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Corey A. Delgado

"It's very easy to be difficult. But, very difficult to be better.." WIP History

0 · 945 views · located in New York City, US

a character in “The Wild & The Wicked”, as played by Naught


"There is only two things that could kill me. Drugs and the Mob. Now don't ask me why, or i'll have to kill you."

Who I Really Am

Corey Armani Delgado



December 26

Sexual Orientation
Omnisexual | Pansexual

50% Italian | 50% English

Used to help his father and drive around town to help 'escape' during his jobs. But, other than that -after he had moved-, he now works as a private detective helping people privately and that is almost the image of his past just the good side. His old employment from a dead mob bosses son to a private investigator has really shined a light in his eyes. Hopefully the light stays there, keeping him away from his old ways.

Look At Me For Me

ImageHair Color

Dark Brown | Gets his hair and the color from his father another dominate color from his mothers bleach blonde. He doesn't think he'd look good with it anyway.

Eye Color

Light Blue | He gets this from his mothers side, though his fathers eyes were plain brown and simple he was lucky enough to get the submissive eye color.






There is one that can barely be seen going up and down his eye, where one of his fathers 'friends' swung a knife at his eye, and it barely missed. There are tiny little pecks of scars from when he fell out of a window when he was 17. He hasn't gotten any other scars after he left Europe. Sometimes he tends to hurt himself whenever he is trying to chase down a missing person but, other than that, they aren't really scarring.


Corey loves tattoos he doesn't have too many, the pain is nothing. There is one that paints a big image on his back. There are matching tribal tattoos on the sides of his back and a dragon placed in the middle. It signifies a warrior fighting with fire trying to escape as fast as he can before it is too late. There are two matching tribal tattoos on his shoulders, they signify the strength the warrior has and he isn't afraid to go above his limits to get what he wants.

You Don't Know Me

| Quiet, Reserved, Secretive, Persuasive, Questioning, Loyal, Trusting, Careful, Easily Annoyed |

Corey is a quiet and reserved person. He doesn't like people getting into his business and he doesn't like getting into other peoples business. Keeping to himself is very important to him. Not wanting to reminisce about the past or any love or family he has had. All is good with him as long as someone doesn't question anything too personal. He isn't too comfortable with talking, especially when talking to someone new. Let's just say he is the type of person to speak once spoken to. He's also good at staying quiet about a lot of things, he tries to stretch the truth about him just a little so that no one would refer to him as anything dangerous or threatening.

When trying to get information out of someone, he'll be as persuasive and questioning as can be. It is a flaw of his really, because when talking to someone he'll always question them and it sort of makes them feel uncomfortable. When someone has something he needs, he'll do anything to get them to give it to him. Sometimes he'll use reverse psychology to confuse them and he ends up taking it even if they had said no. He won't act like a different person he won't put on a mask and change his name, it would give him away quickly. Corey is more used to going with the flow and hoping that he would get the information that is needed.

Easy to trust but, he cannot trust easily, he'll do whatever someone says, with no questions asked but, if he isn't comfortable he won't be able to do it. Corey is a very loyal and trusting person. The fact of betraying someone so close to him is just a sin to him, though he has only done it so many times. Sure call him a hypocrite but, Corey wouldn't care. Anyone can trust him with anything, he will hold onto a secret for so long the person that told him the secret would soon forget that they had even told him the secret. Corey is very careful with himself and his things, he is also careful with his surroundings and other peoples things. No one would ever see a bruise or scar on his body but, if they do it'll only be a little one. He's somewhat careful with what comes out of his mouth, he doesn't like the sound or the sight of crying and he doesn't want to be the cause of it. Too much energy and time being wasted on drama and a couple of words.

When he hears a loud noise or when someone keeps talking in his ear, he'll get annoyed suddenly. When he misses something, or hen he doesn't walk or talk the same way, he gets annoyed suddenly. When someone is messing with their hair, when people laugh too loud, when he cannot finish something fast enough; he gets annoyed suddenly. It doesn't matter how big or small the problem is, he will get easily annoyed. He's just not used to the little things people do, and he still doesn't understand it. He even gets annoyed with himself when he doesn't breathe in a certain way. That's just another little flaw he has.

Being left alone
Warm things
Horror movies
His job
The summer
Unique things

The Mob
People doing too much
Walking in the dark
People who drive while drunk
Annoying sounds
People who act dumb
Winter weather
Hard decisions

Buff dudes wearing black
Seeing his father die over and over again
His mother dying as well

Those Fucked Up Memories

In For The Kill

Corey Delgado lost his father when he was 18, the bad thing about that was his father was bringing him closer to the mob and it wasn't too late to do things of his own. Well it was like he was living a brand new life away from the old. If his father was still around, he'd probably be disappointed and angry, his son didn't carry on what he had left off. Sure, Corey could kill anything and anyone if he had the power to, he was too soft for that. He really didn't want to see anyone die and he didn't want to the cause of them dying. Because, when his guilty conscience started running, it will never turn off.

Though he is still quite young, he felt that he had wasted most of his life with the mob and his dad, he didn't know where else to go. All he knew was that he had to get away and as long as he was away, he was safe. The mob would always find something or someone, it might not be as quick as they say but, they will find the person that they need and they never spare their lives.

So begins...

Corey A. Delgado's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado
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#, as written by Naught


Rubbing his hands to get rid of the cold air that brushed against him, the friction his hands had received from rubbing against each other and created heat. He was waiting on someone though he knew nothing of who the person was. He was out here, early in the morning working on a case this person should have gave him in the afternoon, yesterday. Well, it was better than being in that 'building' he was currently staying at. But, it was the only thing he could afford when first coming around here.

"Thank you so much I really needed this."

He heard a feminine voice coming out of a odd looking building with tons of graffiti sprayed across it. Corey waited for a little while before slowly following the brown headed girl down the crowded street. He tried the best of his ability to try to look less suspicious, and more worldly and normal. Well, he wasn't and he wasn't at home. Looking up as the girl crossed the street he crossed the street a few minutes after the female had walked towards the corner of the street.

"Where is she going today?"

Staring at the girl as she turned into an alleyway, he leaned against the wall and waited for a minute before peeking around the corner little by little. She was gone.. He had lost her once again. He hoped she hadn't figured out that she was being secretly watched because, of some specious activity seen by multiple friends and family. If they would've did that around the mob they all would've been killed in a matter of minutes.

