"Peanuts?"

The young stewardess asked, leaning over. Thuy looked up, "Yeah sure." she stated, putting her hand out as the woman placed the bag in her hand. She fiddled with the plastic wrapper before opening up the salty snack and popping a few into her mouth. To the right of her, a foot emerged between the airline seats. A decayed foot, grey in texture and decrepit. The toe nails broken and black. Her eyes widened as she outstretched her arm above her head to press the help button to summon back the stewardess. Pressing it multiple times the woman finally came. "Get this thing away from me!" Thuy exclaimed, pointing towards the foot. The stewardess smiled, leaning over Thuy and ripped the foot directly from the leg and dropping it into Thuy's lap.

"FUCK."

A gasp escaped the girl's lips as she awoke from her strange dream. She was kicking herself for watching that horror movie last night before bed. Shooing her cat off her bed, Thuy shifted and reached for her phone that sat on the bed side table. It was already noon, but sleeping in wasn't too uncommon for the girl. Especially when she had the day off. She looked through her phone swiping off notifications from social networks and different applications.

Reading a few texts, she quickly remembered it was Phillip's birthday party today. She was awfully excited to be celebrating with all her friends, and knew that this would not be an event to forget. Phil always went above and beyond with his events. Texting back to him she wrote:



She sent it and got out of bed in a hurry. Most of her family was gone doing their own events so she had the place to herself for a minute. The basement was mostly her own in a way anyways, minus the laundry room and the karaoke machine. Getting a shower out of the way, she did only just a small amount of make up and getting ready- wanting to leave the over the top things for the party. She adorned herself in some jean shorts and a plain black tee shirt, a pair of timberlands on her feet.

A true new yorker.

Taking several buses and at least two full cigarettes, Thuy eventually made her way to the coffee house. Walking in she spotted Phil instantly, a smile across her face. As she approached him she began to sing, "Happy Birthdayyyy to you, Happy Birthday to youuu, Happy Birthday dearrr Philllly, Happy Birthday to you!" she had reached the table and hopefully got at least a smile out of him. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Sitting down across the table from him. "Pick whatever you want to eat and to drink, I'm treating." she stated, grabbing a menu from the side of the table and browsing at what she wanted.

The music pumping from Nylah’s earphones dimmed to allow a ‘ding’ to surface and inform Nylah that she’d received a new text message. Slowing down to a walking-pace jog, Nylah slipped the device out of its pocket in her armband — a impulse buy she’s not yet regretting, for once — and clicked it on to see Phillip apologizing for bailing out. Slowing to a stop at the side of the road, Nylah typed a quick response to the boy.

Philly Cheesesteak —
Depositing her phone back in its rightful place in her armband, Nylah started up running again, eyes focused on nothing in particular. Alright, Nylah. One more loop — let’s do this, she thought encouragingly to herself as she amped up the pace. Her hair — tied back — swished behind her, but Nylah ignored it in favor of the chilly yet refreshing morning breeze and the background noise of Sia’s The Greatest.

---

When the run was done and over with, Nylah had hitched a ride home on a taxi. A shower and a change of clothes later, Nylah checked the clock and figured that it was about time to go buy some real food. Picking up her phone, she pulled up Kieran’s number.

The Bear of Sesame—
Hitting the send button with a grin, Nylah slid her phone into her bag, double-checked as to whether she’d forgotten anything, and made for the door. Feels like a booties kind of day, she mused to herself, pulling the shoes off the shoe rack and slipping them on before checking herself out in the mirror she’d set up directly across from the door. A girl dressed in red plaid over a white long sleeve and black leggings smiled at her, and Nylah winked back. This’ll do for now. We’ll save the fancy-schmancy stuff for tonight.

Locking her door and walking down the single flight of stairs, Nylah unlocked her car with a beep of her keys and started it up, making for the bagel place. Wonder if I should give Kieran a call? she thought as she pulled into the parking lot a small distance from the shop. Around five minutes later she was in line — any bagel store that didn’t have a line around brunch wasn’t a real NYC bagel store — waiting to order her toasted turkey-avocado bagel sandwich. Pulling out her phone as she waited, Nylah grinned and drafted a few responses to various chat groups.

