Just Friends {IC}

[supertoastgirl]

6:27 PM. December Twenty-First. The Burkland Meyer Apartments. 
 

The sky was a deep grey, with hints of purple teasing the eye. Clouds created images of gods and goddesses playing with the fate of the sad people below. Snow was falling, white specks adding to the shear blanket over the courtyard of Brielle's new found home. Winter was a bleak time for her, with dark colors and low toned lights. Every year was different and she was never quite sure what to do for the holidays. It was five days until Christmas. Seven days until Liam came back from his job flying to Brazil. It would be yet another dull Christmas. With no Liam she would wrap the presents herself and spend a measurable amount of time calling her brother Blake and visiting her sister who lived just down the stairs. At least Liam would have a good time in the sun, spending his Christmas with a load of pilot friends, but she could only hope that he would miss her on his little adventure.

That's what she thought of their time away as. Little adventures. They both had hard schedules, and time together was precious. She was used to, and even content with her artificial  loneliness. Especially during this holiday season when others were going to visit their loved ones. Brielle was usually the one gone on Christmas day, flying to Hawaii or New York. Helping people find their seats and serving the first class snobs small samples of cheap wine. She never knew who was going to be gone and when. The last time they had spent a Christmas together on the twenty-fifth was three years ago. Yet, with all the trouble, they make it through. 

She was satisfied with this distant, closeness she had with Liam. In someways it was better than having a boyfriend that was constantly there. Brielle needed her independence. Her moments to prove to everyone that she could do it all on her. Moving in with Liam was contradictory. But sometimes there are no others ways to progress in a relationship if the boy isn't willing to buy the ring. She was okay with that. Not happy, but alright. Brielle would much rather be living with him without a ring than living without the ring or the man. For now, she was fine with the arrangement, even though she was pushing at the seams when she redid the living room and their bedroom. He got over it fairly quickly. She had even managed to decorate for the holidays. No tree, but she put up a strip of lights and some old tensile from her childhood, along with two sockings. Liam and Brielle stitched at the top.

Brielle had made plans though; to spend at least part of Christmas day with her little sister Bonnie. It seemed fine enough, as the day was supposed to be devoted to spending time with family. That brought upon the thought of her mother. Was she to visit her mom? Brielle thought it would be too much for her, and that last thing she wanted to do was stress out her sick mother. She just couldn't face it all. Their relationship had never been pleasant and now she was dying. Brielle could only think to blame herself for the trouble to caused and continues to inflict on her mother.

Her boots crunched in the swollen snow that covered the pathway to the double doors of her apartment. Some lights were lit in the windows above her, people were slowly coming home from the office jobs and sitting down to have a cheery dinner. A bag of take-out was in her leather-gloved hands as her foot slipped on the top stair. Damned ice. She didn't have much ambition at this point, and she had even given up on cooking for herself. The fireplace in the lobby of the apartment was lit, crackling welcomes to all who entered. It was cozy and a wave of warmth came over Brielle as she walked toward the elevator. 

Mr. Burkland himself was sitting in his usual seat by the fire when he sent a friendly wave her way. He was a dear old man who was continuing his deceased wife's dream: being a successful landlord. Brielle would sometimes visit with the wise old fool, she admired his gumption. Brielle smiled back and muttered a rough hello, only being the third time she'd spoken today. The elevator came to her call fairly quickly and opened it's big mouth. Brielle thought about Mr. Burkland's love for his wife as she stepped inside and pressed the button to the third floor. 

[TheOneAndOnly]

”No, for the last time mom, I am not coming home for Christmas, okay? Okay. I’m sorry… Love you too. Bye.”

After hanging up, Bandit set her cell phone onto the kitchen counter. She let out a sigh full of mixed emotions for no one to hear. It was full of frustration, guilt, sadness, and irritation…because that was the fourth time that her mother had called her in the course of the past two days. She loved her mom, she really did, and in all honesty she missed her and would love to go visit her for a day or so…the rest of the family members that would more than likely also be visiting…not so much. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, not at all! It was just that she felt being around them to be…awkward and uncomfortable. Because ever since her dad so kindly decided to tell them about her ‘alternative lifestyle’ as she remembered he put it, they seemed to look at her, and almost talk to her differently. And she didn’t like it. But she’d much rather stay at her home than go and spend a couple uncomfortable days somewhere else.