But, this wasn't the mob, this was a whole new place. He has his chance to forget the things he left behind. His family, his father's death and the mob. Sighing heavily as he pushed himself off the wall and headed towards the apartment or whatever they called it.

"Empire my ass." The only thing that was like an empire was he didn't have to share a room or get to know anyone.

Walking into the building he really didn't know many people and if he did he only seen them around once in a while. He almost forgot that there was a certain meeting going on today. He only been there for a couple of months, and he wasn't used to his surroundings just yet. Though some of the things were a bit interesting, he had still gotten confused at some things.

Shaking his head for a moment or two, he walked and sit down by a few people not really enjoying the crowded group around him he was just trying to get used to it. This meeting wouldn't that long anyways.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Elliot Monroe Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Alexandra Kaersson Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan Character Portrait: Patrick Murphy Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Hudson Hawthorn Character Portrait: Adam Banksys Character Portrait: Lee Harris
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The woman’s deteriorating height, a product of age and unyielding scoliosis, stiffened when one of the newer tenants commented on her appearance. Maybe inwardly she welled with strange pride, but her near black eyes twitched at his cry for attention. At least, that’s how she saw it. Adam picked up on it straight away, sagging in his seat with his knees wide and his hands folded between them. A satisfied smirk beset slightly dried lips only to briefly flash a pair of canines. Elise Furman narrowed her gaze, briefly touching a hand to silver hair by her ear as she waited for the evident amusement in her audience to fade away. She was by no means humored by tawdry young men that lived in the complex. But they all paid their rent on time, which only left her to remind them of their place in the world, rules and common courtesy.

Adam tilted his head at the mirth escaping a nearby femme’s throat. This widened his gratified smile, but he looked straight ahead to maintain at least a sense of false attention. He knew her. Juliet. Platinum hair framed her round face and unceasingly blue eyes that peered out like toxin dripping away from shadows. She probably looked down on him; a girl who regularly worked behind a bar and dealt with shit slinging from junkies and alcoholics might not have the tolerance for his type. On top of his less than admirable ways, he was a new tenant. A young one at that. He already knew most of the other residents thought he was brazen. He couldn’t be fucked to give a damn about any of them - with a slivering exclusion where tail was involved. Luckily for Adam, he didn’t have a type. He just liked women. And the building was full of them. Beautiful, all of them. None of them a day over twenty five. But there were always those few diamonds in the rough. The ones that meant or shone a little more than the others. Truly, he had trouble identifying if anyone from Empire Heights fit into that tier, but he never necessarily bothered trying to find out either. Life had become less of a romantic conquest and more of a crooked hustle.

Or, life had never yielded any real romance to begin with.

After sweeping his gaze shamelessly over the girl next to him, Moni - something or another, Amil, and Juliet once again, Adam smugly tuned into Furman’s speech. It droned. Furman stood, a curving spine making her look ready to drop like a fly. She fought the urge to take a seat as she paced across the anterior of the room. Her creaking voice stuck to stoic walls, causing the uninterested turnout to groan and shift in their chairs like sophomores listening to scientific theory.

“I know we’ve been talking renovations for months but in a few days painters are coming in to fix up the main foyers. Some drywall construction will follow, so I’ll need you all to be patient with the noise and temporary chaos. As per usual you’re expected to abide by EH regulations, your leases…”

A distinct shuffling noise was heard as Spitz grabbed his snapback and twisted it in his hands, rocking on his chair. They’d all grown bored. Behind Spitz, the diva from the seventh floor hung her head back and closed her catlike eyes. Her arm was rested behind Monroe’s neck who was equally as passionless about the meeting as anyone else. Adam slipped away from his position in the back and crept towards the couple, making his presence known once he threw himself between them, half on each of their laps. Furman finally rolled her eyes and threw her hands up, “Just pay your rent okay?”

Before they could throw him off, he grabbed both of their faces and smeared a sloppy kiss on their cheeks, “Beautiful couple. Really.” With a mock tipoff, he turned his focus to Jaylene whose cheeks had significantly drawn in with disapproval. “So, Jasmine, what kind of treats you got planned for me and my friends tonight? I’m sure good old Monroe will help you fix everything up real nice.”

“It’s Jaylene, moron.” She sighed.
“Jaylene Monroe you said? See that’s what I thought I heard.”
“Soon to be.” She countered, batting long lashes at Elliot with mock adoration.
“Go getting married to strangers you find in the big city and you might end up on dateline. You never really know anyone.” Adam messed up Elliot’s hair and got to his feet again.
“Just be at Manhattan Tower around nine, that’s when shit will get real, so to speak.” Jaylene drawled, interest lost on whatever Adam had to ramble about.
“Should I wear a tux to compliment your Dior, barbie?”
“You’d have to know what Dior is in order to compliment it, grease monkey.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when your BMW needs a tune up.”

The blond shrugged, playfully rubbing at Monroe’s shoulder before she stretched her long legs and slithered away from Adam. All the while she still wore this convincing smile as though she were talking her way through a business meeting and not a cat-and-mouse conversation. She made quick work of scuttling towards the front of the room, straightening her unduly large cardigan and wrapping it around herself for a moment. Adam raised his brows, ultramarine eyes feigning interest. He glimpsed towards Monroe, “You’re fucked up, b. Leading a pretty thing on like that. She has no idea what she’s gotten into.” Clownishly the young man showed a few teeth to signify slim sarcasm. Spitz and Adam had a bad habit of heckling the guy, but if Monroe knew anything, he knew that they meant no harm. If anything they had his back.

Adam dug his hands into the pockets of his khakis. His weight rocked back and forth from his knees as he peered toward Jaylene and then back down at her consort, nodding in preparation to roam lazily back to Spitz. He’d only looked over his shoulder once or twice in delay to glance at the selection of femmes in the room.

It wasn’t long before the room filled. Amil was already present, bantering with Patrick which made the slumlord at the head of her EH circus sighed with irritation. Spitz sympathized with the senescent woman. She bit off maybe more than she could chew, welcoming a swarm of young adults with the gleaming luxury of no background checks. All in all, the old broad wasn’t so bad. She was subtly maternal. She gave homes to the desperate and the crestfallen. When her speech concluded, she’d risen her white flag with her arthritic hands and disappeared.