The Whole Gang —
The Perpetually Drunk Epicureans —
“Next!” the cashier called. As the person in front of her left, Nylah looked up and noticed that she was now first in line. Alright Kier-bear. It’s now or never for that free bagel sandwich, Nylah thought, looking around the cafe for a specific long-haired blonde.

The first thing Kieran saw when he woke up was black. It was the preferred color of choice upon opening his eyes, but the second he moved his arm, the sunlight told him how much the ex-Canuck was going to pay for sleeping through his usual morning run on this day.

"Ugggggggh. Jesus wept... Really?" The Bible verse quoted was as close as Kieran usually got to swearing, his parents having raised him better than to be talking gutter slang, but they also didn't raise him to avoid a late night challenge from a Ruskie who doubted his ability to play the game of Drink. At least he earned enough to cover the tab...and then some. Plus it was a proper training session for the day and night to come.

Stumbling out of the bed that dominated a good chunk of the back of his studio apartment, Kieran headed over to the coffee table to check his laptop. Video highlights had been posted of the west coast games, Oilers/Sharks ending up a duller affair than expected, and the Flames burning up Vancouver. A bunch of wasted space and potential pixels if he chose to write about it, save for another Pat Maroon goal. But it wouldn't read well in the city. The East Coast Bias held strong today.

"Guess I could rile up the Maroon vs. Lucic debate, but that's so knee-jerk..." Looking down at the phone still charging next to the computer, he spotted the blue light blinking, letting him know his inbox had some booming business this morning. "Heh, should have known everyone would be active already today."

He read through in order. First, the birthday boy. There wasn't any chewing out on not getting the run in this morning. "Dodged a bullet, I guess." Phil's text on the group thread regarding theme for his big shindig was entirely expected considering what Kieran knew of his fellow aspiring journalist. Still, Kieran wondered how serious Phil would be on enforcing his rule on maintaining a proper theme.



Right after that was another text, Phil again, making sure Rui was going to be at the party.



The latest direct one was Nylah though, and that got Kieran's heart racing a little more to make up the lack of cardio. "Shoot!"

Ever since he got that gig doctoring up scripts on that play, something he never thought about even attempting but still owed Shean a few beers for in appreciation for the reference, the actress had been firmly planted on his radar. Even after those first couple hangout sessions where they were feeling each other out, figuring out what they had in common aside from reporting to a dark theater for a bit of time, it was clear that something was growing. Now the regular hangout sessions; writing, rehearsing, even getting her to watch some hockey with him, Islanders only, it was one of the few things that actually made him thankful to Andrew Carroll for what he did.

Plus, he wasn't going to pass up a free breakfast. But he knew how quickly Nylah could blitz through the average bagel crowd. She had that home-ice advantage.



Now that he potentially had an egg white, swiss cheese and maple turkey sausage on sesame seed bagel waiting for him in the very near future, Kieran was awake and motoring through the apartment. He grabbed a pair of blue jeans from the floor, slipped on a hanging grey t-shirt and slid his feet into his running sandals, ready to head out the door. "I'll be fine in this...Yeah it's warming up to 45 today...Now keys are...here, wallet...still in there. All right then."

The five minutes he ran to the nearby bagel shop were almost effortless for the former hockey player. The problem was it used to be completely effortless. "That's what I get. Ah well, I'll be good tomorrow."

Kieran straightened up his mess of long blonde hair as best he could and entered the shop. A quick glance from his vantage point revealed how impeccable his timing was as the redhead of Nylah Weiss was at the front of the line, placing an order. He confidently strolled up to his fellow creator of art and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I believe you requested some company, miss?"

---

Rui was a morning person.

Perhaps it was the fact that other people were typically too tired to bother him, or that breakfast was his favourite meal, and it certainly helped that his schedule tended to be light, but he found himself sprung out of the bed with a vigour and enthusiasm that used to disturb his housemates.

