed by Heath's gourmet breakfast. He wondered where the lad had been the yesterday. He left the apartment without his presence and fell asleep without noticing any tracks left by his friend.
"Bribing me?" He smiled coyly at Heath. "You know Bacon works all the time. So where the heck have you been all day?" He invited his self over at the thick man made dining table, care of Heath himself as well, and attacked the platter of Bacon. He chewed with a strip hanging from his mouth as his two hands got busy with filling his plate with the rest of Heath's cooking.

He heard a barking at the other apartment, must have been their neighbor and her dog. He found the little guy cute, but never in his dreams thought of getting a pet for himself.

It has been a whole day before Lee had come back home. She spent a whole day at "work" and was really exhausted to even bother eating breakfast. An idea flashed on her mind while she was about to go home so she went to a 24 hour hardware store to buy a few buckets of paint, picked Penny from the doggy day care, and picked her daily bouquet of flowers.

The sun was just starting to shine, the only people left in the street of Brooklyn are those who have come home from a party or from work. She knew the rest of New York's population is still snoring under their covers. She opened the building's ancient doors, placed her plastic of bucket paints on the floor and left a flower on each apartment mailbox. Penny was obviously still sleepy, on the other end of the leash, it has spread it small body on the floor and began closing her eyes as Lee did her daily routine.

Lee tugged on Penny's leash as she picked up her paint buckets, mail under her left armpit, bouquet of her flowers and Penny's leash in on her right hand. The puppy lazily followed her towards the old service elevator then heavily spread it's body across the floor again. Lee pressed 4 and waited for the lift to bring her to her floor. The whole building was quite as solace yet Lee was bursting with ideas on what she could do with the small space between the two rooms in her apartment.

As she arrived in front of her room, 4E, her hand went blindly fishing for her keys in her right pocket. When she found them, she inserted her key and twisted the knob. Penny hurriedly rushed to it's doggy bed and didn't bother to wait for Lee to come inside or to remove her leash. It made Lee giggle, her dog can really have an attitude at times. She placed her flowers on top of the kitchen counter together with the mail as she carried the paint into the small space she was ready to conquer when her phone bleeped. There was an email coming in, so she opted to open her laptop in her room so she could check it better.

After logging in, Lee found herself on her bed and browsing on her email. She found some spam mails and 3 response to her "looking for roommate" post:

Hi,
I'm new to town and looking for a roommate to move in with. My name is Clara Hodge, I'm 21 and I meet all your conditions. I'd like to move in as soon as possible, so if we could meet up sooner than later I'd really appreciate it. Either email me back, or you can call me at ###-###-####.
Thanks,
Clara

and another:

Re: Brooklyn New Yorker In Search of A Roommate

I am looking for a new place, and am interested in taking up your offer. My name is Audrey, I am 23 years old, and currently live in a small apartment near the city. I read through your article, and I'm fairly sure I meet all your requirements. If no one else has shown interest yet, contact me with this email or call me at 1(###)-###-####. We can talk about it more than.

Thanks,
Audrey

And another bizarre reply from a girl who obviously has issues with mental health. She deleted the last one and went through the other two. She sent each a reply on where and when to meet that day.

Re: Re: Brooklyn New Yorker In Search of A Roommate

Glad to know there are normal people who could actually be a potential roommate. Sorry if it took me a while before responding, I had to be at work the whole day yesterday. But I'm happy to inform you that I am considering in meeting you today. I'll be available from 3pm to 7pm, just send me a text message on what time I could meet up with you at Serendipity 3 at 60th street. Maybe we could discuss other things over some sheperd's pie.

Text me at ####-###-###. Will be waiting for you.

Lee

Looks like, Penny will be spending an afternoon at the doggy day care while she tries to build her apartment a living room.

Shan spent the day in Central Park with his laptop, working on act #3. To his frustration, some fantastic lines of dialogue came to him, but he couldn't make them fit in with the tone of the rest of the act. One of the lead characters would have to be totally rewritten, he saw, and at least one other character drafted in, to make the changes that Garrity wanted. Towards evening, he gave up, and wandered disconsolately back to his hotel. He looked around the room longingly - he wouldn't be able to stay here much longer.

he decided to wander along to the apartment block in Brooklyn that he'd seen advertised - if it looked half OK, he'd see if they had any rooms available. If not - well, if he had to look at the screen of his laptop for another five minutes, he'd hurl the &^%^^&** thing across the room!

- - - - - - - - -

"Oh no, not again," moaned Tendril under her breath, glancing down at her knees.

She'd decided a few hours window-shopping (it was all she could afford) might take her mind off her problems, and accordingly had sallied out into the city. She'd taken her usual care about dressing, with a brown designer leather skirt that fell to just above her knee, a white silk blouse, a cloth jacket in a light fawn color, neutral colored ribbed tights, and her new brown boots, that she'd bought the first day she'd arrived in New York. She'd been worried they'd be uncomfortable, but to her great relief they felt beautiful, which renewed her determination to make it big, and acquire a whole closet of similar footwear.