ImageSpitz glanced around, expecting an applause to commence. Instead he heard sighs of relief and a few explicits, all together mashing up in his brain like cerebral stuffing. The train wreck sweet had his mind flying and his face eternally glazed with this ridiculous, smitten look. Cocoa eyes seemed to squint as they took in his surroundings. Natural light flooded the open room to forcefully push tired tenants into its submission. Meanwhile he sat kind of slouched, his hat in his hands, simpering. Behind him he could hear Banksy harassing Jaylene and Elliot about the party at Manhattan Tower, which honestly didn’t actually need to be discussed. Once the sun dipped down, it was all gonna’ pop off like the party of the century and everything else would fall into place. Banksy’s main mannerism was always needing to know precise details. But Spitz was never easily irritated at irrelevant matters. Usually he’d smirk and listen to the bullshit, nodding absentmindedly. Because it was, and would continue to be, all good.

Finally he let out a yawn that he’d been squashing for the past hour. New breath stretched in his sternum and was just in the midst of encouraging him to stand up when Jaylene was evidently preparing for a small speech. So, Spitz adjusted his posture even if only a little and gave her his full attention while Banksy shamelessly yanked a metal chair across the floor and plopped into it beside his partner in crime. Giving him a sideways look of fraud disapproval, Spitz mumbled, “Ain’t you got manners homie?” In response, glassy blue eyes narrowed and Banksy just shrugged looking out of his mind.

Despite wanting to take a better inspection of the room and its inhabitants, only because he expected Kaleb to exit as soon as he saw Jaylene prepared to talk to EH leaseholders, Spitz stayed in place and maintained focus. He still got guilty pleasure out of watching men squirm around his homegirl he met back in Canada. It was funny they’d all bumped heads in a sort of lamentable coincidence. She’d grown significantly since then but Spitz was always a maddening reminder of what she used to be, do, and play. He respected that she was a strictly business type anymore, but he knew how fiends were even after some time off. Underneath they were just dying for a hit. Thinking about it, Spitz grinned and lowered his eyes as she started to speak, itching at his braids.

Alexandra had taken a seat far from the EH crew, blatantly occupying the last couch and claiming it as her own. One of the new tenants Spitz regretfully didn’t know too well took a seat betwixt other residents. Corey, was his name. He seemed perplexed most times, or intrigued. Something in Spitz’ intuition screamed, ’Red flag!’ every time he saw him though. But he was willing to give the benefit of the doubt.

Faintly drifting off he contemplated potential risks of the night. He’d have to worry about undercovers who were always trailing him in some way. To date none of them quite caught on. Rookies from the local department would get close, find some contacts, but never get to the overlord, so to speak. The cycle was unending and fruitless for law enforcement. Spitz was a proud, cocky man at times. But he wasn’t stupid, and he stopped leaving his tracks a long time ago. He could pawn off a lot of business as friendships effortlessly anymore. They could try as hard as they wanted, that shit always went cold.

When Jaylene finished, he became vertical and called out loudly, “Bring your girls, bring your girl’s girlfriends. Lessssss be honnnnest. We’ll treat y’all real good.” The feedback he got was under-the-breath laughs and a few of his neighbors blushing and beaming.


”Come on, we wouldn't want to be late."

Though Jaylene picked up on the apparent dismay in Elliot’s face at the thought of having to ‘work’ on his one day off, he didn’t have to be wooed too meticulously. At least not when it came to her. She could chalk it up to her charming personality if she was feeling narcissistic but… She wasn’t going to give herself that much credit. And if anyone knew that the young woman wasn’t so truly charming and well-mannered, it was Elliot. Indicting the young woman with being a maneater was a knee-slapper. In fact sometimes she felt more than a little rusty at the dating game. Of course rumors circulated. But she hadn’t taken anyone home in a long time. The truth of the matter was, Elliot was her second self. People could believe what they wanted and, at the end of the day, the two were just great friends who had trouble saying no to each other. Being worn on his arm gave her a sense of pride and vindication.

Throughout their wait during the elevator’s descent, Jaylene flexed her fingers with disappointment. Her joints were sore. Mildly she muttered, “I’m catching up with Furman.” She drew in deep breaths through the nostrils of her straight nose, trying to work with what caffeine was in her body.

A somehow pleasant ‘ding!’ welcomed the duo to the second floor. The pleasantry however was vastly overshadowed by the frayed subject matter that would be vomited onto EH renter’s in just a few moments. But by this time, Elliot and Jaylene were regular equerries of Elise Furman and almost like teacher’s pets. They’d held up their ends, kept tidy, didn’t complain and stayed to themselves for the most part. Jaylene couldn’t necessarily speak for her friend, but she knew that she hardly mingled with her neighbors. Quiet and observant suited her best. In addition to less than kind vices, she wasn’t just going to dive headfirst back into her history. It was an ongoing battle within herself. Maybe it was better to be looked at as the stuckup bitch than the coke whore? She almost laughed when the designations resounded in her head. Nope, she wasn’t going back to that persona any time soon. Clean for four years, give or take. Soda Pop was a ghost. A memory floating in Belleville, Canada. Where teens were so bored that they hit lines endlessly, fucked the friends they’d grown up alongside, and shot cops that tried to tell them they had a substance problem.

Jaylene strolled into the cafeteria area, towards the side of the room that was designated for gatherings. The poise she corroborated with Elliot was almost laughable considering the two were by no means a couple or nimble. Spitz was already seated a few rows ahead, and the seizure of plush seating was clutched by the pretty alternative model, Amil, and Patrick. The way the two got on kind of reminded Jaylene of Elliot and herself but tweaked in more ways than one. As expected the last couch was snagged by Alexandra, a young beautiful woman. Jaylene commonly recognized her as the blond head that bobbed down the hallways with Beats in her ears.

The walls were painfully bare, an uncanny reflection of the color in nearly every apartment in the building. Because of the size of the room, the air was a little more brisk than anywhere else in Empire Heights. Jaylene wrapped herself in the cardigan as she took a seat beside Elliot. After a while, she sluggishly slung her arm around his shoulder and zeroed in on Furman’s diction. It all pulped up after a while, it was all the same. So far the Sullivan girl had no problem following the rules and keeping her land lady happy, so she confidently let the meeting fade from emphasis.

