Nick Cuarto's Story

Killens again put down the idea of her setting him up with someone which didn't surprise Brooklyn. She knew that none of the girls that she worked with would be a good match for Killens. Most of them already had a baby daddy that they were involved with, and a homeless boy, even as good looking as decent as Roman, probably wouldn't excite them.

Brooklyn wanted Roman to meet a girl, though. Someone who he could hang out with and more importantly, encourage him to do something other than fighting. Brooklyn never made a big fuss out of him fighting, namely because it wasn't her place. She wasn't his mother or even his sister and while she loved him like a brother, he knew the dangers of fighting better than anyone of them and if he thought that he could handle it, Brooklyn wasn't going to stop him. That didn't mean that she never worried about him, because she did, but she tried not to stress about it. However, if he had someone else who he had to worry about, she thought that maybe he'd value his life a little bit more. At least that was how she had become after becoming involved with Nick. Every day there was a part of her that wanted to pack up her belongings, buy a train ticket and disappear. She didn't know where to or what she would do with her life, but she felt like anything could be a step forward from this life. It was never really possible though, because Brooklyn couldn't leave Nick here and even if staying here made her unhappy, she did it because he was worth more to her than leaving. At least before today's fight she had felt that way.

"Alright Killens, you don't have to beg me. I'll get lunch with you but for the record, you're my lunch date hoe," she said, mirroring his smile. She began to walk with him, and then asked, "Where do you want to go?". She considered asking Killens if he thought that they should go back and invite Nick to come along, but it didn't seem necessary. "I don't want anything Asian, but I'm good with anything else."

Robbie told Nick that he had no set plans for the night and Nick assumed that meant that he was going to spend the day drinking or getting high off of something. Killens was probably right that inviting Robbie to go get a few drinks wouldn't be the best idea. He already had a problem with alcohol and Nick didn't want to be the one egging it on.

"Ah, I don't know," Nick replied. He wasn't lying either. Now that Killens wasn't around to go watch the game, Nick wasn't as interested in going alone. Besides, he had to deal with Brooklyn sooner or later and it was probably best to get it over with now. Her shift started around six and Nick wanted to make sure the air was cleared before she left, since he'd probably be asleep by the time she returned after work. "The Yankees are playing tonight, so I was going to go watch the game somewhere but I still haven't spoken to Brooklyn," he added as he stood up and walked towards Robbie. He had the money from his earlier deal in his pocket, but that was really all of the cash he had on him. Luckily he'd be getting another $200 or so when Hailey finished the deliveries, so that would hold him over for the weekend.

"I think I know where she is so I'm going to see if we can talk," Nick said, reaching the door and then turning back to Robbie. "Looks like you've got the place to yourself," he commented before turning back and leaving the warehouse. Living with eight people, most of whom worked at night, meant that there was rarely any alone time in the warehouse. It wasn't like there were even divider walls that gave anyone much privacy, so Nick always appreciated it when, on the rare occasion, everyone was gone.

Nick remembered the empty vodka bottle from earlier and headed towards Finnigan's, assuming that was where Brooklyn would be.

Killens nudged her after what she said about Cara and muttered, "Be nice" before he let her order her food and then ordered a chai tea and the sandwich special which was the sandwich of the day plus a soup of his choice. He typically didn't go to places like this, needless to say, but it didn't bother him too much and he figured that since he invited Brooklyn to lunch, it might as well be somewhere she would actually eat. He didn't laugh at her joke about winning his match. It was one of his bigger ones. He tried not to double up on the same night whenever he could; it was really only when he was desperate, but he had people he needed to impress. His streak was going good and once he was challenged to both fights, he couldn't really say no. Fighting wasn't a choice once you got into it. It was the only option.

"If I can move," he finally said when he was done thinking. "And that's if I win. Don't get paid if I get my ass handed to me."

Once their food was ready, he picked a high rise table near a window, right where the sun hit so the area was relatively warm. A steamy fog emitted from his soup and his sandwich was still sizzling. With a thud, his backpack dropped to the floor beside his chair and his back felt instantly relieved. He noticed a cup of white cubes at the edge of the table, seeing that they were sugar cubes. He smiled at this and picked one up to show Brooklyn.

"Sugar cubes," he said. "They had this in England. My mum would always take me to a place kind of like this and they had these little sugar cubes. Just like this. And she'd read her books or whatever and I'd sneak the sugar in my pocket when she wasn't looking." He smiled at the sugar cube without really realizing it and dropped two in his tea. "In all honesty, I like my tea black, but I can't resist this now. How's your avocado or whatever? It sounds like death."

Roman ate his meal slowly, which was a task given that he was always hungry and naturally a very fast eater. Now, though, he mentally thought out his chews so he didn't finish far before Brooklyn did and have to sit there awkwardly. He ate and observed the room, mostly thinking to himself as he didn't feel the need to hold a continuous conversation with Brook since he knew her pretty well. He picked up the bag of books Brooklyn bought for Hailey and looked through them. He read half of Green Eggs and Ham before pulling away from it. He thought back to how she was concerned about what would happen to Holly once everyone moved on. After that he sat the book down and looked at her. "Brook, why do you hold onto this notion that any of us are going to get out of here? I mean, you and Nick might be able to, but not the rest of us. I mean, I want something better for us too, but it just...it seems like empty hoping at this point."