No, the problem wasn't the boots, but the tights. Between the hem of the skirt and the top of the boots, a few inches of her slim knees were exposed. What onlookers should have seen was a few inches of smooth, perfectly aligned ribbing, as befitted a perfectly attired, soon-to-be supermodel. Unfortunately, the tights seemed determined to let her - and the ensemble - down. Every time Tendril bent down, or sat (as she'd done on the bus), or even walked at all quickly, the tights would ride downwards, collecting in unattractive bunches around her knees where the excess material came to rest at the top of the boots. Other girls, secure in the knowledge that their tights fitted them perfectly, had been giving slyly amused glances at her knees all day. After a few hours, Tendril had been seething with frustration and embarrassment. She'd made at least four trips to conveniently-sited washrooms to haul the damn things back into place, and now she'd had to sprint across the road as the lights changed, and the confounded things had wrinkled again - and not a washroom in sight!

Furtively she looked around, and then, with her back to the street, began discreetly tugging the tights back into place. Some girls, she knew, would have brazenly pulled them up in full view of everyone, but such things were just not done, not by girls like Sian! It took a while, for every few seconds she'd have to look around (she'd shrivel up with humiliation if anyone had seen her pulling them up), and after making sure she was unobserved, return to her task. After a while, she'd got them back in place and the ribbing perfectly straight. She heaved a sigh of relief, at having completed the adjustment unobserved.

It was then she looked upwards, and saw that on the other side of the window, a sales girl was giving her an amused, superior glance. Tendril felt her face turn several shades of red, and collecting what little dignity remained to her, turned away and walked along the street. For the rest of the day, she knew, Suzanne vega's "Tom's Diner" would be echoing in her head!

Oh well, she was sick of looking at clothes she couldn't afford anyway. She decided to check out some of the apartment blocks she'd seen advertised. Those two in Queens, first, maybe, then, if she had time, the one in Brooklyn. She was getting desperate, and if turning up in person gave her a jump on any other potential renters, she was going to give herself every advantage.

Johnathan Tyler Rodriguez

Johnathan Tyler Rodriguez's alarm clock blared loudly in the comfort of his bedroom dresser, causing John to be jolted awake unpleasantly this early Friday morning. He glared over to the alarm clock, annoyed, glancing over to the time: 10:32, it read. He groaned, sitting up on his bed, and glanced to the bedroom window past him. The sun was already up, blazing under the apartment window, and caused him to cringe as bright light suddenly streamed into his room. He cursed under his breath, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. He grabbed a clean pair of clothes, a pair of shorts and a solid blue shirt. He also grabbed a clean pair of socks before heading inside. He started the water, taking a good 15 minutes inside before stepping out. He quickly changed, tossing dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, and ran a comb through his dark, black hair. It wasn't like John needed it, seeing that his hair was so short, but he combed it anyway.

He stepped out of the bathroom, glancing at his messy bedroom before heading to the kitchen. Dirty clothes were scattered all through his room, and piles of laundry ultimately ruled about half of it. A pile of clean clothes were stacked near the bedside of his bed, and a basketball was stuck under the twin sized mattress. His iPod stereo was placed near the window, and his laptop a few inches away from it. He has only been in New York for about 3 months now, but his room was already a big mess, just like back home in Virginia. He smiled in amusement silently to himself, and was glad he didn't have a roommate to share with.

Since today was Friday, John worked at the Dance studio from about 12 in the afternoon, to 4:30 sharp. Unlike most days, his Friday shift was much longer. It was probably because with the city competition coming up, his students had to work twice as hard. He grabbed the iPod from its speakers, heading to the kitchen for some breakfast. He still had a good hour or two before heading over to class, he decided, and it only took about 10 minutes to get there. The apartment was fairly quiet for a Friday morning, and John guessed that most people were already out to work. He flipped on the television, glancing over to the piles of boxes still left for him unpack from three months ago.

The faint sounds of barking and birds twittering awoke Gerard, using whatever effort he could summon he forced himself to sit up, only to realize he managed to find his way back to his living room couch, did he ever have a use for a bed? Then again, if he rarely slept in his bed, then he’d rarely have to make it over and over again. Was Gerard just secretly smart? Or more obviously, a somewhat slob? Shrugging off the thought he actually, much to his own surprise, stood up fully awakened. Glancing at the clock he to note of the time, it was early morning, again he managed to surprise himself. Gerard couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been up so early, not unless he counted that one funeral he was forced to attend months ago. With another shrug he dragged himself to the bathroom, today he was going to actually bother about his appearance, as he felt he may go out today. Maybe.

An hour passed before Gerard was washed and looking human once again, his breath was even minty fresh. A comb was desperate dragged through his nest of hair, and clothes that were never once worn got picked from the wardrobe. Gerard now had a somewhat normal appearance, his mother always nagged him to look after himself, or he’d never get a girlfriend, nor a boyfriend. In Gerard’s case, he couldn’t afford to be picky. If someone even looked at him with a smile he found himself lucky.