Its conclusion was ungracefully brought to hand when Adam, a prior delinquent, fell right into Jaylene and Elliot’s lap. His Supreme hoodie was thick with the scent of body spray. He rambled about Jaylene being Elliot’s fiancee, the event at Manhattan Tower, and some other completely insignificant shit that the young woman didn’t care to read into. She batted her dark lashes, rolled her green eyes and affirmed the time and the place to Spitz’ protege. Shortly thereafter she politely excused herself, wearing a twinkle that could fool America’s greatest conartist. Before anyone could escape she cleared her throat and slid into place at the head of the room. She could feel the irritation of bored and exasperated young adults, but what she had to say, she felt, was worth it for them to stay.

“Hey, guys,” she began, her voice pygmy in the room, “I’m Jaylene. Seventh floor.” Her eyes grazed the audience and skittered over Kaleb which made her swing her focus back onto anyone else. “I usually don’t do this kind of thing, but I’m busting open a huge deal for my agency and we’re having a banger at Manhattan Tower tonight. Everyone has to pay a cover charge but I’ll let you all in for free because honestly, I’d just love not to be surrounded by anorexic models all night. And, Elliot is going to be helping with the catering - he’s a great chef as some of you may already know. Listen, if nothing else, the bar will be loaded and you’ll get party favors. Everyone is seriously welcome. Like I mentioned, your cover charge is on me. Just come out and have a good time. Oh and Hudson, we would kill for a live act. I’d pay you. So, yeah. Thanks.”

Awkwardly she side stepped, ran a hand through her wavy blond hair and weaved her way back to Elliot. With a groan she continued, “Jesus Christ, the way some of them looked at me you’d think they wanted me dead.” She screwed up her face, squinting over her shoulder at Corey and then Lee. The two were so unearthly and quiet. Rolling her shoulders, she looked at Elliot and proposed, “Shall we?”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Elliot Monroe Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Alexandra Kaersson Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan Character Portrait: Patrick Murphy Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Dominique Norwood Character Portrait: Hudson Hawthorn Character Portrait: Adam Banksys
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#, as written by Jaybt9
Next to a queen sized-bed, a loud buzzing sound of a cell phone on a dark cherry stained night stand. The stereotypical introduction of an proactive city's morning. The calls of roosters couldn't strike one's ears in New York since they migrated to the South. The alarm boosted his ego during the winters, lasting longer than rooster calls. An irritant sound that could continue unless it's purpose was achieved, which was catching the attention of a person, forcing them out of the subliminal cloud above them and into the real world.

The phone continued its vibrating hum until a tan-shade hand with white nail polish came forth from under a fluffed white comforter, quickly grabbing the phone to silence it. Whose hand was this? It was not soon after that the covers folded outwards to reveal, from the waist up, a young woman as complected as the hand. A black scarf was tied her head, covering the majority of her hair, but blonde and black peeked above her forehead. Her eyes felt like they were freed from being glued together.

She figured she would listen to some rhythmic therapy to shake the cobwebs away. The volume taking a break away from silent. From a playlist of random selections, the first song to makes it way to the top was an alternative Szjerdene. The dark ethereal introduction began as she strolled towards the small bathroom by the balls of her feet. She lifted her arms to the ceiling. Her clavicle getting a soft pop to relax after 7 hours of stiff tension and busy work, and if stretching didn't work, then the warm shower would.

However, the warm shower had to be brief. Why? A mandatory meeting at 11:30 am, and it was less than an hour and a half away. The landlady could have arranged a better time. Work was at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and Dee couldn't afford to miss even a second of it from her landlady talking on and on in her “Mob Wives” Brooklyn accent. For her third day in the apartment, Dee figured her landlady wasn't lenient, or assumed that all of her tenants were young and wild. With her wide curves and large eyes, this gave off the semblance of a daunting predator, and Dee was already one of her prey who made the first mistake checking out the apartments and signing her blood on the lease.

Because of the predator, Dee couldn't be belated to the mandatory meeting either, especially when it was 10 seconds of walking distance. Why make an excuse to be late or absent? Why even attempt it? Why already start the many days in Empire Heights on a negative note? Dee had to make this meeting on time. Even with the thought of boarding a subway in order to get to work. The time to walk and take the subway felt like eternity.

But until then, she had to start the day. She traveled to her scarlet hued curtains to separate them, lifting the blinds and her lips for a wide yawn. Chilly and snow white were the characteristics of New York's November through February days and nights. The large hot ball of plasma tried it's best to shine in the apartment, only for clouds to block its way. Instead, the wintery mix dominating the city the night before caused the aftermath. The entire setting illuminating in bright honeydew hue. Dee's apartment affected by this brightness, and also nearly blinded her. Her eyes squinting, but her raising hand saved the moment by blocking her view. Once her eyes began to adjust to the abrupt transition in lightness, she witnessed every second of life outside her window. People socializing as they dug their boots into the white layer above the sidewalks. Some sidewalks covered in dirty snow from being plowed to the side by a plowing machine, while what was left on the roads melted from the large packs of organically shaped Sodium Chloride thrown around. Since they didn't have machines for sidewalks, residents had to shovel a pathway from their doorsteps. The landlady was no different. A heavily-built man of middle age decked in flannel did the heavy work for her, pushing the shovel with ease as the landlady stood at the stoop with a cigarette in one hand and a grip of her long black coat with the other, trying to keep warm from the freezing climate.

Dee's nose felt the cold winds freezing her window, attempting to slither inside of her apartment and snatch all of the moisture from her clean body. Fortunately, it fell submissive to the knob-controlled heat circulating in the homely air, mixed with warm cinnamon apple pie fresh out of the oven. This was an illusion, and the Glade plug-in beside the window was the magician. However, a chill pierced at Dee's collar, and a reminder that Dee's belt was loosening from her waist.

But all Dee would hope for was the meeting to equate to skimming the many pages of a novel until the main points were discovered. After lowering the shades to prevent any lewd public acts, she practiced her morning ritual, like any female. It was prepared and unluckily long: Aloe Vera moisturizer on her limbs and face, winter clothing with undergarments underneath, ample pink plushgloss on her lips, black eye liner, and others in between that can't be mentioned. Her five10-hour long braids loosened from her fingers, flowing curly and wild above her chest. Her appearance was finished, but later than her expected time. 11: 10 am, which she proceeded to sigh over. The thought of her landlady being a rather strict woman over lateness of any kind. Dee couldn't let that strict side emerge, so her gait began to quicken.

