Alexander idly strummed at his guitar. The acoustic instrument was in perfect condition. The light wooden body had an unblemished finish over it that reflected the sun's rays. His long fingers ran up and down the neck of the guitar pressing down on the strings in just the right place. The guitar let out a melodious tune that was soothing, but warm. Alex's light blue eyes were half lidded and he seemingly started at nothing. His gaze seemed to be resting on what he was doing, however, he wasn't really paying attention to the physical world. Every once in awhile he'd hum a bit along with the chords he was playing. The slumping boy would move his mouth to form words as it came to him. His foot was consistently tapping along with the beat of whatever he was playing. The tune started to repeat itself, changing in some places, and returning to the previous idea in others. There was no pause in his playing. The volume never rose to a level above the chirping birds that seemed to want to sing along with the strange tune.

It wasn't until heavy footsteps stopped right in front of Alex, did he stop playing. He looked up a bit startled, like a student awoken after falling asleep in the middle of class. Standing over him was a seemingly intimidating man. However, Alexander simply smiled and greeted him like an old friend. “Hey, Marc. How are you?”

“I'm doing fine. You should be more worried about your sister. She's the one working with sharp objects.” The security guard's brown eyes looked over from where he came from.

“I'm more worried about the people who cross her while she is still in reaching distance of those sharp objects.” Alex grinned, slipping the guitar pick into the pocket of his jeans. It was still warm enough to not need a jacket, but fall wasn't too far off. At least it wasn't blistering hot. Marc laughed, it was deep and throaty. His charming smile seemed to brighten up the early morning.

“I suppose you're right,” He said, checking his watch. “Not a lot of people are actually up this early since it's Saturday. Hopefully, that means no one is going to die on Eden Gardens premises today. Your sister does a great job with the flora, but she sure does need some work when it come to tending to people.”

“Well, I'm doing the best I can,” Alex shrugged. He was outside because his sister was taking care of the gardens. He decided to give her something to listen to while working. That and he wanted to practice anyways. He also didn't want to bother some of the other tenants with his playing.

“I heard you playing just before.” Marc nodded to the guitar as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m surprised you haven't gone off and become a musician yet. You work so hard at it. Why are you bothering with a college degree that will just get you waist high into debt?”

“I've already explained this to you.” Alex sighed, looking down at his guitar. “There are a lot of reasons. Plus, you should be encouraging me to stay here so you can keep your job.”

“Hey, I'm just looking after you kid.” Marc ruffled Alex's silvery white hair, before walking off in another direction. “See you later,” He called back before rounding a corner.

“See ya,” Alex waved. He then hoisted his guitar back up, inspecting it for a little bit. “I'm not [I]that[/] young. You don't have to call me a kid.” He muttered to himself, plucking at the strings and adjusting the pegs to tune them. After fiddling around with it a bit, the musician began strumming again. This time, though, he consistently hummed with the tune. His vocal chords were warmed up a bit from talking with Marc. This time the sound was a bit louder and bolder. As if to rouse the other residents gently from their sleep.

Bzzt, bzzt. Bzzt, bzzt. The phone vibrated gently on Cassandra's face, slowly pulling her from her sleep. The girl groaned, reaching up and tapping the answer button on the display. She set the phone to speaker, so she wouldn't have to hold it against her ear.

Her face still half hidden by her pillow, Cassandra let out a muffled, "Mhmmm?"

"Cassandra, did I wake you up?" Ughhhh. Mom.

"Mmm."

"I'm coming over in an hour, so get out of bed."

"Mmmmmmm."

"Okay, well, I'll see you soon. Bye."

Cassandra groaned once more, ending the call and climbing out of bed.

---

---

The doorbell rang just as Cassandra inserted the final button of her shirt. She held a little pride in her accomplishments; within the hour she was given, Cass had eaten a bowl of cereal, put her makeup on, and gotten dressed. That was a lot, as she was a woman that usually took an hour just to get the cereal out of the way. But her mother was always a special occasion. One that occurred at least twice a week, but special nonetheless. Most of the time, the visits were simply a chance for the two to catch up, but occasionally her mother would have something more interesting to say. Cassandra rushed to the door, pulling it open and immediately attacking her mother with a hug.

"Oh, so you're awake now? Even though it's already late," her mother teased, stepping into the apartment. Cassandra closed the door behind her, then jogged to the couch and hopped onto it, landing on her back.

"It's not that late, mom, don't be rude," Cassandra called, as her mother slowly made her way into the main room. She pulled herself up into a semi-normal seating position, keeping her legs folded in front of her on the couch to give her mother space to sit down.

"I should be glad you're up at all, I guess. I'm guessing you were off last night?" Her mother asked, taking the seat offered her. She took a sip of her coffee; Cassandra quietly reminded herself of the time her hug had caused coffee to spill all over her back. She needed to pay more attention to that. At least Mom was prepared this time, since it didn't feel like there was any coffee on her back, nor did it look like it had ended up in her doorway at all.

"Cassandra. I asked you a question."

Cassandra's eyes shot up, as she realized she had once again zoned out while her mother was speaking. "Shit, sorry, yeah. Uh... Work. Right. No. Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I was off last night, but I'll be in tonight," Cassandra answered, trying to collect the thoughts she had spilled over her mental floor. Coffee was spilled on floors. But not today.

"Good. Look, I was talking to James and-"

That caught Cassandra's attention; James was her father's name. "Nope! Nope, I do not want to hear about that asshole, Mom. Whatever you two said, I don't wanna hear about him, so please just skip that and move along," Cassandra looked away, annoyed that her mother had brought him up at all. There was a lot of bad blood between her and her father; her mother understood, for the most part, but Cassandra was sure that Mom didn't quite grasp just how much hatred she held for her father.