Since he had skived off yesterday, this morning he’d need to make up for it and start making a few business calls for work. Somewhere in his room he knew had such numbers, and for about half an hour he spent looking for them, only to find them in his jacket pocket later. Settling comfortable on his couch he began ringing up various studios for potential work, this process went on for the next hour or so. While doing so, he amused himself with watching kids TV, he always found child’s cartoons much more entertaining that boring old chat shows about celebrities.

So much for going out today, did Gerard even actually plan on going out? He spent much of this Friday morning chatting to old clients and hopeful new ones, managing to gain a few meetings and lunches. If Gerard could get a free lunch, he was sold. Not much more went on throughout the morning, after another quick chat he set off for some breakfast in the kitchen while still trying to watching cartoons.

Heath sat down at the table, pouring himself a large cup of coffee while he waited for Riley to arrive in the kitchen. He had already finished his first cup, black and very strong, when Riley stumbled tiredly down the hall.

"Bribing me?" He smiled coyly at Heath. "You know Bacon works all the time. So where the heck have you been all day?" He invited his self over at the thick man made dining table, care of Heath himself as well, and attacked the platter of Bacon. He chewed with a strip hanging from his mouth as his two hands got busy with filling his plate with the rest of Heath's cooking.

Heath offered his roommate a charming grin, “Can’t a guy just make breakfast for his friend and not have any motive behind it? Come on, Riley!” He said with a deep laugh before shaking his head at the younger man “I was writing.” His grin faltered into an annoyed frown, “Well, I was trying to write. Spent the afternoon and night up on the patio on the roof reading and trying to get some inspiration.” He explained, hearing the small dog bark down the hallway. “I was thinking, actually, that we should organize a little party up there tonight. Maybe a little late night potluck and BYOB to introduce ourselves to the new tenants and maybe talk with some of the people who live here. Everyone has become so secluded that I rarely see anyone but you.” Heath said, finishing off the last waffle before swallowing it down with a large gulp of hot coffee. “Not that you aren’t interesting.” He added with a friendly wink before standing up and gathering the dishes.

He crossed the room with long strides, his 6’6” strong frame filling almost the entire kitchen, and placed the dishes into the sink. While he was washing them, a paper at the front door caught his eye. Walking over he picked it up and read it through once before tossing it to Riley. It was a note from Orlando, down in 3C, who often did the maintenance work for the building.

“I’m going to take a cue from Orlando and write up some informal invitations and slip them under the doors if you’re up for a party tonight?” He said, making his way over to the comfortable couch in the small living room. He collapsed onto it and ran a hand through his golden blond hair, “Jerry wouldn’t have a problem with is and you never know, it could be fun.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bella awoke to the sound of a small dog barking somewhere down the hall and felt a sudden surge of confusion as her eyes focused on the old wooden ceilings and fogged up windows next to the bed. It took her a second to remember where she was, after having lived in Stacy's apartment for two months and before that... Well, best not to think about it.

She sat up and stretched, the smooth black button up shirt raising above her thighs to show off her ivory white legs. While she was one half Italian, her skin took it's fair color from her French-Canadian background which (combined with her dark hair and wide ice-blue eyes) made her look almost like a china doll. She stood up from the bed, the hem of the long shirt falling to skim under her bottom, and made her way to the door where a piece of paper lay on the floor. Kneeling down, she grabbed the piece of paper from the floor and read the neat handwriting:

Welcome to the apartment building,
I'm Orlando Mancini, the building maintenance guy. If you have any issues with your apartment, or if anything needs fixing just let me know.
Give me a call at ###-###-#### or come by my apartment, 3C.
I'm usually there after 4pm daily, and can be reached by phone anytime.
Again, welcome to the building.
Orlando Mancini

"Mancini?" Bella muttered out loud, hearing her mother's voice in the back of her head 'You need to find yourself a nice Italian boy!'. She shook her head, causing her thick dark hair to fall messily into her face. At least she knew of someone who could help with the bathroom door. Maybe-

Knock Knock Knock

Without missing a beat, Bella reached out and opened the door and then mentally cursed herself for not looking through the peep hole first. She was in New York and wasn't wearing pants... it wasn't a smart idea to just fling open your apartment door! Luckily, it was Jerry who stood at her apartment door, wearing a rather embarrassed expression as he noticed that she was barely clothed.

"Uh, morning miss Colosimo." He managed, forcing himself to keep his grey-blue eyes focused on her face.

Bella smiled easily back at the older man. Jerry was in his late 40s, maybe early 50s, and had a kind face with salt and pepper hair and a well maintained beard, "Call me Bella. What can I do for you?" She said in response, tossing her bed mused hair from her face.