He sipped on his tea and looked at her. Maybe it was because she was so stubborn that she still had this belief that somehow things would turn out okay. Or maybe not even that, but that in the next few years or so, somewhere in the future, they wouldn't be where they were now. He used to have something similar thought like that when he was younger. He figured he wouldn't be homeless by the time he was fifteen let alone twenty, and here he was, still homeless. Roman couldn't afford hopeless hoping if it just made things harder. No matter how desperately he sometimes wanted to reverse things even if it meant what could have been a happiless life, out here he was responsible for his own life and his own failures. He lived for nobody but himself and it was daunting to think about having to live for the world again; to have to deal with the expectations of success and prosperity.

Out here, and being a fighter, the expectations were never in his favor, but he had come to terms with that. If he died out here, which he likely would and the rest of them probably would too, it wouldn't be like he had completely failed himself since it was expected in the first place. At least that was his reasoning. Hiding was something he was good at now. The world was vast and greedy, and it scared him. He didn't understand how Brooklyn could be so fearless as to believe that there was something out there for them when they all ran from the same world she thought had a chance for them. He didn't understand it, but in a way he did admire it.

Finnigan's wasn't more than a ten minute walk from the warehouse but Nick walked slower than usual. He tried to think up a good way to approach what had happened with Brooklyn. Normally he didn't have to worry about what to say because he had nothing to apologize for. Even though Nick knew that he was justified in saying everything that he had said earlier, he still felt like part of it was his fault. If he had done what he always did and let Brooklyn shout until her throat hurt, she would have eventually tired out and things would have been less awkward for everyone. Still, Nick knew that he had to stand up to her at some point. He didn't really mind her insulting him, mostly because he knew that she was really just upset with herself, but when she started bullying Hailey and Holly, Nick felt like he had to do something.

Ever since he met Killens, Nick had taken on the role of being the leader of the group. It wasn't some official position or anything, and it wasn't like he had any authority over anyone else, but he was usually the one who the others turned to with problems. Whether it was asking if they could move in or just borrow some money, Nick was usually the one that they turned to. Between that and being the person that Brooklyn was closest with, Nick felt responsible for making sure that she was at least civil with the others.

Nick was surprised when he walked into Finnigan's and didn't see Brooklyn sitting at the bar. There were two older men who Nick had seen there before, but that was all. He wasn't in the mood to drink, especially with it being so early, but before he could slip back out, Finn greeted him and invited him to sit down.

"Hey man, I just came in looking for Brooklyn," Nick said as he approached the counter. "She's obviously not here though, so I'm gonna head out."

"Brooklyn? She was in here an hour or two ago. Seemed upset if ya ask me, but I know you two'll work it out," he said with a wink. Nick assumed that Brooklyn had filled him in on their problems but he wasn't in the mood for Finn's advice. He just wanted to find Brooklyn and talk, so he muttered a "thanks" and headed towards the door, only to be stopped by Finn waving him back to the counter. He pulled a few crumbled up bills from out of his pocket and dropped them on the counter top. "She left me too much earlier. Disappeared before I could give her any change," he explained, pushing the bills towards Nick who gave a Finn a quick nod before taking the bills and heading back outside.

He nodded coolly and watched small ripples form in his cup as he swirled it in small circles on the wooden table. It was understandable, what she said. Under normal circumstances he imagined the conversation would have taken a tense turn in an unsuspecting direction; suicidal thoughts were common here though. The preoccupation with death was essentially inevitable. It was strange to think about it really. To have thought about death so often yet at the same time think about how infinitely terrible life could be. Roman dipped his sandwich in his soup, almost complete finished and feeling a sense of fullness that he was no longer familiar with. It wasn't as satisfying as it used to be, giving him a slight feel of nausea.

"I'm glad you didn't kill yourself," he said after he reasoned that there was nothing more to really say on the matter. "I mean, you're the only person I'd allow myself to be a lunch date hoe for, so." Roman flashed a quick grin at her. It was almost instinctual at this point to try to keep serious conversation as light as he could. He was never always like this, especially in the very beginning. He was so angry and alone, confused and scared. He supposed he sort of adapted for the best; if he didn't, like Brook if she didn't force herself to see some kind of hope, he would have been dead. Death was a casual conversation it seemed, more casual as compared to others who weren't in their situation. He supposed that perhaps after being out here for so long you come to terms with certain things without even realizing it.

Once they were both left with more crumbs than portions of food, he craned his neck back and caught a sugar cube in his mouth. He'd been doing this for some time now, probably on his tenth one that he'd actually caught. The other twenty were scattered on the floor about their feet.

"All ready?" he said as he looked at her. "Have you got anywhere else you want to go?" He spoke carefully. Roman wasn't quite sure whether or not she wanted to go to the warehouse or not. In all honesty, he was tired of being in there. He needed to keep himself busy as the day came to an end so his nerves for tonight's match wouldn't get the best of him. He was already anxious because of how important it was, but now he had the pain to be concerned about. The pills were in his backpack pocket, openly sitting in the mesh compartment. He'd take them when the time got closer. Maybe about two hours before his match so it would have time to get the effects going.

So while he was in no rush to get going back to the warehouse, he didn't want to keep Brook longer than she wanted. Killens made sure not to bring up Nick as he saw this outing as a way out of the warehouse and all the problems it carried. Before he left he was quite crass with Nick, something he felt a small sting of guilt for now. While he wanted to keep Brooklyn happy by distracting her from the morning and whatever else she had on her mind, he also had Nick to think about. Now to imagine that his own actions towards Nick might have just added an extra dose of negativity, he felt, again, at a crossroads. The next time Brook tried to set him up, he would make sure to let her know that he was already in a polygamous relationship with her and Nick since that's how it felt a good amount of the time. He picked up a sugar cube and gestured it at Brooklyn's mouth, then tossed it whether she opened or not.