Her breakfast had to be quick, so a banana, two slices of toasted cinnamon bread, and a cup of orange juice could fill her up temporarily to prevent the lion in her stomach to growl at the meeting. The plate and glass cup was empty. This time? 11: 24 am. She was ready to go to the meeting....

Wait...she had to brush her teeth, but the meeting was getting closer. She couldn't brush her teeth in time, but she couldn't cause a gas of “food and morning” breath to smother the room. People may think she's exaggerating, but she was a woman. That was more than enough.

Instead of brushing her teeth, she ran to her bathroom to search for mint mouthwash under the sink, rushing to pour a dose into her cup and pour into her mouth. The gargling wasn't as directed because of the time, but it got the job done. Spitting the mouthwash into the sink, she exited the bathroom to see how many minutes left until the meeting. 2 minutes.

What was left? Leather boots, purse, money, identification, keys. She thought this would take 30 seconds because of her rushed pace.

Now she was ready for her day. She snatched a black coat from her closet, turned her music off, and headed towards the door.

Behind the stairway, she could see people already sitting in the lounge, but no heavy lady in a gown. Dee didn't have to experience her strict landlady, or so she thought......

“11: 32 am. Fashionably late aren't you?”, a voice crept behind Dee. A voice that suffered from mucus down her neck, or future throat cancer.

The fear was beginning to happen. Only because Dee was two minutes late, she had to endure being thrown under a bus, or a finger bit off. Dee just had to deal with the pressure and reply with a nod.

“Hmmm..” the landlady continued as she scanned Dee's neutral winter style,“Since this is your first meeting, I'll be easy on you this time, but do not be late again.”

Dee's heart quickly dropped. In her mind, she was shocked over the landlady giving her a warning. Just a warning for being a new tenant. To prevent judging her landlady, she couldn't express it with her face. A warning. This thought conflicted with her motor skills. She wanted to freeze like a snowman at the door.

“Go ahead and a take a seat.”, the landlady quickly commanded Dee, causing her nerves to function again. Dee left her a grinning nod before heading to her seat. An improvised seat near a window, since the other seats were taken.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Elliot Monroe Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Alexandra Kaersson Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan Character Portrait: Patrick Murphy Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Dominique Norwood Character Portrait: Hudson Hawthorn Character Portrait: Adam Banksys
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While Ms. Furman continued, Kaleb’s mind drifted before he could even realize it was happening. His eyes kept scanning over the crowd, jumping across all the faces. There was Juliet beside him, the bar vixen. He had played at a couple gigs she’d tended, and she had always slipped him a few drinks now and again. She always seemed to have someone tailing behind her, like a lost puppy begging for attention. They had never fooled around, much to his own surprise seeing that if given the opportunity he would probably do so. He had a soft spot for blondes though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Patrick Murphy
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Juliet simply shook her head at the way Amil's lips thinned when Spitz got so close to her, and the look Amil gave her out of the corner of her eyes was more than enough to back up what she was already thinking: someone was going to end up babysitting her tonight. Juliet didn't mind, the few times she had actually gotten Amil to party with her included a lot of 'here drink this', 'now this', 'how's this taste'. Amil was fun when she got trashed, like the few boundaries she actually had completely disappeared with each new shot.

She scowled when the girl pinched her, but it didn't last long because then she was being tickle attacked. Amil was probably the only person in the world who could get Juliet to laugh like that. She fell off the arm of the couch, right into Amil's lap, squealing and begging for mercy which she was soon granted. She took it upon herself to get comfortable in her friends lap, which is when she finally saw the look Amil's friend was giving them. Patrick, if she remembered right.

“I thought women were supposed to mature faster them men, I’m only two years older than you Amil and you act like a seven year old whore.”

“I may act like a fucking seven year old, but even if I acted my damn age I would still be hella years behind you, you have the enthusiasm and the floppy dick of an 90 year old man.”

Juliet snorted out a laugh, because hell that was funny. "I'm still a child at heart," she muttered with a grin. Actually, seven year old whore wasn't a bad description for them. A little morally wrong, in the scheme of things, but it fit.

She didn't know Patrick well, if at all. Amil had introduced them once or twice, but Juliet wasn't the type to really hang out with a group. The few times she had been in his presence it'd been the three of them and Kaleb, and she'd easily gotten along with Kaleb better than Patrick. She figured they were too much alike, silent observers occasionally biting out a remark.

The other male she didn't know at all, though he looked about Patrick's age. Tall, strong features, dark brown hair and eyes. She didn't feel the need to put her two cents into the conversation so she curled up against Amil more, pressing her face into the girls shoulder. She was still tired, otherwise she would probably join in on the banter. Instead she just chuckled under her breath on occasion. “We should start picking out our outfits now.”

Juliet looked up, knowing Amil's words were directed towards them. "Mm...but that means I have to get up...and you're so soft."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Elliot Monroe Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Alexandra Kaersson Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Dominique Norwood Character Portrait: Lee Harris
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#, as written by Jaybt9

After Dee settled for a wide window sill as her seat at the tenants meeting, the landlady decided to start with a cut short introduction about how blunt her words would be, since she understood that many of these young adults had jobs to keep. Dee grabbed the edge of the sill to keep her balance, and resist laying her back onto the cold glass pane. Her long legs pressed together.
“I know we’ve been talking renovations for months but in a few days painters are coming in to fix up the main foyers. Some drywall construction will follow, so I’ll need you all to be patient with the noise and temporary chaos. As per usual you’re expected to abide by EH regulations, your leases…”

Furman paused after witnessing what she knew she was going to see in front of her. Few individuals causing a scene to express how uninterested they were. A rather bold move on their part, but she tolerated it. This may have not been their first tenant meeting since they've been here. Since she was new, Dee was trying her best to listen to the landlady's plans to improve the apartments, but she also had dancing on her mind. A recital coming next Saturday and she had to practice all she could since she reduced her daily work hours for this day. She couldn't practice consecutive mornings last weekend because of moving to Empire Heights.