"Well," Jerry began, looking over Bella's shoulder and into the apartment. She didn't have very much furniture at all and without any proper walls the place looked more like somewhere you would find a homeless person than a young beautiful women, "I've been slowly fixing up each of the rooms in the apartment building, but there are a few I haven't been able to get to for one reason or another. One of those rooms is, obviously, yours." He explained, his New York accent sounding a little rough and raw this early in the morning, "But, if you don't mind, I'd like to renovate your apartment now. I've come into a little bit of money and, with the help of some workers, I think we can get the bulk of the work done this weekend. It won't be anything amazing, but at least you'll have some walls and doors." He explained, offering her an encouraging smile before handing her a hand drawn layout of what the apartment was going to look like.

Bella's brows knit together in concentration as he spoke and, once he was finished, she returned his smile, "I'd like some walls." She said simply and nodded in agreement before looking down at the sheet of paper in her hand, "Will Orlando Mancini be helping with the renovation?" She inquired, showing him the note from under her door.

Jerry chuckled and shrugged once, "If I can convince him to take some time to help, then yes. He's a nice guy and does good handiwork. Well, I need to get on with some other errands but I'll let you know when we will be starting." He said before turning around and going back down the stairs to the lower floors.

Bella shut the door and looked at the drawing more closely. Some of the framing for the rooms was already done, so she didn't think it would take that long to complete the renovation. Without bothering to shower, she ate some toast before piling her thick hair up into a bun and taking her guitar out of it's case. She pushed herself up onto the wide window sill in the space allocated for the living room, opened the window to let a breeze in, and shut her eyes, dark lashes brushing against her cheeks.

Her fingers plucked gently at the guitar strings and she began to sing in a moving and soulful alto voice, "Blue skies, smiling at me. Nothing but blue skies, do I see. Blue birds... singing their song. Nothing but bluebirds all day long." She continued to sing throughout the afternoon, enjoying the way her voice filled the vast apartment.

((OOC: I’m counting my last post as Thursday, so this post is Friday))

“Pomogite! Pozhaluĭsta, kto-to pomozhet!”

The pleas for help rang out a few hours before the sun would rise. One might have suspected a burglar or wild animal in the apartment, but there was no such peril; Anatoli was shouting out in his sleep, as he often did during one of his nightmares. He dreamed and sleep-talked in his first language, though he had heard from other immigrants to the country that if you stayed long enough among English-speaking people even the people in your dreams started speaking in English.

“Net , yeĭ pomochʹ! Pomogite yeĭ , pozhaluĭsta . . . net!”

Anatoli awoke with a start, woken by his own loud cry. It took him a few seconds to remind himself that he was in his bed, in his room, and the mortal fear he’d been feeling was simply an illusion. He sat up and felt about for his glasses before putting them on. He wasn’t sure what time it was; he kept meaning to buy a digital clock for his bedside table, but it seemed every time he had some money on him he was off down to the art supply shop. It felt too late to get much more sleep though, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slipped his feet into his slippers, though this was more of a precaution against splinters than against cold. Feeling his way along the wall, he located the light switch, blinking for a moment in the bright light. He squinted at the clock¸ leant against the wall because the nail he’d used to hang it up had kept falling out of the wall. Half past five in the morning; he’d been right, there was no point going back to sleep now.

“Seks na odnu nochʹ,” he muttered to himself as he pottered about in his kitchen, still speaking in Russian as there was no one he was actually talking to. 'One night.' Could he not have one night where his sleep wasn't interrupted like this? It would seem not, despite the myriad of different sleeping tablets he had tried. Still, waking up this early did have one advantage; he’d be able to work some more on his artwork-in-progess. After fixing himself a coffee to fully wake himself up, he got dressed and put on the paint-covered smock, then mixed up his colours and got to work.

So far, the painting showed a dummy sat on the lap of a ventriloquist, grinning manically. The face was brightly painted and both the dummy and man controlling it wore rich, velvet garments, but a crack had appeared on the doll’s polished forehead. A hand from someone in the shadows was frantically patching it up with white paint, but the cracks had spread down one side of the dummy’s face. The image of the ventriloquist’s dummy had been showing up a lot lately in his paintings and sketches. These things often happened this way, single ideas and snapshots going round and round his head for a month or so, their only way out being down his arm and onto the canvas or paper. He was just glad they at least had this escape route; if he couldn’t get it out through his painting he didn’t know if they’d ever leave him.

He worked pretty solidly for an hour or so, while sunlight slowly crept in through his window and layer upon layer of city sounds set in as people woke up and began their working days. By the time he set off for work, he had almost finished his painting; only a bit more depth to add and background to fill in and it would be ready to sit in his apartment collecting dust like the rest of his artworks.

OOC: Friday morning.

BIC: After a good night's rest on a lumpy mattress Clara awoke to a bright stream of light filtering in through a crack in the curtains on her window. It was nearly 8:30am and Clara had a lot to do before the evening came around. She quickly got on her computer and checked her email, happily finding a response from the girl with the apartment! Knowing it was probably too early to text her now, Clara saved her number so she could text her later.

Showering quickly Clara dressed and was ready to go before 9:30. She was determined to apply to at least 10 more places today, and hopefully get an apartment to move into. She headed out toward downtown and found an acting agency and wandered inside. She knew she wasn't dressed apropriately for anything like this, but at least she could get a feel for it while she was there. A lady dressed in all black at the reception desk waved her over and said, "Are you here for the casting call?"