After nearly inhaling a Caesar salad, Cara left the cafe and headed back to the warehouse. She hadn't been there since yesterday morning and was curious as to what everyone was up to. There was always something interesting going on when you lived with seven other people, especially when they were all outcasts of society.

Cara was the newest one in the group and even after being there for nine months, she still wasn't extremely close to anyone. There was Robbie, who was always her go-to guy. Even though he had abandoned his comfortable lifestyle in Boston years back, Cara still felt connected with him. Like her, he knew what it was like to live carelessly with a seemingly endless flow of money and then to switch over to having nothing. He was the person that she would go to after a night of drinking when she wanted to sleep with someone who thought of her as more than just a sex toy, or during the day when she was bored, assuming that he wasn't already high. Besides Robbie, Cara had befriended the three other girls. She wasn't best friends with any of them, since Hailey and Holly already had each other and Brooklyn had Nick, but it wasn't like Cara was really looking for a best friend anyway. Even though she would never boast about her past lifestyle, she knew that she was different than the others. If she hadn't become homeless, there wasn't a chance that she would have given any of them a chance at being friends.

She was only a block away from the warehouse when crossed the street and spotted Nick a few feet away from her. Catching up, she nudged his arm and tugged the bottom of her short dress down, something she had to do every few minutes when she walked to prevent it from riding up.

"Hey," she said cheerfully as she walked next to him. "Where are you coming from?" Because of her attire, it was obvious that she had spent the night working and didn't need to explain herself. It wasn't like Nick would ask anyway. He was always a nice guy, one that didn't try to make anyone feel uncomfortable or out of place. In fact, he had been the one to welcome Cara into the warehouse when he found out that she was homeless. He had been the main dealer for her friends whenever they needed weed, ecstasy or Adderall, so Cara had known him for a few years, although he was never more than a friendly acquaintance.

Nick wasn't sure where Brooklyn would be after crossing Finnigan's off of the list. It was possible that she had went to hang out with one of her work friends, was out shopping or maybe she had went to work early. There were too many possibilities for where she would have went and in such a big city, it would be close to impossible to find her now. Nick turned back in the direction he had come from, figuring that it would be easier to just wait for her to come to him. He wanted to get it over with because the guilt from snapping at Brooklyn was wearing him down and he hated the idea of tension being present, he had no way of tracking her down now and decided to go back to the warehouse. Maybe he would go watch the game later if Brooklyn wasn't back.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Cara appeared, brushing against his arm and greeting him happily. She was dressed in a tight and tiny black dress with high heels to match, but it wasn't out of the norm for her. She had been gone last night, like she frequently was, and Nick knew that it meant that she had been working. The idea of any of the girls working as prostitutes always made Nick a little bit uncomfortable. It seemed so degrading and inhumane to allow someone to do what they wanted with you for money. He knew that Brooklyn had done it for a while when she had first left home, and even her working as a stripper didn't always sit well with him. However, it was a way to make money and it wasn't like Nick had a better alternative to offer any of them.

"I was looking for Brooklyn. She's pissed at me... to say the least," he replied. He didn't go into details, mainly because he didn't want to stress himself any more about what had happened. Instead, he decided to change the subject. "Don't those heels kill your feet?" he asked with a grin, eyeing her shoes. He couldn't imagine walking around all night in something that looked so painful to wear.

Cara frowned when Nick said that he had been looking for Brooklyn because she was upset with him. Brooklyn always seemed to be upset with someone so it wasn't alarming that they had gotten into an argument, but she still felt bad that they were fighting. Cara tried to be the mediator in most of the warehouse arguments. She was good at listening to people's problems, mainly because she knew what it was like to have no one to listen to hers. She felt that it was important to just let people talk about what was bothering them, whether she could offer good advice or not.

He then asked whether the heels she was wearing killed her feet, getting a slight smirk out of Cara in response. "A few blisters is a small price to pay for looking this good," she joked, dramatically flipping her damp hair. She was sure that she looked anything but good right now, wearing last night's outfit, high heels, wet hair and no makeup. "Besides, it couldn't hurt too more than it did to get those tattoos," she said, pointing to the inked area of his arm. "I was going to get one last year but I chickened out last minute," she said. She and her friends had planned on getting small tattoos on their inner wrists during the last week of high school. At first, she thought that it would be nice to get something to remember her mother by, but she really had no memories of the woman and didn't think it would make sense to try to make up some story to associate with a symbol. She ended up deciding on a small black cross. She was Catholic, but she really just liked the way that it looked on pictures she had seen on Tumblr. However, Cara had never been good around needles and ended up fainting before it was even her turn to go.

They approached the alley and Cara made her way past the large dumpster and through the door. She was surprised to find the building empty and turned to Nick, curious to see if he knew where everyone was. "Did you and Brooklyn scare everyone away?" she asked lightly, not knowing that there fight really had been big enough to cause more tension than usual.

Killens merely nodded at her witticisms as they stood approached the locker rooms. The humidity from them could be felt just outside of the door; some people could be heard talking, showers running from inside. He nodded.

"Yeah, I'll see you. I won't take very long."