"Alright, I'm sorry I said anything." Her mother paused. Sure, she said she was sorry, but Cassandra knew that pause. She was gonna go right on talking about him. Cassandra braced herself. "He wants to come visit."

What? "No."

"Just for a day."

"No!"

"Cassandra-"

"Cassandra nothing! I'm not talking to him and I'm sure as fuck not going to see him!" Cassandra jumped up from the couch, walking over to her desk. She began to fidget with the mess on the desk, simply to keep her mind occupied and away from the idea of her father visiting. "Was there anything else you came here to tell me?"

Her mother sat quietly on the couch. So that was a yes. Her mother was patient, but she was also no-bullshit. If she was done, she'd be halfway out the door already. That she was still here meant she had something to say, she was just waiting for the tension in the room to die down before she began again.

It was a couple minutes until that happened, but Cassandra kept herself busy by messing around with her low-end camera equipment (she really should save up to upgrade that, someday) and catching up with comments on her blog. Most of the comments were positive; Cassandra worked impossibly hard to keep the environment light-hearted on her blog, though you could never really escape the occasional troll. Especially when your blog was averaging a few dozen thousand views a day. One day she'd get onto vlogging like she said she wou-

"Cassandra! Where are you right now?" Her mother half shouted, pulling Cassandra back into reality.

"Uh... nowhere. Sorry, I'm hella tired today. What did you say?"

"You're 'hella tired' every day. Stop pulling that shit with me, I know you. I asked when you're getting a boyfriend."

Goddammit, not this crap again. It seemed like every other visit, her mother was bringing up her dating life. "When I meet a guy that isn't an asshole, doesn't think I'm a hopeless fucking airhead, or isn't trying to get into my pants just because I have a social media presence bigger than his penis," Cassandra responded, a bitter grin on her face. Her blog caught the attention of all sorts of people, but Cassandra realized she had three major demographics: high school girls that wanted to be like her when they grew up, people her age that found her stories of life as a young adult relatable, and guys that spent way too much time looking at her selfies. And on the worst of days, a member of that last group found their way into the real world and would ask her out.

"I think all you did was describe different types of assholes. I passed by a cute boy by the garden playing guitar on my way in. White hair, blue eyes. You know him?"

Cassandra snorted. Of course her mother was intrigued by Alexander Fucking Clarke. She'd have to keep her mother away from him, or soon her mother would be Emilia Reynolds Clarke and Cassandra would have to call a college kid her dad. "Yeah, that's Alex. No, I'm not interested, he's hella boring. Business type or something." She wasn't really sure about that one, but she had to get her mother off her chest somehow. Cassandra swapped the lens on her camera from a long one to a wider one, peering through the viewfinder at her mother. "Besides, we talked about this. I'm not just into guys, I'm into girls, too. They're cuter and less dickish."

"Right, right. Anyways, I'd best get going. I don't know what you do on Saturdays, but I have some friends I'm meeting for the day, so I probably won't be answering any calls. Text me if you need me," Cassandra's mother rose from the couch, heading for the door. She knew how to see herself out; she'd visited so many times that virtually all of the building's residents knew who the older blonde woman dressed like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada was. Cassandra heard the door close, leaving her alone in the apartment. She began to wash the few dishes she had, singing OK Go's "Here It Goes Again" loudly but mostly on pitch, surely audible to her immediate neighbors and, likely, beyond.

---

Doris ended her shift early last night. After the usual on air shenanigans that she regularly deals with, naive kids asking for relationship advice, conjuring up sarcastic comebacks on troll callers and die hard political enthusiasts plus a nightly encounter with death threats. Always the death threats. She had talked to her boss about this, and of course to comply his employee's safety concerns, he gave her a coupon for a three week self defense class taped on a box of a brand new rechargeable stun gun as if to make sure if the self defense classes wasnt enough. Nonetheless she rarely worries on such things, aside from some pissed off republicans she's confident that most of her on air horswhipping is unlikely to make anyone be capable of murder. At least, none so far.

At 11 : 30 that night she left the air with her traditional "This is DJ Boomkitty, signing off." tagline and a Roberta Flack classic to groovy up the airwaves. The night was in it's usual gloomy charm, as she walked out of the lonely alleyway to her car parked a good fifteen mins away from her office. They reaally need to fix the parking in this area. The night poured a gentle drizzle on her skin, and this time around she had brought an umbrella with her. As much as naked driving was a refreshing experience, getting DUIed by a greasy cop while on her birthday suit isnt exactly listed on her bucket list of sexual fantasies. Dropping by at the Vibe for a quick drink or two like she regularly does, seeing the same people like the other night she was there. Except that one hottie skulking by the bar. Nice hair, scruffy looking, slacks n' suspenders goodness. She remembered chatting him up, got a little comfortable in between bourbon shots and next thing they're going at it in the lavatory. And like a customary routine with all the men in her romantic life, quoting that one Enrique Iglesias song, they all just "Come and Go.". It happens so frequent to the point it doesnt upset her anymore. Yet Doris fears of this feeling, the incapability of being loved by anyone. A statement that would sometimes go on and on in her head whenever she gets a little too much to drink ,specially during the monthly "crimson wave".