"No, no I'm not. I was just looking around," Clara replied, a small smile crossing her sweet face.
"Oh. Well are you an actor? Because we've got a casting call going on right now, and I think you'd have a shot," the lady replied.
Clara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before saying, "I would, but I'm not exactly dressed for it." She shrugged her shoulders, wishing she'd chosen her outfit better.

"No worries about that. I'll add you to the list if you're intersted...?"
"Sure. Clara Nicole Hodge. Thank you!" Clara couldn't belive her luck. Not even in New York five days and already she was having her first audition, and on a fluke!

Taking a seat in the large waiting room, Clara watched as girls that looked no older than fifteen, and as old as thirty entered the back rooms and exited. Some looked happier than others, but there was no way they had gotten answers that quickly. Finally after about two hours, Clara was hungry, and getting anxiuos, maybe the lady had forgotten her on the list; then a man entered the waiting room and said "Clara Nicole Hodge?" Clara stood up and followed him back. She sat across the table from three nicely dressed woman, and the man who had called her name. They asked about her experience to which she replied "Only a little in college." She watched their faces for signs of approval or dissatisfaction as she responded to their questions. She was then asked to read from a script, which she did then handed it back. They thanked her and sent her on her way.

It was an intersting day so far. Clara exited the building and decided to text the girl with the apartment.

Hey, this is Clara Hodge. I'm free whenever. Want to meet at 3 for a late lunch?

She sent the message and listened as her stomach grumbled; she couldn't wait for 3pm to get there.

OOC: Friday 4AM

IC: With her body aching and paint in her old jumpsuit, Lee slowly opened her eyes to see herself laying on the plastic sheet she had laid on the floor to protect it from the paint she used. Last night, as she was growing tired and exhausted, she decided to lay on the floor and appreciate her own paint job. So far, the only thing she has accomplished in making the small space into a living room was painting it.

She slowly raised her body with her two arms pegged on the floor, her joints are aching for having to fall asleep on the floor. But seeing the almost finish product, a small grin slowly appeared on her lips and eyes. Small things always makes her day. She was roaming her sight around the walls and the design she DIY-ed when she remembered that she had locked Penny inside her room to prevent it from making any mess.

Quick and without thinking twice, she stood up causing her back to ache more. "Oh shit," her lips spilled. Lee pumped her left arm then the right so she could stretch and alleviate the pain somehow. She went limping towards her door after assuring that she had fixed her mess and that Penny wouldn't be able to catch anything with it's mouth. Slowly, the door squeaked. On top of her bed, was the cute and snoring pet of hers. Another thing that makes her smile. She lifted her up and snuggled it with her nose. Penny sleepily looked at her but quickly closed it eyes again and went back to sleep on her arms like a baby.

"It's okay baby. Go back to sleep, Mommy's just going to get a shower okay?" She delicately place the dog back to her bed and walked over to her dresser. She was going through her dresses when she finally settled wearing some denim shorts and a laced top.. She was about to close her closet doors when she remembered her short coat.

Heading towards the bathroom, after making sure Penny was still on her bed and closing it's door, she found a piece of paper with a guy's handwriting just right by her apartment's main door.

Welcome to the apartment building,
I'm Orlando Mancini, the building maintenance guy. If you have any issues with your apartment, or if anything needs fixing just let me know.
Give me a call at ###-###-#### or come by my apartment, 3C.
I'm usually there after 4pm daily, and can be reached by phone anytime.
Again, welcome to the building.
Orlando Mancini

As sad as it may seem, Lee never got the chance to meet any of her neighbors aside from bumping into them or leaving a shy smile. Nothing more than her walking by a stranger in the street of New York. Maybe it was a good chance to actually meet them. She tossed the letter on top of her dining room table and headed towards her bathroom for a hot shower to jump start her day.

Lee was starting to condition her hair when her phone went off. She hastily walked out of the bathroom naked (the joy of having her apartment alone) and grabbed her BlackBerry with a damp hand. She got a text message from her boss, her eyes were suddenly filled with sadness. Looks like she has to change her outfit. He was asking her to meet regarding her job. She tossed her phone back without caring whether it'll get a crack or a scratch. She hates her job. It's slowly killing her but the same time the reason it gives her a living.
Lee made sure to use a conditioner, a gift from her boss. A Russian Amber Imperial Conditioning Crème by Phillip B. It works every time, makes her job easier. It's like sucking up to the authorities.

He asked her to go to their meeting at 8am at the Four Season Hotel. So she had to look for something else to wear. Something more appropriate for their meeting. She thought, a nude colored bustier covered with a white top worn with a navy blue bell bottom slacks can never go wrong with a pair of nude Dior pumps.