Dee used her 20/20 vision to glance around the room, observing the new tenants of the house. A colorful crew the Empire Heights had under its roof, including Dee herself, and a variety of body languages. Dee's “judging the book by its cover” habits were kicking in the double doors. She could honestly see herself communicating with them, but not on a friendly basis. Some seemed too flamboyant. Others seemed too cynic and anti-social, especially one of them, sitting with a cold blank look on his face. His entire frame was small. His medium brown hair combed to the back of his head. Dee wondered who this individual was. He seemed like someone from a glooming background.

Dee, however, shifted her attention from him to everyone else, trying to seek for comparisons. The obvious one being ethnicity. Only very few minorities within this group of career and thrill seekers. One man in particular, with a darker skin complexion than Dee, pushed his way onto a pair of women sitting on the couch together. Ever since Dee went to New York she had seen many men like him flirting with the blondes who could make it in a covergirl commercial. Not that Dee actually minded this behavior. She just found this amusing, since this wasn't such mainstream activity in Belleville. Everyone liked anyone they could connect to. The hair and skin color was never a preference. In New York, or better yet U.S.A., statistics were involved. She didn't understand this until her sorority sisters educated her. Bad idea. Let's just say that the word “privileges” are involved.

And this girl he was pushing his appeal on was not the only blonde in the lounge area. The majority of girls were blonde, whether born or dyed. Even bleached to rich platinum. One of the blondes in the back of the lounge had a boyfriend she was clinging to. So much that she could constrict him if he ever mistreated her, but from how much of a gentleman he seemed by the way he looked into her eyes before going in for a quick kiss, arguments would never occur between them. How this blonde stuck out to Dee? Her extravagant fashion sense. Name brand clothing from all around Europe. With how this blonde carried herself into the front of the lounge, Dee would assume that she took a trip or two there.

This woman and her boyfriend went up to the front of the room to introduce themselves to the new tenants, but based on some of their reactions, they were familiar with her. Some more than others. Dee reminded her of a blonde in Belleville who was at a house party once for one of the football players. The dirty blonde was slipping and falling in every room that day, including their garage. She remembered a brunette hanging around with her. The brunette was at a worse drunk state than she was. She wondered what ever happened to them.

Back to the tenants meeting, this particular blonde, who Dee now knew as Jaylene, invited the new tenants to a party she was hosting with her boyfriend that the new tenants, including Dee, could be interested in attending.

“I usually don’t do this kind of thing, but I’m busting open a huge deal for my agency and we’re having a banger at Manhattan Tower tonight. Everyone has to pay a cover charge but I’ll let you all in for free because honestly, I’d just love not to be surrounded by anorexic models all night.......”

By that time, Dee's cellular phone vibrated on her palm, nearly causing her to jump in fright. She wondered who would give her a message at this time, but since her friends and sorority sisters are all working in jobs or careers in the morning, it was no surprise that one of them would contact her. She proceeded to investigate, needing her ears to multitask.

“You've received a video message from: Erica”

Dee smiled to herself in delight. Her best friend from high school. The one that was cautious about her little “cave trip” in honor of Mordicai. After high school graduation, they split separate ways: Dee heading to the United States, and Erica moved to Toronto to pursue a career in Criminal Justice. Dee hadn't heard from her best friend until her senior year, thanks to social media. After giving Erica her number, they talked for three hours that day, reminiscing on old memories and sharing new ones.

Ironically, Erica had married a Muslim Physical Therapist at the college she went to, and she was expecting a baby boy soon. The same month of graduation to be exact. The husband wanted to name the boy Kareem, which Erica found to be intriguing. She thought it was named after a grandfather of his, but it was actually named after the American basketball legend, Kareem Abdul-Jabar.

Now to present time, Dee wondered what the video sent from Erica could be. She opened the small envelope icon. A video of baby Kareem in Erica's living room. The climax was Kareem already walking, adding his own manner of communication by waving to the camera with only his fingers. Not even a year old and he's already moving his legs. Dee's smile lit even more. Who knew something so enlightening could control her emotions, and have her day at a great start? It even calmed her tensions of potentially being late for work.

“.....would kill for a live act. I’d pay you. So, yeah. Thanks.”

That was the last she could hear from the blonde in front of her, but at least Dee got the location. She wasn't so sure about the time, since she had to work the whole afternoon to closing at night, but the day was on a weekend.

She could see a slim lower body heading her way. Someone wanting to speak to her? Who knew what this persona wanted to say? She didn't know the tenants too well, so she couldn't have them in her personal business just yet. She closed the video of Baby Kareem on her cellular phone before turning it around. Once the person was finally standing across from her, she lifted her head with a warm smile to whoever the lower body belonged to.

A young man piercing her with his dark eyes. His handsome face surpassed his eccentric sense of clothing. Comparing him to the blonde from earlier, they were complete opposites, further complimenting the varieties of Empire Heights, and after brushing his dark hair back with his fingers, he had a coolheaded charm that many women loved. He proceeded to speak to Dee, and she was curious over what he would begin the conversation with.

“Don’t I know you?”

A rather odd introduction. She quickly wanted to respond with a shaking head, but then it got even more strange when he said her name.


Her narrowly gazing eyes began to widen, and by the way she had responded, this man was right. How did this man know her name? Better yet, her nickname. Only friends and family know her by “Dee” rather than “Dominique”. Maybe she had seen this man in a distant memory. The more her eyes was drawn to him, the more his appearance seemed acquainted to her. His black strands of hair sprouting wildly from his scalp, and above his eyes. The light fawn shaded skin, with hints of stubble on his chin. Before she could ask him the obvious “how do you know my name?”, he quickly gave her the answer after placing his bags down to the crowd.

“I’m Kaleb, remember I invited you out after Mordy’s...erm..yea.”

His name was only said once, and Dee felt gravely affected by it. A soft catch of her breath. Her eyes widening more. She didn't know whether to feel dumbfounded, or ecstatic over a long-lost mutual friend reuniting with her after only hearing about him once, and seeing him from time to time in high school. These past few years have been a trip to the past for Dee. First her best friend, and now her beloved and dearly departed Love and what was left of his legacy. Was this fate wanting her not to forget about Mordicai? No, Kaleb staying in the same apartment building had to be a coincidence.

These many thoughts couldn't distract her for long. She had to respond to Kaleb.

“Kaleb! Hey! It's nice to see you again.”, Dee responded in her distinctively light, raspy tone, greeting him with a handshake. From what Dee could remember of Kaleb, every part of him remained the same. Even his stubby facial hair. Only exception was his height, which was a slight upgrade. Dee was, regardless, still shorter than him.