---

Despite deep in hang over hell this morning, Doris woke up at 6 and went on with her reading. Prelims was right around the corner and she isnt planning on wasting away a semester by failing a major. A good tomato juice usually stops the torturing throbbing in her brain, which it did. That's when she only noticed she's almost out of milk, but was too lazy occupied to get out and get some herself. Then she remembered, she have a Lewis. Grabbing her phone, she sent a quick text.



When her brain started numbing skimming through a wall of text on civil law and legal references, she paused, folded her glasses and gave a good stretch.

"Get a full load of subjects in a three month term. What a good idea!" she muttered irritatingly, while massaging her temples to relieve the escalating throbbing.

She took a quick break and gazed out the window, a mug of tea in her hands, she caught a sight of Alex looking all adorable and charming, unknowingly making her smile as she took little sips of her tea, just watching the scenery to relax her tensing braincells. A good couple of minutes later she went back to her desk, flipping through the pages of her 3 inch of civil law only to ruin her pace and overwhelming Alex's guitar tunes by a wailing banshee. Or was it just someone singing.

"Cassandra," At this point anyone who's anyone could tell that it's Cassandra with how much that woman talks, at times it's not really a problem for Doris but goddamn it she needs to get a grasp of this three chapter reading and this isnt helping her at all. Doris took out her phone, skimmed through the contacts for Cass,



Well, as if she could get anything in her head after 4 hours of reading at this point now that her brain's a bit scrambled. A good excercise usually livens her up, so now she changed costumes from an oversized Michelin man shirt to a work out attire.

""Everybody in position, and one! Two! Three! Looking good!" Doris went full on Pump-it-up on this cheesy fitness video she scoured at the dankest parts of the video store. Her hair head banned and tied into a bun, wearing a skin tight two piece work out outfit, her impressive energy and vigor could start a forest fire. "Ok now bend over, yeah that's it! Now lets do some squatting. Aaaaaand One, two, alright!" She's now shamelessly thrusting her butt, complying at the overtly muscular man in a crop top shirt and a pair of leggings on the T.V screen. The volume tuned up that it's now equally blaring to the sound of Alex's guitar and Cassandra's singing, way to start everyone's morning with some 80's synthpop dance music whilst a man encouraging to "go lower" in the background.

---

Light filled Max’s room as the morning sun peaked through his windows waking the sleeping gamer. Forcing his eyes open Max found he was not in his bed, but rather slumped over in his desk chair. This was not the first time he’d done this, and though he tried to avoid it, he knew it wouldn’t be the last. Pushing off the armrests he could hear several pops from his back as he sat up straight and reached for his computer’s mouse. With a quick shake the black screen illuminated with color showing the desktop.

”Good boy, Max.” He said softly with a smile. Nothing starts the day off worse than finding out you fell asleep during a match of some sort. Luckily past Max had the forethought to log out of whatever he was playing last night and now all present Max had to worry about possible back pains.

After a quick shower and small breakfast, Max felt wide awake and ready for the day. Not wanting to go straight back to video games, Max decided he’d go for a stroll around the building. He headed out the door and was making his way to the exit when he had to pause in front of one of the other apartments. Was someone singing? He leaned closer to the door and sure enough, Cassandra was doing her rendition of “Here it goes again”. Looking around to see if the coast was clear, Max got right up to the door and started clapping. After a few seconds of his applause, he darted away before the performer could get to her door and see her audience.

Max couldn’t help but giggle to himself at his small prank; it was dumb but it really put him in a good mood. As he walked out of the building, he once again heard music being played only this time from a guitar. There was only one person he knew who played guitar around here, Alex. Strolling over he found his friend playing along with birds chirping nearby.

”First there’s random singing in the halls and now I find prince charming literally playing for the birds. Did we become a Disney movie? If we did and no one told me I’m gonna be pissed! You know I’ve always wanted to be a princess.”

Jack awoke with a convulsion, immediately smacking his head on the lamp above his head. "Son of a..." he muttered, rubbing the sore spot and blinking his bleary eyes awake. It seemed he'd fallen asleep at his desk again, as evidenced by the fact that he was wearing his clothes from the day before, the fact that the lights were still on, and the fact that he was currently sitting at his desk. This habit was murder on his electric bill.

For the first time, he focused on the horrid cacophony that had roused him from his sleep. Someone was singing, and playing guitar - probably Alex. Someone else was singing what was, from the sound of it, "Here It Goes Again" - judging by the fact that she was attempting to sing both parts of the chorus by herself, that was most likely Cassie. Oh, and there was also the world-endingly loud synth-pop nightmare blasting through the wall, accompanied by various shouts and grunts and words of encouragement. Doris. In a half-asleep daze, Jack fumbled his earplugs off his desk and stuffed them in his ears, overcome with blessed silence.

Time to get ready for the day. It seemed he was already wearing clothes, so. Ready to go. That was easy. Jack kicked his wheely chair away from his desk, enjoying the sensation of spinning through the room, and stood up, brushing some crumbs of whatever he'd been eating last night before he fell asleep of his pants - chips? Some kind of chips.

Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped to his To-Do list - it was his day off work at Home Depot, which meant it was finally time to get to all the big projects that had been accumulating over the week. First up, some of the screws in the lobby that kept all the weird, art-deco paintings on were starting to pop - they'd have to be removed and replaced entirely.

It took Jack just a moment to locate his drill before the sleepy young man was off, plodding down the stairs and yawning loudly as he hefted the powertool casually in his hand. Good morning, Eden Gardens.