Nothing makes her feel more sexy than to be in a corporate attire, but nothing else can make her feel dead than having to go to a meeting with her boss. If only she could find other ways to pay for rent and at the same time pursue her dream. But New York can get really damn expensive, even for a Brooklyn apartment. So what other choice does Lee have rather than keeping her day job? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

As she was putting Penny in her cage, Lee then remembered her roommate post. Hopefully, the gals have received her reply. She can always meet them later after her supposed work. She gave out a heavy sigh and carried Penny in her cage out of her apartment. Keys in the other hand as her bag hung from her shoulder with it's chain.

"Good morning apartment," She whispered making Penny gave out a small bark. "Shh..." She warned her pet as she walked towards the elevator. "Mommy's gonna get into trouble," She shut the metal gate and pressed G.

I guess I'll be checking the party later, was Lee's last thought before heading out the streets as early as an hour before 7am.

“I was thinking, actually, that we should organize a little party up there tonight. Maybe a little late night potluck and BYOB to introduce ourselves to the new tenants and maybe talk with some of the people who live here. Everyone has become so secluded that I rarely see anyone but you.” Heath's words caused Riley's jaw to drop. Good thing he was busy chugging down his coffee rather than noticing his room mate's reaction.
But Riley quickly recovered from shock, as he continued to chew on his bacon. He lowered his look on his plate but tried to look at his friend unnoticed.
“Not that you aren’t interesting.” Good thing Heath cleared his statement before Riley took it way too seriously. And before he knew it, Heath had already took his plate. He didn't even notice he was already done eating the pile he had dumped on his plate.
"Thanks," Was all he was able to mutter when Heath took the liberty to clean his plate for him.

Riley stood up and walked over to their couch, slumped into the softness and placed his two feet on top of their coffee table when Heath suddenly spoke and tossed a piece of paper over his head. “I’m going to take a cue from Orlando and write up some informal invitations and slip them under the doors if you’re up for a party tonight?”

Riley went over the personalized note and learned that it was from their neighbor slash apartment carpenter. Suddenly he felt Heath's weight collapsed next to him on the couch. It sent goosebumps all over his body. This past few days, Riley has noticed that whenever Heath appears to close to him, it makes him nervous. Not a good thing. Absolutely not a good idea especially for Riley.

“Jerry wouldn’t have a problem with is and you never know, it could be fun.” He could smell Heath's cologne, it brought a warm and husky feeling over him that he had to clear his throat before responding. "I... aherm... by my guest. Just send me a text on what you want me to cook. Maybe a few barbecue would go well with the beer," He suggested but quickly brought him self to stand from the couch. Hopefully, Heath didn't notice how awkward it felt for Riley.

He grabbed his kitchen coat and his keys, stood behind the couch and declared, "I need to go, see you later." He did hesitate to leave and spend more time with his friend but Riley couldn't bear it anymore. He needed to breath some fresh air, a walk across Central Park before heading to work might do him some good. Besides he's two hours early for his job. There is no way he'd run late again.

After replying her interest on taking up the offer of a roommate, Audrey went to check the rest of her Inbox. She smiled, moving her mouse down she saw a new email from one of her friends back home. It was from her friend Stephanie. Audrey went to open the email, waiting for her old laptop to load as she glanced over at the time. It was already around 11pm, and Audrey knew that she should be heading to bed soon. She had to wake up early the next day, at around 5 or 6 in the morning. Every Friday's she always had some sort of event to sing for, whether it'd be a wedding or party, her new manager always seemed to hook her up nowadays. Luckily, tomorrow was wedding. Audrey decided that tomorrow she'd wear a simple, pearl lace dress for the wedding, something she kept at the back of her closet.

She turned back to her computer, reading as Stephanie told her what was new back in Philadelphia. She told her about her parent's company, since Audrey refused to talk to them. Audrey read over the email, smiling when Stephanie mentioned she finally got a boyfriend. She clicked the 'reply' button and sent a response back. It took a good 15 minutes or so until Audrey was finished replying and finally went to bed. She had just laid the dress over her couch, paired with a pair of black stiletto heals, and turned off the lights behind her as she headed to her room.

Friday, 5am

Awaking bright and early the following morning, Audrey awoke by the sound of alarm clock. She glanced sleepily to the dresser next to her, seeing the time to be around 5:30. Rolling out of bed, she quickly stepped into the shower. She washed her hair, blow drying it when she got out, and slipped on the pearl colored dress. She stood over the bathroom sink an hour later, rimming her light colored eyes with black eyeliner, and slicked on some mascara and lip gloss. She found her heels still by the couch where she left them, and slipped them on before heading out the door with her bag and keys. The Friday morning was still early, and barely anyone stalked the streets. Audrey kept the address to event in her hand, yielding a cab over as she gave him the address. She met her boss over by the church, and paid the cab driver a $20 bill before getting off.

The sun was up bright and early for this early in the morning, and Audrey waved to her boss as she came closer. Francis, her boss or manager, however you'd like to call it, walked over to her. He glanced at Audrey briefly, not bothering to say a 'good morning' or 'hello' before he went straight to business. He wore a simple dark navy tux, his eyes hidden under sunglasses, and watched Audrey carefully as he instructed her. She was to head over by the back to the church, to the bride and groom. Audrey squinted her eyes, studying Francis before nodding slowly. She had long given up on questioning why he never really opened up on anything except work. Already a month working with him, and Audrey barely knew anything about him. She only knew what she was told when she first hired him as a manager.