He went inside, feeling more than a little out of place. It wasn't as full as he thought it would be which was comforting. It wasn't that he was afraid of the possibility of seeing naked men; he'd shower in places like these before, but the entire building just made him feel like some type of criminal. Like he told Brooklyn, he didn't take long at all. He stayed in a few minutes longer given the fact that he figured she would, but the shower itself was enough to make him want to stay. The heat was powerful and the pressure not at all weak. Fifteen or so minutes after entering the locker room, he was just as soon out of it. He found somewhere to sit provided Brooklyn wasn't already out there when he was.

When it was finally time to leave, he walked with her outside onto the bustling street, making sure to thank her.

"Those towels are pretty soft," he confirmed. "I considered taking one but I figured I ought not to."

After the gym, he walked back towards the warehouse. He wasn't sure if this entire time Brooklyn was trying to keep from going back, but he decided it was best to go back for now. When they got back, Cara and Nick were there; he didn't know where Robbie was though. Roman quietly said hi before giving Brooklyn a side glance between her and Nick. The rest of the day was uneventful for him. He rested best he could, took the pills, and left a little earlier than he usually did. He wanted more time alone for this one. For some reason he just had a bad feeling about the night. It wasn't that he never got nervous because he did, but they were the good nerves. The ones he had that evening made put an uncomfortable weight on his chest.

He walked for a while and then sat in a small park until it got dark enough for him to leave. The place wasn't well known, as it wasn't supposed to be. Theoretically, street fighting was illegal, and for good reason. There were rules like there were any other match, but they weren't always enforced. The only thing that really mattered was that you didn't lose. He'd gotten into some bad matches before. Where people, despite it being disallowed, brought in accessories like knives or brass knuckles. He supposed after years of doing this, he knew his way around those kinds, although sometimes there might be some idiot he would try it. The guy for his first match wasn't too big, or so he'd heard. He didn't like meeting them beforehand. The second one, though, was a lot larger than him. The pain was numbed from the pills, though, so he let that settle him. A crowd began to form in the less desirable part of the city. There was an open space on the street with the sidewalk filled with masses of people.

When it was his time, his body felt looser than it usually did; his arms heavier and the ground lighter. The shouts and vandalism shouted by the onlookers were hazy as if they were under water. His wrists and hands were wrapped tightly in thick gauze. By the end, they were stained with bits of red.

After returning to the warehouse, Brooklyn gave her version of an apology to Nick. It was more of an "I'm over it, let's move on" than an "I'm sorry for overreacting", but it was as close to an apology as Brooklyn was going to offer and as usual, Nick accepted it. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. She and Nick spent a few hours aimlessly walking through the city and talking. They stopped at one of the one dollar pizza shops in midtown, had a few drinks at Finnigan's and at six Brooklyn left to work the seven to three shift at work. She was exhausted by the end of the night but ended up making over seven hundred dollars, so it was worth it.

Brooklyn made an effort to be less hostile and it worked for a few hours, but she soon fell back into her irritable and harsh self. She really did try to be more understanding of the others quirks, especially Holly's, but nearly everything that Hailey did bothered her. If Brooklyn was trying to sleep and there was a slight noise- even the crackling of a plastic bag or a quiet whisper coming from her and Holly's side of the room, Brooklyn would snap. She knew that she was overreacting and that her constant criticism and jabs at Hailey were unnecessary but she couldn't help but to lash out at the girl. It really had nothing to do with what Hailey's actions and in fact, the girl was actually pretty easy to live with, but Brooklyn despised the fact that she was able to be the heroic and caring big sister while she had failed at the same role. So, whether she really realized it or not, Brooklyn tried to cut Hailey apart to bring her down to the same level that she was at.

It was now ten days after her big fight with Nick and for the most part, she had forgotten the animosity she had felt towards him that day. After a normally late night at work, Brooklyn slept until around two in the afternoon. Surprisingly, Holly hadn't woken her earlier and she actually felt well rested when she got up. Nick was out at that point, but Brooklyn had promised Lily, one of the girls she worked with, that she would help watch her one of her kids while she took the other to the doctor. She spent the afternoon at Lily's two bedroom apartment and although it was nothing special, Brooklyn thought it was nice. Nicer than the warehouse, at least. It had a small kitchen and living room, one bathroom and two bedrooms. It seemed to fit the family of three nicely and Brooklyn knew that it would be more than enough space for her and Nick. If Lily could afford it on the same salary as her while also supporting two children, Brooklyn was sure that she could too, if she gave up her impulsive spending habits.

Her friend didn't return to the apartment until around five-thirty, and after indulging in the pizza that she had brought home and spending an hour chatting, Brooklyn made her way back to the warehouse. She was glad to find Nick there, seated in his infamous lawn chair. As Brooklyn approached him, she offered a smile and tossed him a cigarette. "What have you been up to?" she questioned. She was in a pretty good mood and didn't even glance in the direction of Hailey and Holly's side of the warehouse because if they were there, she didn't want her day to turn sour.

Nick felt like progress was made over the next week and a half between him and Brooklyn. They hadn't gotten into any other big arguments and although it seemed like Brooklyn was taking her anger out on Hailey instead of him, he tried to stay out of it. After what had happened the last time he got involved, he figured that it was better to let the girls work their own problems out. Although he wanted to defend Hailey, especially since she had been waking up sick nearly every morning, he wasn't going to step in unless it got extreme.