---

Rucks walked back into Eden Gardens already regretting his decision to get up so early. On the one hand, he'd been able to get all of his shopping out of the way for the weekend leaving him a full day to do whatever the hell he wanted and he'd been able to get round to his favourite bakery just as it opened to grab himself some super fresh pastries. On the other hand he was groggy as anything and he was carrying a small bag of dead mice to feed to Flumpykins. A bag he'd dropped once on the commute back and gotten a few strange looks for his troubles.

As he approached the doors leading into the main reception area of the apartments he saw Alex playing his guitar, he was kind of like the apartments very own cockerel. Or, whatever wakes up the real cockerel which at this point in time seemed to be the rather loud noise of Doris' cheesy workout tapes. Rucks shook his head as he walked inside, that was something he'd have to put up with for what? The next half an hour maybe if she'd just started? Hopefully less.

Thinking about it, the mail for the day had probably arrived at this point, so Rucks opted to check it. Walking over to the small coloured box that he called his own, he fished out the key to open it. The contents were lacklustre, just as they were everyday. The only real change was a letter with striking text written onto the envelope "Brother Rucks! Exciting opportunity inside". A faint smile made it's way onto Rucks' face as he tossed the letter into the dustbin he'd thought that junk mail had been all but forgotten in the days of the internet. But it appeared not; he locked the postbox, turned around and started making his way back to his apartment, today was going to be a good day. He could feel it.

---

---

It seemed like Vanessa had woken up at the perfect time to avoid the cacophony cluster of noises. The brunette supposed one could consider it some strange form of music; after all, there were instruments playing and a beat accompanied with singing. However, for her personally, all she could hear was the soothing sounds of the water washing over her as she showered. Although she was off from the library today, she had a shift yesterday afternoon which ended her four-day long work schedule. When she got home in the evening, she got to work on dinner before inviting Kim over. The two friends ate and spent some time together until the deep night had ascended upon them.

After the taller boy left -with some leftovers insisted by his fellow assistant- Vanessa immediately set off to clean up the kitchen and get ready for bed. She was feeling quite taxed from working so many days back to back. However, she had originally planned to tidy her apartment a little and make some progress on a book she was recommended by a student. As much as she didn't want to -and with a glance at the clock informing her how late it was being the defining factor- she told herself that she'd have to wait until tomorrow to get to her plans.

Shutting off the water, the girl could hear the pulsing of music lightly vibrate through her walls and muffled voices. As she stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself, Vanessa figured it was quite a busy morning if this many people were up. Well, it was Saturday.

After a half hour of getting ready for the day, the brunette set on cleaning her apartment. However, as she closely looked though the cupboard underneath her sink and moved various bottles, she discovered that she was out of the solution to clean her floor. Double checking to make sure she definitely out, Vanessa closed the cupboard and stood up to grab her things. It looked like she was going shopping. As she gathered her necessities and placed them in her crossbody purse, she was struck with a sudden yearning for cookies. Deciding to get ingredients for those in the same trip, she headed out.

While carefully descending the stairs into the main lobby, she heard heavy footsteps with the same intention just ahead of her. Wondering who it could have been and if she knew them, the tiny girl was met with her answer just a few steps above the first floor. Jack was stopped, pausing to look around a moment with a drill in his hand. Although it was a strange scene, Vanessa could infer his purpose for having the tool. Lightly coughing so as not to startle the other (he had a tendency to sometimes be deeply absorbed in his thoughts and she was told that her footsteps were as quiet as a church mouse's), Vanessa donned a friendly, albeit meek, smile.

"Good morning, Jack. How are you?" the librarian pleasantly greeted as she walked down the last steps to officially enter the lobby. Brushing some hair behind her ear, her brown eyes trailed to the drill in his hand. "Um, are you fixing something?"

..

Alex let a couple chords ring out. He was trying to make something new this time. He wasn't sure what kind of song he was going with, he was simply experimenting. Other noises began mingling in with the peace and quiet that had once filled the air. Not all of them were exactly pleasant, but all of them did manage to mess with his head. No matter what he played, nothing seemed right. Sighing, the musically inclined male lowered in instrument. He tried to focus his attention on only the sounds he was making. A couple chords later, and he was making progress again.

"Mornin, Slick," A voice called out. Alex looked up to see Quinn greeting him. She looked pretty ragged, but he didn't want to question it. She might be uncomfortable giving him an answer.

“Morning, Quinn,” He smiled, and returned her half wave, half salute. She usually had quite a different sleeping schedule than he did, so he didn't see her around much. However, it was nice to see her when he did. The smoking girl went on her way, hopefully to get some sleep, and Alex went back to what he was doing. A melody was starting to come along. It was graceful and smooth. Seems as though he was just in that kind of mood since all his song seemed to be like that this morning.

It wasn't until Max came by, that Alex put his guitar back down. “Don’t worry,you’ll always be my princess, Max.” The silver haired boy grinned jokingly. He then proceeded to pack his guitar back into it's case. “Abby was up early to tend to the gardens, and woke me up. So I decided to practice a bit outside. You know how thin the walls are here, I didn't want to wake anyone up.” Alex stood up with his guitar. “I'm gonna go put this away, you wanna come with? Afterwords we can go out, I don't have work until 5.”

@Sputnik@Oni_@Awesomoman64@Knight of Doom

Cassandra's pop opera - heh, popera - was disrupted by the buzz of her phone on the kitchen counter. She wrapped up washing the plate in her hands before drying off and walking around the counter to check the notification. It was a text from two minutes ago, and the buzz she had heard was the second alert that she had a text. Huh. Maybe she really did sing too loud.

She picked up the phone, taking a moment to consider how she would respond to Doris. It wasn't a long moment at all; as soon as Cassandra paused to think, she heard the horror that was Doris' workout video.