Bandit planned on spending Christmas with Seth instead. Though she hadn’t talked to him about it yet. And she wasn’t sure if he would be going to visit the rest of her family or not. But she was fine with spending the holiday alone if she had to. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

Being alone would kind of suck. It was times like this that she wished she had a girlfriend even more… Then she wouldn’t have to consider being alone…ever, really. But Bandit didn't have a girlfriend. Not yet at least. She was confident that someday she would, but unfortunately, someday hadn't happened yet.

Bandit picked up her phone and stared at it for a few seconds before turning and leaning forward into the counter and watching out the window directly in front of her. It was snowing, quite obviously, and enticed the blue haired girl to come out and play. Or go for a walk in it at least. She’d always really enjoyed the snow. It was just so…so beautiful. And fun to be out in until it got unbearably cold and forced her indoors and into a new, dry pair of clothes. But she didn’t mind. It was definitely worth it. And it was also a fun thing to paint. Bandit awaited snowfall every year partially to be her muse and let her paint a couple new winter landscape scenes, which were usually the paintings that people bought up the fastest. Her favorites she kept for herself of course, but there was always a satisfaction in it for her when someone liked her art enough to pay a couple hundred dollars for it. A museum buying one from her would be the biggest reward yet.

She pulled herself out of her little trance that she’d fallen into and pushed away from the counter. The blue haired girl turned around and started through the living room, down the short hallway, and finally into the bedroom she called hers. Stepping over paint brushes, and paint tubes, and markers, and colored pencils all the way, naturally. Bandit sighed at she looked at the mess that had extended into the room, and stepped lightly over to the bed where she pushed aside a few pencils and plopped down. Once again, Bandit stared down at her phone, debating if she should call Seth or not. Eventually, she decided against it. Instead, she found her shoes (which took a little while) and put them on, quickly pulling on a jacket before slipping her phone inside it's pocket. After stopping by a mirror on her way out of the house to check her appearance and accepting it, Bandit started out of her house to make the journey up to her cousin's apartment. She'd always really preferred talking in person to talking on a phone.

[Imagine That!]

Ellie lay drowsily over the couch, her eyes barely open as she stared at the TV, which was at this precise moment, playing the John Lewis Christmas advert. Her arm lay underneath her head as she lay there, supporting it, her other hand stuck in the pocket of her scrubs, clutching her precious beeper. She was finally on Christmas leave, but because she worked in such a spontaneous job, there was always the chance that she could get called in. Hopefully not, because that would mean something terrible had happened, but there was still that ominous chance. Her thirty-six hour shift had finished at five, and she had gotten in about an hour later, resulting in the picture that now presented itself in her living room.

Slowly, she dragged her lifeless body off of the sofa and shuffled her way slowly into the kitchen. She tugged at the messy bun in her hair, yanking out the black hair-band that held it together before throwing it on the side, and shaking her head, letting loose the curly brunette locks that was the mop on top of her head. She flicked on the kettle and popped a teabag into a red and brown mug that had been given to her by her mother last Christmas, along with two sugars. The wait for the caffeine-filled drink seemed to take forever, and in the mean time, she pulled out a ready-made lasagne from the freezer. After grabbing a knife and stabbing holes relentlessly in the plastic packaging, she stuck it in the microwave, leaving it to cook itself. Click. The kettle had boiled. Fantastic. Ellie made herself the cup of tea that she so greatly desired, and took a large sip, forgetting the heat of the freshly-boiled drink momentarily.

"Shit." She mumbled under her breath, putting the cup hastily on the side before rushing over to the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. The cool tap water soothed her now burning tongue, and she turned around to glare at the cup that was sitting on the side. "Cheers for that. All I wanted was something nice to wake me up, but no, you had to go and do something bad. I hate you." Great. Talking to inanimate objects now? Maybe my shifts are too long? Or I'm just going crazy. Eh, who knows.