After picking up a new batch of drugs and making a few deliveries, Nick had called it a day and returned to the warehouse. Brooklyn had been gone for most of the day but he wanted to hang out with her before she had to go to work, and was glad to see her walk in around seven. She gave him a cigarette and took a seat on their mattress, which Nick had taken the liberty to buy new sheets and blankets for a few days before in response to Brooklyn's dislike towards their living conditions.

"Just the usual," he responded as he relocated to sit next to her on the mattress. He had smoked a joint only a few minutes before so rather than smoking the cigarette right away, he tucked it into the half-empty pack in his pocket. "You buy Killens a pack yet?" he asked. "You probably owe him like twenty," he added with a grin. They all bummed cigarettes off of each other but Brooklyn had a tendency to use Roman's on a daily basis.

"Speaking of that, have you seen Killens around lately?" he questioned, trying not to sound too concerned. While he hadn't brought it up to anyone, Nick had seen a change in Killens over the past week. He was always pretty quiet and passive to most things that occurred in the warehouse but recently he had been isolating himself even more. He would be gone for most of the day and for the few hours that he was in the warehouse, he was asleep.

A stench woke him up. At first he wasn't sure where he was and laid on the bed delusional. He'd drifted off and on again some odd number of times before he finally rolled over upon getting suddenly nauseous. He dry heaved and the act woke up his senses, telling him that his jaw was stiff as was everywhere else in his body. It wasn't necessarily painful as much as it was a dull ache, but it was still uncomfortable. The drug was still in effect although it was wearing off. When he peaked outside he was surprised to be greeted by so much light. It was at least noon, if not later. He watched some people pass for a few moments before returning to the bed and lying there until the sky was red. The door opened and a woman came in, moving loudly. She said something directed at him, it sounded like an insult, but he had tuned her out. Roman got up only two minutes after she arrived and went into the bathroom. After taking a look in the mirror and taking a lukewarm shower, he put on the clothes he wore yesterday and left.

The past week hadn't been his best. To sum it up, it was nothing but fighting, eating and sleeping. The drug Robbie had given him worked in a sense. The pain was gone, but it seemed to be destroying his fighting career. It made him so drowsy that it took effort just to walk down the street. People walked around him with annoyed glances thrown his way. He was headed to the warehouse which he hadn't been in maybe a day and a half. He returned sometimes, just for a quick rest or to get something he needed, but other than that he had been elsewhere. It wasn't initially intentional or an act against any of those in the warehouse. The night after his big fight he was so badly bruised--physically and mentally--that he didn't have the energy to go back, and that energy still hadn't returned. Not only that but he was pretty embarrassed. After that first time, he just didn't feel like it was necessary to go back to the warehouse. When he finally did, though, being there just made him angrier.

At the warehouse, he made an effort not to converse with anybody and gradually he made his trips shorter and shorter. He knew it came off a certain way, but at this point he didn't care. In his mind he owed no explanation, but internally he knew it was because he didn't have a legitimate one. Killens was aware he probably seemed off; he felt different himself. He was angry at himself for being that way, but in a way he felt like he deserved it. It was so much easier hating the world than trying to look for the good in it. He saw his avoidance as the best way to cope and supposed it was a sort of punishment to himself for messing up so much recently. He reasoned that if he couldn't think of a good enough reason to stay, then he didn't need to. Not only that, but he hadn't even realized how long he'd been doing this. He passed a newspaper stand with the date reading May 27th. Almost two weeks had passed.

Roman walked the remaining blocks to the warehouse feeling an anxiety rise in his chest. When he'd looked in the mirror earlier, his face was discolored. One of his eyes was a bluish-purple underneath, swollen. His lip was plump and his face was bruised, but he'd been in far worse conditions. If anything, most of the damage was underneath his shirt, but he'd wrapped his torso the previous night. Pressure helped the pain.

When he got to the warehouse, he entered silently. Roman went straight to his mattress and sat with his back to the rest. He undid his wrist rhythmically after he lit a cigarette and reapplied a fresh wrap. Once he was finished and it was tight enough, he began to repack his backpack before he headed out for the night.

Brooklyn rested her head against Nick's shoulder once he sat down next to her. Maybe it was because she had spent all day out, but at the moment, she was content with being in the warehouse as long as it meant she was with Nick. He was such a good guy, such a nice guy, and Brooklyn knew that she failed to appreciate this some times.

"Killens can kiss my ass," she joked as Nick inquired about her cigarette debt. She flipped the top of her Marlboro pack up and down between her fingers before tossing it into one of their boxes. She brought her face closer to Nick's head and gently pressed her lips to his ear. "Who cares where he is? All that matters is that he's out and so is everyone else," she whispered, kissing his neck before pulling away.

Before they could go any farther though, the warehouse door opened not once, but twice. Hailey entered first, dumping her belongings on her mattress before hurrying up to the roof. Brooklyn raised an eyebrow at her, surprised that she didn't even acknowledge them being there. Well, she was more surprised that she didn't acknowledge Nick. She and Hailey weren't on the best terms so she wasn't really expecting a warm greeting from the girl. However, it was probably best that Hailey had ignored them because Brooklyn would have felt the need to say something nasty to her.

Brooklyn shrugged and turned her attention back to Nick, but then the second person entered. It was Killens and like Hailey, he didn't acknowledge them. Normally this would have been strange since the three of them were close and had been friends for years, but recently Killens was distancing himself from everyone. Judging by Nick's question about seeing him, Brooklyn could tell that her boyfriend was concerned and while she was too, she tried not to pay too much attention to it.