Audrey headed to the back of the church in her black stiletto heals, finding the bride inside a room far behind the alter. She was by herself, standing in front of mirror and was fixing a smudge of eyeliner using the reflection. Audrey knocked on the door, and the bride looked at her. She had clear blue eyes, and her long, jet black hair was pulled up in a bundle of curls inside the wedding veil. The bride, Melissa, seemed to recognized her, and hugged her briefly. "Congratulations." Audrey smiled kindly, and hugged her back. Melissa nodded back, thanking her politely. Audrey nodded, and asked where she was to go. Melissa hesitated at first, and finally told her to go to the back of the church near the organist. She was to see her again during the reception.

The mass in church took a good two hours, and finally ended at about 11:30. Audrey glanced over to the organist a few times when Melissa and her new husband proceeded out the church before ending the celebration. Now, was the main event; the reception.

The reception started abruptly an hour later, at twelve thirty. It was outside, near the grass, and chairs were scattered all around the field as Audrey arrived. Food was being brought in, placed in the middle of tables, and heat blazed from under them keeping them warm. Audrey stood by the microphone, talking to a few of the band members, before the reception started. The bride and groom dance was "Long Time Coming" by Oliver James. Audrey pulled in the mike as she began to sing,

"It's been a Long Time Coming down on this road,
And now I know,
What I've been waiting for,
And like a lonely highway I'm trying to get home, oohh
Love's been a long time coming.."

She sang, smiling when she watched the bride and groom take their first dance. A round of applause erupted as the song ended, and the families and friends smiled when the bride and groom pulled in for a kiss. Lunch was served, the father daughter dance came, and Audrey was over by the stage, doing what she loved. She watched the bride and groom sway along to the music as she sang along. Silently, she wished that one day soon that she'd meet that special someone.

Audrey left the reception at around 4pm, beginning to head back home to her apartment. She caught a cab home, reaching the familiar neighborhood before stepping inside the building. She rode the elevator upstairs, unlocking the door inside her room. She took off the heels when she came inside, and glanced out her bedroom window. She decided to make herself a sandwich, and headed to the kitchen, still in the dress from the wedding. She opened the refrigerator, taking out a loaf of bead and some peanut butter and jelly. Yes, she was a grown adult woman, but peanut butter sandwiches was one of her guiltiest pleasures.

As she prepared her food, Audrey remembered the reply she had sent yesterday about the roommate response. She opened up her laptop, logging on Yahoo, and found a response. The girl had told her that she was free today from about 3-7pm and would love to meet up with her at a small cafe at 60th street. Audrey glanced at the phone number she had left, and texted the girl a reply instead. She told her that she would be there in about an hour or so, at the corner the Starbuck's cafe. It took her a good twenty minutes to get there anyway.

Heath had barely sat down on the couch before Riley leaped up from it, all but dashing towards the door. He agreed to the party, telling Heath to let him know what to cook, and hastily left the apartment. Heath stared after the younger man with an expression mixed with confusion and amusement before shrugging his broad tanned shoulders in defeat. Sometimes he really had no idea what Riley was thinking, even after living with him for over a year.

Heath walked back into his room and grabbed a stack of plain paper before sitting down at his small messy desk, cup of strong coffee in hand, and wrote out multiple copies of the same informal invitation. His handwriting, though loopy and elaborate looking, still held a masculine edge on the old looking paper.

Party on the Rooftop!

In an effort to gain some social interaction between all of us here at Brooklyn Heights, I am proposing a get together on the roof top patio tonight. Come and go as you please, but I will be up there around 7pm to start the evening off. If you wish to contribute some snacks to this informal event, please do! If no one else attends, you can rest assured that I won`t let the food go to waste. BYOB as well.

Looking forward to seeing you all there.

Heath Montgomery, Apartment 4B

After he had finished scribbling out the note for what seemed like the hundredth time, Heath gathered them up and made his way out into the hall. He went from room to room and floor to floor, slipping the small sheet of paper under every door before returning back up to his own apartment. Once back in his room he collapsed on the couch with another cup of coffee and began considering what to make for the party. Even if no one showed, at least he and Riley could enjoy Riley`s cooking and Heath`s strongly mixed drinks on the patio.

With a chic look, Lee got off a cab and stepped into the classy doors of the Four Seasons. She was advised as to where she was supposed to head even before she left her house, room number and what she should do. But she decided to take a quick break over the ladies powder room. The lobby was pretty much empty at that time of the day so Lee doubted if anyone would know who she is. She isn't exactly Miss Congeniality to be acquainted to that many people. In fact, she can count the people she know in New York with her fingers.