She walked away from the kitchen, moving into the bedroom and changing into something more casual, something that wasn't covered in the vomit and blood of patients that she had looked after throughout the day and night. After changing, she stopped for a moment to stare out of the window, at the pretty white flakes that were pouring out of the sky. Snow had always been fascinating to her, maybe it was just how beautiful it made everything looked, but she loved it. A smile dragged itself up from nowhere and placed itself upon her face as she watched the balls of white, for a moment, forgetting about everything that had just happened; forgetting about the hard day's work, forgetting about the burning sensation on her tongue, forgetting about the fact that she would be alone again this Christmas, and forgetting about her dinner. "Shit!" She cried out as the smell of burning pasta hit her nose, and she rushed back into the kitchen to see black smoke billowing out from her microwave.

That then set the fire-alarm off.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Ellie yelled as she pulled the blackened lasagne out of the appliance, burning her hands in the process and put in into the sink, letting the cold water run onto it. She then dashed to her front door, coughing as she did so, throwing it open to let the smoke fly out. She leaned against the wall outside her apartment as she smoke alarm stopped its insistent beeping, and sank down to the floor, looking into her smoke-filled apartment. It was then that a little head popped around the door and gave a little squeak, moving Eleanor's attention away from the carnage inside her home and to her pet ferret.

"What do you want? Come to gloat, have you Benji? I'm not in the mood."

[wednesdaysun]

And he came home late last night with paperwork and half a bottle of AriZoNa. The next morning, all he remembered was an excessive amount of numbers in a strange broth of finance and chickenshit. His reading glasses were on the skull he kept atop his television set. An attractive café regular's number was set atop a dinosaur action figure's arms on a shelf above his desk. More than half his blanket had shrugged off onto the ground, and now that he was nearly conscious, the sudden chill that ran from his feet all the way to half of his body was more than enough literal rude awakening. In a slightly masochistic attempt to try and wake himself up further from the oh-so-wonderful realm of dreams, he shuffled off to the bathroom to take a shower, only to be greeted by, alas, water as cold as the North Atlantic. At a time like this when snowfall didn't necessarily stop, it's reason enough to believe that the first thing that would come out of Seth's mouth was a great big "Fuck." Merry fucking Christmas, Seth, would probably be more like it. He just enjoyed it when sarcasm dripped from his tongue like fresh honey from a glass jar being poured onto some other viscid substance.

Seth Jones wasn't about to let some crummy old weather pattern get to him this morning. No, sir. He'd face this morning with dignity, perseverance and breakfast cereal in his stomach. Or perhaps some other form of sustenance that'd sate his hunger. Instead, he opted for the ever-familiar cuppa joe, and as he sat on that kitchen counter in yesterday's jeans half-unbuttoned and his university hoodie and a pensive frown on his face. He reached for the remote control and heard the frequency that just told you that that the television was on, and on came the morning news. Good morning, it's blah-blah-blah for the blah-blah-blah, and I'm here today with blah-blah-blah to discuss whatchamacallit on blah-di-blah-di-blah. Some of the most uninteresting, unimportant things came on in the morning, and there he sat watching idly just to let the time pass by.

He rung his mother back home not more than a week ago. The concerned but ever so carefree mother was always there to pick up the phone, although the first few things she said that she used as an excuse for the noises in the background were a little odd, like an experiment with jackhammers or a fellow artsy neighbor Rosie smothering her walls with paint with her own bare hands. "How've you been, mom? How's everyone there, and aunt and uncle?" "We're all fine, dear." "Oh, come on, mom, it'll be fun to come along here. Besides, the only other family member I have here is Bandit. I miss you and the rest as well." "Wish I could leave but I don't want to stop guarding the house."

A mother that'd say, "Oh, my house is wonderful," but would never stop to think about herself. He wasn't quite sure whether she was truly concerned or truly troubled.

Intent on quelling this ridiculous loneliness accumulating inside him, he decided to visit Bandit's flat, hoping he'd find solace in her company 'til the annoying nagging feeling in his heart finally died and pushed out the daisies. The last time he went out, he'd nearly ended up breaking her nose, but now he was determined to wait for his cousin, who he was absolutely sure was lonely like him today, sitting alone insolently sipping on some beverage or munching onto some morsel to take that much-needed breakfast. It'd be his turn to wait for his baby cousin now, and after hearing her footsteps echo in the corridor, he was at the door before she could even start to knock it.