“Sorry, I just...I knew that I knew you, I just couldn’t figure out how.” He added a laugh into the sentence that he may judge as awkward and timid. Dee could imagine how he still felt that way. Even after meeting each other for the first time, their diaries were still locked tightly to their hearts. They were not as open to each other as they were with Mordicai, and since they lived in Empire Heights together, the cliffhanger had another opportunity to raise itself up to the ground.

“What are you doing in America?”, he finally asked after a moment of muteness to gather up the letters in the alphabet to form words, and finally a sentence. That was an excellent question to ask. Of all places, they both managed to migrate to the United States. What was the fascination over the United States?

“I go to college here in NYU.”, Dee easily responded. “I've been here for more than four years now, and I'm working on getting my graduate degree.

Dee's future in dance had to involve one of the greatest schools in the country. In a location where many aspiring dancers lived, wanting to compete to the lead roles on stage, or the television screens.

So how about yourself?, Dee questioned in turn, I didn't think America was such a common place for Canadians to live.”
Dee sneaked in a lighthearted joke to mellow their awkward encounter, and secretly Kaleb's diffident mannerisms. His current status after mourning Mordicai's death was still a mystery to her. even the other friends Mordicai left behind, or rather joined him in the case of the student who allegedly succumbed to a terminal disease. From Kaleb's warm skin complexion, Dee assumed that he moved on from the past like Dee had to.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Elliot Monroe Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Juliet James Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan Character Portrait: Patrick Murphy Character Portrait: Dominique Norwood
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Kaleb Dean Sivaj:
Fate always played funny games with Kaleb, although maybe it was karma - he lived life in disarray, so life had a fucked up way of unfolding. He could see a light go off behind Dee’s light eyes when he said his own name, bittersweet fondness mingled with grief. He figured the image of Mordy had popped in her mind, as it had in his own. When they shook hands, he almost flinched at her soft touch, his warm mitt clasping her cool docile paw. Gliding his fingers across the palm of her hand as he pulled away, he couldn’t pull his eyes from her as she feigned excitement in them reuniting all these years after a brief encounter.

He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, a text, most likely from Kaycee - not many other people texted him throughout the day. Fidgeting, Kaleb looked over Dee’s shoulder as she answered his question to where Amil and Patrick had been sitting. Still attentive to her words, Kaleb almost did a double take when from the corner of his vision it seemed as if a certain cap wearing individual had stooped down to be so brave as to kiss a familiar head of blue hair. He felt as if something had twisted from his throat to his chest, his tongue heavy. A few choice words threatened to slip out, and he felt his stare darken. From what he could see, Patrick didn’t offer any strong reaction, so Kaleb dismissed his former presumption, although it didn’t put him at ease. Amil hadn’t pushed Spitz back like Kaleb would of preferred, instead Kaleb could tell even from afar she was sizing up her prey.

First and foremost, Amil was a good friend of Kaleb. She was wild and sassy, alluring and seductive. Amil was like a product of some perfect woman cyborg a inventor rock star would create, with very few program flaws. The two had their share of intimate moments, although not as many were with their clothes off as other people liked to assume. Still, even with Kaycee always reminding him of his presence, Amil was an important lady in his life. Ironically she gave him a lot of advice about Kaycee, and she never would be the one to initiate anything between them. It wasn’t that Kaleb knew he would sleep with Amil again, but it just always seemed to come up again. The nights would come from out of nowhere, a perfect cocktail of drinks, location, laughter, stolen glances and magic. They would wake up confused, share a laugh and grab breakfast from the cafe and most likely be busted by Patrick, who would openly call them out. They knew they had no romance between them, maybe it could just be described as an animalistic attraction.

The fact that Spitz was even around her made his blood boil, but he didn’t seem to linger long, walking away carrying Alex on his arm. He didn’t know the girl very much, she almost reminded him of Jaylene sometimes, how she seemed dismissive of most people. As Jaylene popped into his mind, she popped into his vision, predictably hanging off of Monroe. Before he could let his blatant disdain betray his expression, Kaleb turned his attention back to Dee before recognizing her questioning eyes. His reaction was a bit delayed, not comprehending her question until after she asked it, nodding his head and saying “oh,” under his breath, as if reminding himself to answer her. Clearing his throat, Kaleb coughed into his fist before shoving his hands into his front pockets.

ImageShe had no way of knowing the weight of her question, the story of how Kaleb had ended up in New York. He had forgotten pieces along the road, he definitely wasn’t going to open with how he had to hitch hike from New Jersey to New York alone after leaving his once best friend and was homeless for months. Shrugging, he chuckled to himself as he reached to grip the back of his neck, as if he were almost nervous to answer. “I was actually born in New York, I moved to Belleville in middle school. So, I’m actually American.” He laughed again, dropping his hands to his side.

When a silence fell between them, he offered a weak question, “Are you going to that party you think?” Choosing to ignore that Jaylene was behind the banger, someone who Dominique might know by name, it would just make the entire conversation easier if it were like Jaylene was just a insignificant detail. From over Dominique’s shoulder, he could see Juliet and Amil fall into fits of giggles. He looked back to Dee’s searching eyes, down to her full painted lips. Smiling, he looked back to her eyes, awaiting her answer.


Amelia Sheffield

Juliet made no effort to move, only further making herself comfortable in Amil’s lap. Huffing with false annoyance, she rested her head once again, looking over to Patrick and Corey. Both of them usually spoke in low voices, their words inaudible to Amil’s ears. She frowned, assuming they must be talking about her. Biting her lip out of habit, she watched them with curiosity. Patrick and Corey had always gotten along well, so Amil had been told. No one really noticed when Amil and Corey started seeing one another, if that’s what someone wanted to call it. It mostly consisted of late night visits, infrequent lavish dinners and many unanswered questions, which was what clued Patrick in eventually, her curiosity being what betrayed her. But it was pointless to even ask Patrick about Corey, he made it clear he didn’t know anything either.

There had been something in the way he carried himself, possessing culture and tact unlike most people Amil crossed paths with. To say that he made her nervous sometimes wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration, something in his eyes that showed much more than he meant to let on. There was some dangerous edge to him that was intoxicating to Amil, although the mystery he seemed to hold so close drove her crazy. She and Corey hadn’t ended on bad terms, just sort of drifted away and loss the initiative to see one another. If he had been affected by her at all, he never let on, and vice versa. It had been an adventure while it lasted, and Amil would never out rule him from her pool of options.