She pushed the door open as an older woman stood by the sink staring at herself in the mirror crying. "I'm sorry I didn't know anyone was occupying it. Excuse me," She was about to lead herself because she felt embarrassed for the woman when she spoke. "Please come in."
"I'm sorry?" Lee was surprised. Yet she didn't attempt to look at her eye to eye.
"I need someone to talk to, you are a stranger, at least I don't have to see or bump into you again," Sophistication oozed as she shared her reason.
"Are you alright Madam?" Lee asked.
"Oh child, of course I am not. Come inside and lock the door. I doubt anyone would come," She suggested and Lee did as she was told to do so.
The older woman sat on the arm chair and patter her tears dry. She pointed over the other arm chair for Lee to occupy. "Stare at my face and tell me, do I look old?" She hastily asked as Lee gasped with surprise.
"Madam, I..." Lee couldn't express her disbelief.
"Oh shush, go on. Look at my face and tell me if a man can still lust over me," The woman was staring seriously at her this time.
"Madam, I don't think I-" Lee was supposed to finish her sentence when the woman cut her.
"Please," A small word but it made Lee decide to grant the woman's request.
"Madam, you look amazing. What seems to be bothering you?" She might as well ask.
But the old woman started crying again. Lee thought that she might be in her late 40s or early 50s but she knows that the woman aged gracefully. Money isn't obviously the problem as she was wearing Harry Winston's and a pair of Blahnik paired with an Hermes Kelly.
"Is it your husband?" Lee figured.
The woman nodded and her eyes seem like a pair of water works. Lee stood up and gave her a box of Kleenex while trying to comfort her with a rub at the back.
Silence stood for about 5 minutes. All Lee could hear is her own breathing and the woman's sniffing.

"I can't believe he had the courage to admit he is keeping a mistress," The woman bawled as Lee's brows created a frown. Her eyes drifted from each corner.
"The worst thing is that I was so stupid and clueless when we got married. He made me sign a prenuptial agreement and made me believe he'd love me till the end. I'm so stupid," The woman confessed.
"We kept it from my father! Even when he finally placed the company's ownership under my husband's name!" The woman continued as clumps of tissue scattered on the oak table.
"If I demand divorce, I'd just be left with my savings!" Lee couldn't believe everything she was hearing. It was making her feel guilty with all the stuff she buys out of whim while this woman is good as broke.
"I'm sorry dear, it's just that I needed to talk to someone before I go crazy. I simply can't tell me so called friends about this. It'll create a scandal," Yet the woman chose her to listen.
"I'm sorry about what is happening to you but I really need to go Madam," Lee picked up her bag and clutched it firmly in her hand as she quickly walked out of the powder room.

She was heaving when the elevator doors finally closed, she repeatedly pressed the floor number she was about to go to. As if it would make the elevator go faster. She placed her hand on the metal rail as she regained her balance. She was staring at her reflection against the elevator walls.

It's going to be a long day for Lee.

~~~~~~~~~~~
Lee has just gotten out of the shower when her phone got off. She already has two messages from the two interested room mates. The first one she was about to meet was named Clara. She dressed up back to her clothes and applied some light make up before leaving. She got into a taxi. Since it was Friday, the traffic was a little heavy but Lee was able to arrive in front of Serendipity 3 before texting Clara.

Here at Serendipity 3, reserved a couple of seats just look for a girl in a nude colored corset and white cover up. Lots of necklace. See you.
-Lee

One of the waitress confirmed her reservation and guided her to her table. She sat down and tried to forget about everything that had happened to her throughout the day.

Good thing she reserved a good spot, it helped her ease her mind out as she stared at the busy New Yorkers passing by the window seat she was at. What could Clara probably look like?

Her phone interrupted her daydreaming. It was from the dog sitter she hired. Marice fetched Penny from the day care and brought the puppy home. She was hired to stay with the dog until Lee comes home.

"Someone slipped something under your door. It's about a rooftop party here at your apartment. Just texted to you to let you know. I'm not sure if you know him. He's named Heath and seems to be staying at the same floor as you are, 4B."

Lee smiled and replied,

Alright, just pin the note on the cork board. I'll be there in two hours. Just got to meet someone. Thank you.

Looks like Clara can actually attend the small get together her neighbor planned. It'll help her get to know her better.

Riley was strolling across the Central Park when he notice two guy sitting next to each other with a paper cup of steaming coffee in each hand. Somehow it made him realize how empty he feels. He shrugged the feeling off, maybe he just needed to see and meet more people. Yes, Heath is a great friend slash roommate, but he has to explore the world outside of their apartment and the restaurant he works for. He agrees that Heath's idea of a get together at the roof top seems amazing. It could be a start for him.

He glanced at his wrist watch, he better get going. Might as well be early than to be late. He increased his walking phase and before he knew it, he was about to cross the road towards the restaurant. He sucked in some smog infused oxygen before pulling the glass door open. He was welcomed with empty tables and chairs. He still need to go through 8 hours of mind grueling recipes before he can go enjoy his self for the party. He made a mental note to fetch some few ingredients for his barbecue for the rooftop fiasco.