Cassandra went to place her phone back down onto the counter, but stopped herself. That demanded a follow up text.


As she set her phone down back onto the counter, Cassandra heard applause coming from her doorway. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here for the rest of the goddamn year until my lease is up!" Cassandra shouted at her mysterious fan before moving to sit down at her desk. She opened her laptop, heading straight to her blog to check the comments on her last blog post.

The post was pretty bland, if Cass was being honest. She had shared an article she read regarding the future of movies; in particular, how there were more movies releasing in the next couple years than the industry would be able to handle, and how it was likely set to implode upon itself. She had spent a couple paragraphs lamenting the tragic loss of relentless superhero movies before shifting gears towards what kind of implications this could have on other popular media industries, particularly her own niche of being an internet-based entertainer.

The comments, however, were always interesting. She had caught a glimpse of them while her mother was around; a lot of them were actual constructive discussion about the article she shared, but more than a handful were something close to, "omg no pics this time wtf do u think we go to ur blog for u slut." Cass loved those; it made organizing a potential blacklist on her comments section so much easier.

Her phone buzzed again. Cassandra slid the office chair across the room to the counter, checking the phone. She was expecting a response back from Doris, so when she found an email notification from her bank regarding a deposit titled "A Present from Mom, for that camera you've wanted," Cassandra was understandably excited. She grinned as she checked her balance; her mom always pulled through when Cassandra really didn't need her to. She switched over to her messaging app:


Then,


Cassandra pocketed her phone, grabbing her pack of cigarettes and lighter from the desk and skipping her way outside. She made her way to the garden - no, not the garden, because Abby might behead her. Cassandra skipped straight past the garden, past Alex and Max, and stopped a good distance from the two boys. She lit her cigarette, breathing in deeply as the smoke filled the air.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra looked over Alex. Not for any reasons of her own - it was definitely one of those days where she was 100% not interested in the guy. But she couldn't get past the idea that her mom liked the kid and wanted her to get with him. Or that her mom might be interested in him for herself. Hopefully Mama Reynolds didn't try anything with the guy. That'd be fucking awkward. She'd have to ask him about it once he wrapped up his plans with Max.

She'd also have to stop fucking staring at him, but it's not like she knew she was staring.

@Knight of Doom@fluorescent

Max gasped and put both his hands over his heart ”You always know just what to say to a girl.” The sarcasm in his reply was overly present. With that bit over his hands dropped back to the side and slid halfway into his pockets. He couldn't help but chuckle when Alex mentioned the complex's thin walls, ”Oh I hear ya. Can’t tell you how many noise complaints I’ve gotten.” There were more than a few occasions where Max got a little too excited and forgot to control his volume. Normally this was only a problem when it happened say at 1 am and certain tenants had either a child with them or a crippling hangover.

Max began thinking through his schedule, or lack thereof seeing as it was Saturday which was his usual day off. ”Sure, I got nothing going on today. What did you have in mind?” Max asked with a chipper smile. Before Alex had a chance to answer, however, Max noticed Cassandra, who had previously skipped by the two, currently had her eyes fixed on silver haired boy. Max looked over at the garden as not to start staring as well but gave his friend a heads up. ”Hey, admirer at 3 o'clock. Smokey’s got her crosshair locked on you. Something going on between you two? Would explain the singing earlier.”

---

---

For teachers, Saturdays were supposed to be something to look forward too; the time to sleep in, be lazy, relax after a usually tiring week of being in a job that definitely deserved better pay. However, this wasn't the case for Fletcher. Always having been an early riser, no matter the time he went to bed the previous night, he always found himself waking up shortly after the time his alarm was supposed to be screaming at him. Though, on these days, he could be a bit more slow in getting up. There was even the attempt to let himself doze back off but the clock kept saying it was almost six in the morning and his eyes wouldn't stay closed. No matter how late he stayed up last night binge-watching Netflix and drinking more wine than one man should alone, he had woken up a little before six, and couldn't find it in himself to want to remain in bed, to try and stay in that wonderful place between sleep and wakefulness.

Not that Fletcher was bothered. Again, he had always been an early riser. Even in college, he rarely slept past nine, though there were those days he'd wake up, groggy and confused, at noon that had totally been worth it. Sometimes, he still had those, and they could be surprisingly refreshing. But not today. Instead, he slowly crawled his way out of bed with a yawn, giving a good stretch when he untangled his legs from the covers. Tuesday would mark his fourth week at Eden Gardens and he was really happy with the place so far. It was a nice apartment, and he couldn't complain about anything. Not that he really would, anyway, if he discovered something wrong unless it was that much of a bother. Even then, he'd try to deal with it first before complaining.

Many people, at this time of the morning, would settle down with a cup of coffee at this point and bring themselves to more awareness. But Fletcher wasn't like many people. He changed from his comfortable pajamas into gym clothes, just simple sweats and a t-shirt with his highlighter green tennis shoes. They had been a gift from David and honestly, the bright color had grown on him. With his keys, cell phone, and earbuds in tow, he bounded out the door with more pep than one person should be allowed at barely six-thirty. Shape Up was a place he found enjoyment; it was a well kept gym, with plenty of clean equipment and respectable trainers who gave passing tips when walking around. Fletcher liked their attitudes in there. It felt like a judgement free zone which, naturally, he could get behind with ease. He hadn't had an issue there but he had only had his membership for roughly two weeks now. Though with being an easy going guy, he probably wouldn't have any issues and if he did, it wouldn't bother him so much anyway.