"Normally I would kill you for ruining our moment, but I guess we've missed you enough to let it slide this time," Brooklyn said, pulling away from Nick and directing her attention to Roman. She watched him pile things into his backpack before speaking again. "Don't tell me that you've got a girl out there who's been stealing all of your attention," she joked, trying to get Roman to loosen up.

"Please, Brook," Roman said upon her witty comment. At first he ignored her, but his fuse was short today. "We all know you don't need my help when it comes to ruining a moment." He stopped mid-movement and set down what he was holding to turn some and face her. "And if I were you, I wouldn't be worried about my personal affairs. You know, it used to really confuse me," he said with a laugh as he turned around and finished packing. He motioned his hand between Nick and Brooklyn lazily. "How you and Nick stayed together so long, but I guess it would take a lot of drugs and weed to deal with you twenty-four seven." Roman zipped his bag and lied back on his mattress. "And for that, Nick, I duly applaud you."

Roman looked up at the ceiling. The familiar smell of the warehouse was almost nostalgic. He supposed he could fit in a short nap before the night. He'd slept most of the day anyway, but he still managed to be tired. Roman picked at his nails. They were cracked and black with grime underneath. His hands were stiff and calloused; evolution at its best. Years on the streets hardened you inside and out.

It was pretty humid where he was, especially for being so late in the evening. He began to wonder if he could fall asleep at all. Usually he would think himself to sleep, just wondering aimlessly about nothing really. Or too much at once for anything to really be that important. Now, he was empty. He had nothing to think about or to ponder. If anything, he just wanted to lie there forever and just remain like that. Void and numb. Once you succumbed to it, it was a nice feeling. But that ache in his lower back wasn't. He leaned over and reached in his backpack. At the bottom he found the pills. After opening them with one hand, he pulled out two and dry swallowed as he rested his head on the bumpy, uneven mattress. He had another one tonight, but he didn't bother to worry at this point. The pills weren't helping. Nothing was really. If he just focused, he told himself insistently, he could win this one.

He'd been worrying so much lately that it was probably screwing with the effects. Or maybe he needed something stronger. He could find something stronger on his own. Without the help of no good Robbie or Nick. Roman was tired of leaning on people because he hated not being able to fend for himself. Thinking about Nick saving his ass all those years back, or even more recently going to Robbie of all people for help, and now not even being able to do the one thing he was good at, the one thing that was all about protecting yourself, welled an unknown fury in his chest. He was determined to win tonight. He'd leave earlier and find someone who could actually give him what he needed. It was no wonder he was so sick of coming to the warehouse; it was the people in it. They were holding him back, but not for much longer. Things were going to change.

Nick was intrigued by Brooklyn's surprisingly good mood. He grinned as she nestled her body against his, knowing what would come next based off of her encouraging words. However, before they could get very far, the warehouse door opened. Hailey came in and without even an acknowledging glance in their direction, she ran up the rusty stairs that led to the roof. Although she was usually a bit friendlier than that, Brooklyn and her hadn't been getting along lately and her going to the roof would probably prevent a problem anyway. Nick assumed that Hailey was trying to avoid confrontation, being the bigger person that Brooklyn never seemed to be able to be.

Before he could make the next move with Brooklyn, the door was pushed open again, now because of Killens. This time, it was Nick who wasn't interested in greeting the friend but just as he went to return Brooklyn's kiss, she addressed Killens playfully. Having not seen Brooklyn all day, Nick was ready to agree that Roman was being a bit of a cock block by coming in right when they were about to get intimate. He smiled though and glanced in Roman's direction, expecting a light comeback or even just a simple middle finger to dismiss Brooklyn's joke. Instead, though, his response was sharp and insulting.

Nick was taken aback. Sure, Killens had been distant lately and his temper seemed shorter, but Nick was unsure of when he went from just being isolated to being an ass. There was something weird about him lately and Nick was quick to blame it on the fighting. Even with an extensive knowledge of drugs, he didn't suspect that Killens was using anything, simply because Killens had never come to him to buy anything, or even just for advice on the subject. It was probably ignorant and naive of him, but Nick couldn't imagine his best friend purposely getting drugs from someone else in secret. It wouldn't fit Killens' character.

It took a moment for Nick to realize that Killens wasn't joking around and although he considered waiting for Brooklyn's response, Nick's pride got the best of him. He pulled away from Brooklyn and got to his feet, before making his way over to Killens who had laid down on his mattress.

"Are you joking with that shit, man?" he asked angrily, kicking the side of the mattress to catch Killens' attention. Nick disliked the idea of getting in an argument with Killens because they had been best friends, nearly brothers, for so long, but he wasn't going to let anyone talk down to his girlfriend. Normally Nick would have let Brooklyn fight her own battle, and even now he wasn't sure how she was going to react, but after their fight the week before, he tried to step up his game of being a good boyfriend.

Robbie was halfway down the street from the warehouse but decided to make a quick detour at a pizza place that was right at the corner. You could smell the pizza’s being made from outside the building and inside was just like heaven. The door gave a slight chime when he walked in and it was all eyes on him, a natural reaction when something gets your attention. Most of the eyes immediately left him but a few stood on him and he could only imagine what those people were saying and in all honesty he didn’t give a shit. He may have been brought up to care but that was way behind him, if someone looks at him funny or tries to start something Robbie sees them as nothing more than simpleton.