Her mind had drifted, realizing she had been watching Patrick and (mostly) Corey as long as they had been talking when Corey looked over to her and Juliet, locking eyes with Amil. At first Amil felt startled, as if she had been caught sneaking through her mother’s purse. Then her expression softened, offering a weak smile and a little wave, head rested against the arm of the chair. Patrick had said something to break Corey’s eyes away from Amil’s, but she didn’t bother to look away. Her fingers played with Juliet’s locks. “My legs are falling asleep.” She whispered, almost affectionately, wiggling her legs from under Juliet.

Laughing more to herself, Amil used her arms to hoist herself from beneath Juliet, sitting on the back of the couch to have Juliet lay as she had fallen into the cushion of the love seat. Her eyes glided across the cafe, most of the tenants had gone to hide away, but the social ones remained, and one not so social tenant who seemed to be falling asleep in his seat. Giving Juliet a look that said be right back, Amil swung her legs over the arms of the couch, sliding down to stand on her own two feet, Juliet undisturbed. Amil looked over to Noellen for Juliet to understand.

Noellen had been a project of Amil for quite some time, the guy was eerily quiet, and had the a similar mixture of danger and mystery that allured her to Corey, but there was something about Noellen that made Amil aware that he was thrown a little off-kilter. He never seemed to show any kind of genuine emotion or interests in anything anyone had to say, and was rarely seen talking to anyone, let alone laughing. Running her hands down her sweater as if to smooth it out, she primped her hair once before turning before Noellen. “Wow, did Furman have to bribe you with a month of free rent to get you to make it to the meeting?” She joked, taking a seat across from him and crossing her legs delicately.

Noellen had the perfect chisled features of an American Hollister God, a pretty boy cut and piercing eyes. Grade A meat, but such a fucking weirdo. His apathetic expression put her ill at ease as she wrapped her arms around herself, her smile growing weaker. “Yea, I just wanted to say you should go tonight, I’m forcing Patrick, and he’ll probably force Corey and Kaleb, it’ll be a whole table of disturbed insociable minds.” She joked nervously, her humor bordering inappropriate, her awkward tendencies forcing her to make a fool of herself. Looking across the room, she looked to Juliet pleadingly, as if asking her to save Amil from saying something that might actually offend someone. Even sober Amil could make herself look like an asshole. It was as if she was missing a layer of a filter that other people seemed to have that kept those random pieces of grit from slipping out. Smiling, Amil shook her head, looking down to the floor and pulling at the hair at her temples. “Sorry, my mouth likes to run ahead of my mind.” She said, wincing slightly and hoping her joke was not in bad taste.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amil Sheffield Character Portrait: Corey A. Delgado Character Portrait: Kaleb Dean Sivaj Character Portrait: Alexandra Kaersson Character Portrait: Jaylene Sullivan Character Portrait: Patrick Murphy Character Portrait: Scully 'Spitz' Rollins Character Portrait: Dominique Norwood Character Portrait: Adam Banksys Character Portrait: Lee Harris
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#, as written by Jaybt9
Dominique could feel some tension reaching Kaleb's nervous system and frequent eye contact to her left. In her mind, she wondered what was disturbing him. Was this disturbance outside of the glass window? Was a pedestrian passing by that he was familiar with, or was there someone in the room that Kaleb felt uncomfortable with? Did he hear this person's voice resonating to his ears.

Of course these questions were all based on Dee's own assumption, but once Kaleb began his response with a mumbling “oh,” with his eyes to his worn off shoes, this proved that Dee's assumption was correct. Something, or someone, was bothering his aura.
Dee didn't want to display her curiosity in an obvious manner by following his focus. She just met the man after many life changes. Their relationships and mindsets of life have developed since the adolescent years. Secrets revealed to the public or added and locked into their mental journals. She didn't want to drive straight on to the personal questions full speed like most women do.
After some hesitation, continuing his uneasy habits, he finally came up with the answer to Dee's question involving migrating to the Bald Eagle country. Opening his mouth, Dee's speculative thoughts took a break.

“I was actually born in New York, I moved to Belleville in middle school. So, I’m actually American.”

“Really?” Dee thought internally, but only nodding to surprise externally. This man was American? She couldn't tell, but who really can when Canada and United States are two big melting pots? The ingredients being descendants from other continents. They can, however, tell by accents.

Dee still spoke her native dialect, which was a subject for New Yorkers to ask about. She wasn't short or thick with her vowels, or creaky with her consonants, so it wasn't rare for someone to ask where she was from. She couldn't answer that to strangers, but her dialect was a dead giveaway that she wasn't from New York.

Kaleb, while he lived in When she first met Kaleb, he had a clear Canadian accent. One that could exaggerate the “o” in “sorry”, but talking to him now, it was different. It was like his Canadian heritage was snatched away from him once he reached the border. Even with his body language, he was well adjusted to the New York Urban scene. Much quicker than the 4-year New York citizen in front of him. This no longer drew questions as to whether he was lying or not.
Kaleb drew more of his adapting skills, asking Dee about another subject.

“Are you going to that party you think?”

This was when Dee's conscience kicked in. The party that the well-dressed blonde was hosting this weekend? A party that may be filled with young adults that knew each other, but didn't know Dee? Dee felt hesitance over attending a party full of strangers. Watching as boys and girls perform various acts that may be comedic or crude.

On the other hand, this is the beginning of where social connections happen. Dee could get a chance to communicate with more people. Even those who may be her tenants. Even those who were mutually friends with someone Dee knew from work or college. The chances of meeting new friends were wide and open with an invitation.
When she came up with her answer to Kaleb, she wanted to display confidence in her body language, but her conscience still didn't want to leave her.

“I'm not sure with my work schedule, but I can change things around.”

Since Kaleb was the one to address if she was going to Jaylene's fiesta, this implied that he would be doing the same, but Dee proceeded to ask him anyways.

“So how about you?”

Hopefully, he could attend. So far, Kaleb was the only tenant she was closer to, and this was their second time communicating together. Nonetheless, she felt more at ease with him around, since he may know the neighbors living in Empires Heights.