Sweating near seven in the morning shouldn't feel so good. Cover me with kisses, baby, cover me with love, roll me in designer sheets- Blondie sung quietly in his ears, blending in with the sound of his pounding feet on the treadmill and the few others doing their own thing in the background, swirling together to make him feel relaxed and energized not only for this work out, but the upcoming day. It was easy to let himself get lost in his work out, to just pay attention to going, moving forward, to let the music and the sounds flow through his head. Exercising had always been something fun to Fletcher; the pushing through the pain, the breaking a barrier and achieving a goal, the keeping his body fit - it made him feel good, bouncy, ready for anything. He couldn't quite grasp people who didn't actively enjoy it but he wasn't going to put them down for it, either. Free will did exist after all.

Almost an hour of various music that did not mesh well, and hitting up a couple other machines that got his muscles burning, he decided to head back. He did have a few papers to grade, but tomorrow was Sunday, and there was always the free time that day brought tomorrow. He hoped he left the papers in his car. If not, he wasn't sure where he had put them, in all honesty. The coffee table, maybe? Or maybe even in his bedroom, on his dresser. It wouldn't be the first time. Either way, he needed to pick up his clutter, straighten up a few things, actually put away those clean dishes he had been telling himself to do for the past few days. Maybe he needed to dedicate his time to that today. Cleaning a little. It'd be productive, that was for sure. He mused all this as he made his way back to his apartment, seeing signs of life from other residents which surprised him. Most were college students and he wouldn't had expected to see some up and about at this time, but alas, some were. He kindly greeted the ones he passed before disappearing into his new home. He needed a good scrub before he settled down for some coffee.

The water pressure at this place was amazing. It was always strong and the hot water lasted a fair amount of time. That always resulted in Fletcher lingering under the spray, letting the water beat into his back and giving a soft sigh as it did so. He needed a hot tub with jets and nothing less, that was for sure. After a few more minutes of being selfish and just savouring, he got out to put on his outfit for the day. Nothing extremely nice, of course. He wasn't planning on heading out, maybe to the grocery store later after he peeked in his fridge, so he had no one to impress. Not like he had anyone at his school to impress either. He got along fairly well with most of the others teacher and the kids could really give less craps about what he wore. Just if he was there and attentive.

As he bent over the sink brushing his teeth, he heard a familiar voice, but that didn't mean he was any less startled. He jerked upright, accidentally swallowing his foamy mint-flavoured spit, and covering his mouth as he coughed. He heard all of what Clarence said, and tried to take a deep breath to reply, but Clarence kept speaking. What he said didn't help Fletcher; the man wanted to laugh but he was trying to not cough, too, so after some struggling, he managed a loud throat clearing and to get some water down his throat to help himself out. Which wasn't pleasant tasting at all. “Uh, sure,” he called, though he doubted Clarence was lingering and waiting for his response. He was just glad he had kept his little coughing fit quiet. That would have been embarrassing and he was sure he embarrassed himself enough in front of Clarence. Or he felt like it. He felt like his face got too hot sometimes, or he got too loud saying something in excitement. It didn't help with Aria usually being around. Precious thing, he was so taken with her. If he didn't have her in his class next year, he was going to be devastated. She was so smart and mature for her age, it honestly reminded him of himself as a kid. That and she was so very adorable, that all that combined was Fletcher's weakness.

He finished up in the bathroom after that little episode, putting on a pair of jeans and a v-neck long-sleeved sweater that was a slate gray color. He wasn't trying to look nicer than he intended earlier, no way, this was just the first thing he grabbed out of his closet. He slipped on a pair of gray socks because like a dork, he wanted to match those two things, and left his damp hair to just flop over his forehead. He never bothered with it anyway, a simple run through with his fingers and it was pushed back and somewhat made an effort to stay. He was relieved he hadn't had the forethought to start a pot of coffee while he was in the shower or else he'd feel kind of stupid wasting it in favour of going over to Clarence’s for some company. While he wasn't the most social person in the world, he wanted to get to know his fellow residents better, and he felt rude to deny an invitation like that when he wasn't planning on going anywhere to begin with. Nonetheless, Clarence seemed like a good guy, and he wanted to get to know him better… he was handsome too, so that helped, but Fletcher tried his best to not pay that fact too much attention. The single dad thing didn't help anything at all but Fletcher was strong.

After walking through his apartment a few times to find his phone - he had carelessly tossed it onto his bed and didn't see it until the third time he went looking - he made sure to firmly close his door when he stepped out. He felt bad since Clarence had been pretty helpful to him since he moved in and was nice enough to watch out for him, even help him find his keys - or phone or earbuds or even his shoe - since he made enough noise in a rush trying to find the seemingly lost items himself. He had already apologized and thanked him about a thousand times which he was sure was growing annoying but he wasn't sure what else he could say besides sorry and thank you. He stepped in front of Clarence’s door and here, he hesitated. Does he knock and wait? Or knock and go in? Yep, you're going to overthink this. He invited you so… knock and go in. That's good. No way he'd be upset. That'd be weird. Fletch, shut up and go in. with a head shake at himself, he knocked and opened the door, of course finding it unlocked.

He heard soft music coming from the kitchen area, the smell of coffee lingering in the air, and went in that direction to see Clarence sitting at the island. He smiled as he walked over, standing beside the island rather than sitting down. “Hey, sorry about the door… but thanks for, again, looking out. I really suck at this responsible adult thing. Oh, and uh, thanks for the coffee date- or I mean, hang out, invite... thing. Could use the company. Especially if you’re playing Whitney Houston.” he tried to resist the urge to let his eyes linger on Clarence when, suddenly, he looked around, as if looking for something, then disappointment clouded his face. “Oh, just remembered you don't have Aria on the weekends… come Monday, I demand a play date with her.” he said with a bigger smile and while he was slightly joking, he did want to see Aria something fierce. Fletcher got easily attached to things and people but especially kids that were sweeties.