There was only one person in front of him, the rest were either sitting down waiting for their pizza to be done or eating. Robbie had his hands in his pockets, playing with lighter with his right, as he looked up at the menu thinking about what he wanted. After the third role of the lighter his knuckle brushed against the matches. Pulling them out he rolled it around in his hand it was a black pack with baby blue writing on it that read 1888 Bar & Lounge. He’d never heard of it or at least didn’t recall it. He was snapped out of his thought process by a mumbled voice, looking up he suddenly remember he had ear plugs in. Pulling one out he stepped up to the counter mumbled a slight apology and ordered a slice of pepperoni pizza as he pocketed the matches. He was only standing around for about three minutes before they handed him his order and he was on his way back to the warehouse.

The noise was more bearable so he took out the second plug and threw them in a waste bin at the corner of the street along with the crust from the pizza that he downed. He couldn’t help but find himself looking at the matches as he walked, there was only one thing he hated and that was not remembering. He was always alert even when he was high and could always recall the things he’s done while under the influence. So for him to completely forget what he’s done was just rubbing him the wrong way. With the way his face looked he could only assume he had either gotten into a fight or just got super messed up and face planted in the street. It wouldn’t be the first time he messed himself up while plastered.

“Eh, you guys know what I did la-” he cut himself short stepping into a clearly tense atmosphere.

From the corner of his eye, Roman had seen him approaching. He was in such a daze, though, that it didn't reach him until Nick had kicked the mattress. Killens sat up instantly and looked at him. Typically he would have backed down almost immediately, although typically he never would have provoked Nick the way he had just done. As was common knowledge now, Killens had changed a bit over the past few weeks. Even the way he glared at Nick as he stood from his mattress sloppily, groggily, his eyes were crazed with anger. Roman thought back to needing to win a fight. This was one he could do. He was sure of it, and before he knew what had happened next, his hand was around Nick's neck, pushing him back.

"Did it sound like I was joking?" he said with a violent shove. Killens caught his footing, having lost his step as was common now. His arms felt heavy as well as his head and he swayed some. Roman could feel his heart beating rapidly; it was almost distracting. He stopped in his tracks and listened to it, dulled out by how loud it sounded to him. He looked around the warehouse, unsure if the sound was really coming from him or not. He stayed like that for a few seconds before coming to again, his anger resurfacing. He shoved Nick back again, even if Nick hadn't started on him. "You think you can boss me around like you do everyone else?" He pushed him again. "Don't make me kick your ass in front of your girlfriend."

It was clear that Nick had just smoked, from the way his eyes looked, so it should have been easier to push him around, but for some reason it felt like Roman was pushing against a wall. This only got him angrier, and although he was the one performing most of the aggression, he felt as though Nick were mocking him. He'd managed to work it in a way that his mind could fathom, in a way that could justify him shouting, "I'll do it," repeatedly. He pulled Nick to him only to push him again. His hand clenched and unclenched as if he was going to hit him, but for some reason he didn't at that moment.

Not until he reasoned that he deserved this. This was the one he was going to win. He wouldn't go easy on Nick just because he was a so called friend. Just because Nick thought he had some type of power over everyone else. Friends didn't make fun of other friends. He had a right to hit him square in the mouth, which was what he did, although it mostly just clipped his jaw. He stumbled forward into Nick some from swinging so quickly, as if it took him off guard somehow. Roman rolled out his neck as though they were actually having a match, so caught up in the moment he wasn't even sure why he was trying to fight Nick to begin with. He stood in a confused state again, feeling very heavy and swaying some. His mind was very foggy, but he stood standing, trying to keep focus on Nick, who seemed to be fading in and out of focus.

It went against Nick's normal reactions, but he didn't hit back when Killens began to shove him. Nick rarely took part in verbal arguments with anyone, which was why his fight with Brooklyn was so noteworthy, but physical altercations were a different story. During his first year in New York, when he was living with the guys who brought him into the world of drug dealing, Nick learned that you either shoot or get shot. The idea of survival of the fittest was drilled into his brain and for good reason, too, as the streets were a dangerous place.

The first few pushes caused Nick to tense up but he soon loosened up, allowing Killens to grab and shove at him. He wanted to make a point that he wasn't fighting back because while the shoves were strong enough to cause Nick to stumble back a few steps before regaining his balance, he could tell that something was off with Killens. The person standing in front of him wasn't the same guy that Nick had befriended years ago, or even the guy he knew a month ago. He was darker and more volatile and Nick didn't think that him shoving back would solve anything.

Nick wasn't expecting the fist that came flying at his face but was able to turn his head away so Roman's hand really only caught him in the jaw. Still, the pain was there and judging by the taste of iron on his tounge, Nick could tell that he had bit down and split his lip in the process - or at least that was what he hoped the blood was from. His fairly passive mindset turned to an aggressive one and his survivalist mode seemed to take over for a quick minute as thoughts raced through his mind. He reasoned with himself that Killens had clearly changed, so if he fought back, it wasn't like he was fighting his friend because the person standing before him wasn't a friend. Then, part of Nick wondered if Killens had some sort of mental illness. Maybe he was some mentally unstable person who would just snap and suddenly turn into a psychopath. It seemed reasonable and Nick thought he had once learned that a lot of extremely intelligent people had some type of mental illness.