Jack rotated on his heels as he heard the familiar voice behind him, his shoulders already raised in a defensive stance. "Um, Hi. Vanessa. Yeah, I thought today I'd work on the screws on the paintings, here in the lobby. It's, you know, with water damage and everything they sort of start to pop out, which they've been doing, which is no good for the wall, so if nobody does anything about that you can get some pretty... serious damage..."

The boy swallowed sharply and tilted his head sharply. "Are you... going to the library? Or, no, it's Saturday, you wouldn't be... where are you going, then?" Small talk was not Jack's strong suit, and especially not with the mousy little librarian in front of him. He shuffled away without waiting for a response, moving over to a Georgia O'Keefe painting of a flower (that wasn't really of a flower, Alex had explained to him a few days ago), and revving up the drill in his hands. The screw on this one was all bent and popped out of shape, so it took a little while for the drill to get purchase - Jack stopped halfway through the task to lean back into Vanessa's sight.

"Oh, uh! Vanessa! You talk to Maxwell a lot, right? Next time you see him, could you ask when I can drop his controller off? I fixed it, there was just some dust and hair and crap in the - well, you don't really care, but I don't really have his phone number and I don't know when he's in..." his admittedly lame excuse for something else he could say to her tapered off and he cocked his head again, actually waiting for a response this time, his hands still on the wall with the painting.

---

"GO SUCK A DICK, BISHAP!!" Lewis groaned at the 6 feet towering menace that dashed off cackling his heart out. "Fuck." the bruised boy sighed, rubbing the blood off his knees and forehead while also ruining the pristine white sleeves of his shirt. Admittedly, it looked worse than it hurt so he brushed it off and stood up from the pavement then he examined the damage to his bike which has taken the fall much harder than its owner. "God fucking damn it." He whined, seeing the gears all messed up and the front wheels bent ridiculously. What sort of pompous fuckwad does this kind of shit on a Saturday morning? The same kind that calls you up to meet ON A SATURDAY MORNING to pay you to get the schoolwork done even though it's a collaborative project because they have more money than they have kindness, that's who. One would assume that this kind of thing stops in high school, oh but no... some people just can't grow up. "What the fuck ever." he exhaled as he started picking up the paint canisters and putting them back on the bike's basket which surprisingly only had the edges a tad bit dented. He did invest in it, he should probably invest in better wheels too but it's not like he had enough money to do that. It's a good thing he doesn't have mail duties on the weekends.

About to start moving along, His phone buzzed. It was Doris asking for a little help, well paid help. And any pay is better than no pay for Lewis. Bitches gotta earn, it's a hard world out here.



Feeling the drip of blood down his knees, he instinctively wiped the trickle with his other sleeve. Of course the day he wore shorts out, he falls and scrapes his scrawny ass. Typical fucking luck. He walked the frustration off, the black cat following behind him like a misplaced little shadow wagging its tail.

---

The little critter scurried off to the side of the complex as he arrived at the Eden Gardens, home of the broke and the broken. The bent wheels of his precious bike started rolling away. Apparently it wasn't just bent. Neat. He retrieved the runaway wheel and gave up on the bike, for now, and let it rest on the wall. "I'm pretty sure Someone'll fix it up." He wished. Stuck in his unsorted bubble, it took him a while to realize the morning noise of the complex; some high-pitched screaming? singing? wailing? God I can't tell, there was some beautiful humming paired with a guitar getting drowned out by everything else like a lost voice. Rainbows were forming in his eyes. It was named the Eden Jungle sorry, Gardens, after all so there's that. He took the paint canister and went on his merry way, with a little detour in mind.

He soon discovered the origin of the beautiful guitar strumming humming to be none other than the Prince of the Jungle... Garden, Alex. God, his voice was going bright-ass yellow it almost hurt to listen. Who he knew would make a fuss of his bruises so he power-walked hoping he didn't notice. His little detour then took him to Clarence's unit, by accident mind you. Well, incident. WHAT?! Like I don't deserve a little eye candy for my little fall. And as an added bonus, another man-candy with some good buns was hanging out with him. "That's the stuff." he swooned, walking slowly and then rapidly because bruises and these two dads will dad out on him which he doesn't need because he's an independent young man who need no babysitting. And finally, he reached his destination: the hag's den.

"Hey Doortits" he knocked, but his hoarse voice cannot overpower the workout video and she was too focused on "push your chest out, knees apart, now bop up and down, UP and DOWN!". Holy shit is this kama sutra?!?! Lewis opened the door with his spare key, He's literally Doris' boy. "HEY DOORTITS, I KNOW IT'S A PRIVATE MOMENT BUT I'M HERE FOR THE LIST!!" he shouted, more resilient this time. She finally noticed and turned, her wild eyes open and on fire. "Damn mami, u look like a tigah bout to pounce." He whistled.

---

Setting down her bucket of tools, Abby growled in annoyance. Here she was, a simple gardener, attempting to do her job, only to find several cigarette buds lying around her garden. Damn smokers. How was she supposed to do anything when half of the residents in Eden Gardens smoked? They were quite literally killing themselves. The next time she saw one of her pesky neighbors putting one of those killing machines to their mouth, she’d chopped it right off with one of her shears… Perhaps that would teach them. Abby aggressively slid her green rubber gloves over her fingers, making a snapping sound, and proceeded to pick up the abandoned cigarettes.

Once all traces of the cigarettes were gone, Abby moved on to complete her actual responsibilities. She started off by inspecting the flowers, pulling out her shears when she came across a withered Perennial. She carefully cut its stem off, and set it within her basket. Abby felt at peace whenever she was within a garden. There were no people, no expectations, just her and nature. Sometimes she would spend hours out in one, watching the way the flowers moved in the wind, breathing in the aroma of sweetness and purity. Everything just felt right.

As she was just about to move onto watering, Abby’s eyes caught some weeds near the edge of the garden. Rotten pests, she’d lose it if they infested her garden. Taking off her rubber gloves, Abby began walking back to her apartment. She had recently heard about using boiling water to get rid of weeds, and she thought today would be perfect to try it out. Although, when Abby came around the corner near the front entrance, she began to hear voices.

Ugh. People.

“Not today,” She voiced out to herself, and took a sidetrack through the back. Relaxing to her normal ‘bitch’ face, Abby walked into the main lobby of the apartment. Two people were conversing together, but she paid them no attention and continued on her way. Stopping to say hello was something Abby never did, it was pointless. She’d rather be forced to choke on melting gold than sit through a boring conversation, especially with one of her neighbors.

Once Abby finally made it into her apartment without interacting with anyone, she filled up her kettle with water and placed it on the stove. Despite Alex’s lack of interest in cleaning, Abby managed to keep the apartment looking somewhat in order. She wasn’t a super clean freak, but she didn’t like seeing the house decorated in garbage either. Someone had to do it, anyway. Folding her arms, Abby waited silently for the kettle to cry out.

The soothing peace and quiet was quietly shattered as more yelling and screaming took place in the hallway. Damn them. She’d need to speak to Marc about making these walls soundproof before she tore them down herself and made everyone shut up. It seemed no one knew what having neighbors meant. Popping her head outside of her room, Abby’s eyes darkened as she found the recent voice was Lewis.

“Hey dumbass, would you shut up?” She yelled out before slamming her door shut. Honestly, how much misfortune did she get with these neighbors? All of them were either awkward as hell or possessed no ability to shut up.

Finally, the kettle whistled and Abby gladly turned off the stove, grabbed some mittens, the kettle, and made her way back to the garden. Perhaps she should have waited to test this theory out tomorrow, it was definitely not worth it to see all of these people so early in the morning. You’d think someone spiked all of their coffee, heavens above.

---

---

"Pump that booty up like there's no tommorrow!" And so she did, her body dribbling in sweat, her eyes glinting with focus and determination as she pump it up with so much vigor. Clarence came knocking, barely hearing him over the door but still held herself in place as she replied back at him in a yell. "So sweet of you to offer Clancey but .. " " Everybody beeeeend!" Doris was so into this, erecting herself back up taking a breather moment as the tv toned down a bit. "... this is kind of important. If you want I'll drop by later." she said in deep appreciation, and like the times the man invited her even if he doesnt really drink. Although she's learn to moderate her drinking with Clarence around, after what happened the first and the last time she she was while with him. When the booze hits, she doesn't really have a preference who to hit on and Clarence is very much difficult to resist.

As she goes on with her work out she got a reply from Cass, and snorted at what she just read. "Richard Simmons. Good one." Doris peeked at the mirror next to her and Cass definitely aced it. Another text followed, and though Doris is pretty sure it's a totally different guy on the TV, her mockery was deeply provoking. She sent a text while doing her squats as instructed by the mustachioed fellow on tv.



As she hit send on her sarcastic text to Cass, Doris smiled as she threw her phone on the sofa, her body stretched and hands folded behind her head as she did her squats, taking deep sighing breaths. The music was louder this time and anything that came yelling on her front door was deafened, mid squatting she jumped when she heard a clearly audible voice, Lewis who was now inside her apartment, leaning on the door frame of her living room while watching her.

"Jesus H. Christ, Lewis! How the hell did you get in!?" Then she remembered giving him a spare key to her apartment, if ever she'd gone a whole day without checking in, she had trusted him enough to make him put away her deliveries and not just leave them on the front porch. She finally paused the t.v and the whole room bathed in peace, facing Lewis her irritated expression turned to worry when she saw him all bruised up and bloodied.

"Who did this? I'm gonna break their sorry necks."she remembered saying to her youngest brother when he once came home with a bloodied nose, bruised and crying and she almost said the same thing to Lewis if she hadn't held her lips. It was a sort of deja vu moment for Doris considering she grew up taking care of her brothers, "Jeez kid, who did you pissed off this time? Sit." Doris pointed on the sofa for Lewis as she wiped her sweat with a towel, and as if by instinct she grabbed an ice bag on the freezer and some bandages and antiseptic on the med cabinet. Doris handed him the pack, and assisted him on patching up his bloodied knees.

"Next time if you're looking for a fight, try picking on someone you can handle." Smiling, she said in a somewhat encouraging tone. In other words though it was her way of saying "please be careful next time. I worry and I don't want you getting hurt." but theres no way Doris would get herself caught dead saying that to just about anyone. After giving him a hand she rested her back on the sofa, legs crossed as if to catch her exhaustion "Now, why don't you help me put those away." She pointed at the bag of groceries on the floor next to the sofa. "I'm not paying you thirty bucks on mere fetching duty." And indeed thirty bucks was more than enough for that, and Lewis doesnt usually mind it as long as the pay is right.