After a few seconds, Nick pulled his hand away from his sore jaw and shook the blood off of his fingers. He could feel his hands shaking now, ready to take his turn at unleashing his anger on Killens, but he glanced over at Brooklyn and realized that he couldn't do it. The three of them had had so many good times and been there for each other for so long that it just seemed wrong to do. Killens was family and regardless of what he was going through, Nick wasn't going to physically hurt him. At the same time though, he wasn't going to let Killens punch him in the face and not defend himself.

Nick stepped backwards towards Brooklyn but kept his eyes focused on Roman. "Get the fuck out of here before I blow your pathetic ass up, like I should have the first time I saw you," he said, not waiting for Killens' response before returning to Brooklyn. Nick had only shot two people after the night he found Roman, and neither shot were put out with the intentions to kill, so although he knew that he would never in a million years do it, he was surprised with himself for even referencing shooting Roman.

His violent past was something that he was almost embarrassed to admit nowadays, but moments like this made him want to boast about it. Sure, Roman might have broken some bones during his matches with other fighters, but Nick didn't think that he was as bad as he was acting. A few punches and jabs to make a living was nothing compared to murdering people.

He maintained his sight on Killens once he sat down in the lawn chair, waiting to see what he would do and also unsure of what Brooklyn to do. Being in the zone, Nick hadn't even noticed Robbie who had walked in during the fight, and even less so now that he had distanced himself from Roman. He felt like he should have done something, like he should have punched Killens back but telling him to leave seemed to be the best course of action, even in his moment of rage.

The altercation between Nick and Roman was unexpected, even considering Roman's bitter comment directed at her. Brooklyn had seen Nick fired up many times before but she couldn't remember a time when his anger was directed at Roman. They fought like brothers but never like this, as if they were enemies. She could tell just by the look in their eyes that this was more serious than any pretty argument and that was confirmed when Roman's rough shoves escalated into a fist grazing Nick's face.

Brooklyn felt like she wasn't even in her body as she watched the fight. She was frozen in place and could only watch as Roman hit Nick. She knew that Nick would fight back if he thought he was in danger but she still felt like she was also being attacked, especially when she caught sight of blood dripping off of his mouth. It would have been horrible to see anyone hurt Nick but it hurt even more that it was Killens, someone who was supposed to be Nick's best friend.

Especially after the punch, Brooklyn was surprised that Nick retreated, but the words he left Killens with stung her, even if they were probably meant to defend her. She appreciated Nick taking on a protective role, she really did, but she wished it had not played out this way. If he stuck up for her against Hailey, it would have been attractive but this was so much more of a complicated situation.

Brooklyn wasn't one to distance herself from a fight, but it was clear that Nick had already defended her honor and more, and she was honestly feeling overwhelmed by what had just happened. Once he sat down and things appeared to calm down at least for a minute, she fished some napkins out of one of their bags and tossed them to Nick to use the hopefully stop his lip from bleeding. As she looked back over at Killens, part of her felt bad for him. He was obviously having problems but what he had said to her, and even more importantly, what he had done to Nick, was so out of character and uncalled for. She didn't feel like anything going on in his personal life could justify punching Nick - who had literally saved his life - and even if she wanted to pity Killens, she couldn't do it in front of Nick who had just possibly ruined his friendship with Roman for her.

Instead of acknowledging Killens like she wanted to, she refused to even make eye contact with him or anything in his direction and focused her attention on Nick. "Do you want me to go get some ice from the soda machine at Subway?" she asked quietly, knowing it was probably the closest fast food place in the area and that Nick's lip would probably start swelling soon.

Braden's day was nothing out of the ordinary. He slept until eleven in the morning, smoked, went back to bed for another three hours and woke up around two in the afternoon. No one was in the warehouse at the time but Braden was already well rested and had smoked earlier, so he had no reason to hang around either. He headed to Time's Square and spent a few hours pick pocketing tourists. Braden had gotten used to mugging people with the cover of darkness as his shield, so he was a bit rusty with doing it in broad daylight. However, his targets were mostly older people who barely noticed anything, let alone a quick hand into the side pocket of their bags, or tourists who were completely mesmerized and overwhelmed by the excitement on New York to notice.

By the time that the evening rolled around he had stolen a few wallets containing a total of a couple hundred dollars. It was sometimes worth it to sell the empty wallets to pawn shops or thrift stores, but Braden was too tired to do that and decided he'd give them to Robbie to sell to his guy. Braden knew that Robbie had a deal with some guy who owned a pawn shop and figured that if Braden offered him half of the profits, Robbie would probably be able to sell them to that shop for him.

He headed back to the warehouse and the first person he saw was Robbie. He was standing close to the doorway but once Braden stepped in, he could tell that something was off. Roman seemed to be fuming near his bed and Nick was sitting in his own area with a napkin pressed to his mouth and Brooklyn hovering over his side. It seemed like drama and Braden had no intention of getting involved with it. Plus, his high had worn off hours ago and he was ready to smoke again. After grabbing a dime bag and lighter out of his backpack, he tossed it onto his mattress and jogged upstairs to the roof.

He had the intention of smoking, only until he saw Hailey sitting a few feet away from the entryway. Her back was too him, so Braden quietly approached her and sat down next to her, giving her a playful nudge with his shoulder as he did. "I didn't expect to see you up here," he began, placing his lighter and weed to the side. He had learned that Hailey wasn't a smoker and wasn't going to do it around her. They had gotten closer and more comfortable with just hanging out with each other over the past two weeks, even though it was still all secret, so he was okay with talking to her soberly. "Where have you been all day? I didn't get my normal wake-up call from Holly and no one was here when I woke up."