He didn’t have housemates now, thank God. His apartment was his own: comfortable, albeit studio, it was bare but for the essentials. It was also, as one might expect, in near-meticulous order. His gym clothes hung, prepared, on a clothes rail, partitioned from his afternoon-wear and evening-wear. Routine dictated that he would be in those clothes in two minutes and outside for his jog within five - forty minutes later he’d return, shower and moisturise. But sometimes he would check his email, and that morning such an unfortunate decision was made:



Caralho!

Rui’s brow furrowed but the intensity of his gaze failed to bore a hole through the laptop screen. The expletives grew more violent: the message remained and it seemed to glare back. There was a pause, a despondent grunt followed, and then, with the lyrical fluency of someone who had spent too much of the last decade in lecture halls, he rapidly typed a response.



“Caralho.” That time he swore out loud; his head sunk into his hands. Truth was, his job market paper wasn’t close to finished. In fact, he hadn’t touched it since December. God knows what he had been doing instead - the last number of months were a blur. The barest of considerations were offered to that, still. Instead, his mind raced with imaginings of his father’s disappointment. The sudden feeling of nausea that induced forced his gaze up and out of his arms.

With furious intent he began to type.

He couldn’t be a failure.

---

The buzz of his phone was ignored at first, and at second. It was with the third buzz that he surrendered. His fingers glided across the screen to build a house, unlocking the phone. His face dropped as he scanned the messages. He’d completely forgotten about Phillip’s birthday - and the party. Eyes crinkling as he considered his options, a hand automatically began tugging his hair. He couldn’t outright abandon it at this late stage - God knew he had been doing that too much lately - so when he decided that was actually what he was going to do, he worded the message as diplomatically as possible. In other words, he lied.



The send button was hit with the slightest tinge of guilt. He couldn’t keep doing this to his friends.

When Phillip said what he was going to have, Thuy decided that sounded like a good order, and she would have the same. "Good choice. I'll have the same!" she exclaimed putting her menu back down and the waiter to come and help them. After so many years in the food business she was not so picky about wait staff, because she knew they had hundreds of things to do in between picking up new orders. Thankfully the coffee house wasn't so busy so they didn't have too much to do. However, the idea of making intricate drinks and cleaning out huge machines made Thuy's head spin.

As Phil asked how she been the girl parted her lips to speak but decided to wait until he was done texting. She had forgotten her phone was on silent in her pocket. The girl never wore a purse so her pockets were often filled to the brim with a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, her phone, and an odd wad of cash. Sometimes her ID, when she remembered it. Digging out her phone she read through the messages and notifications and responded back to what she felt was necessary.



She sent the text with a little giggle as Philip explained himself. "No worries hun, I forgot about it myself." she wiggled her phone in front of him to show that she had the same agenda replying back to the gang. "I've been good though, you know the same old same. Working my ass off for really nothing. Dying to get out of my parents house. It's a drag. I'm not too bummed out about it though." she continued, "I keep having this weird dream though, that I'm on a flight and the person behind me puts their nasty ass foot out, and the stewardess comes and rips it off and puts it in my lap. I don't know if it's just all those damn scary movies I watch or it means something deeper." she shrugged, grabbing a hair tie from her wrist and tying her blonde locks into a loose bun on the back of her head.

The waiter came and took their matching order.

A smile across the birthday boy's lips was a good sight to see. He asked her about the parade and she couldn't say no. "Um, duh. Yes!" she exclaimed. "That would be a lot of fun." she nodded, as their food came quickly and efficiently. Taking a big bite out of her muffin, she wiped away crumbs from her lips, shirt and any other area that they traveled to.

---

Awaking from her alcohol-induced slumber, Olivia woke up on her bed still dressed in the clothes she was wearing last night. The last thing she remembered was getting home from work, and then opening the fridge. After that it was all black. Based on the assortment of bottles on her nightstand, seemed like she had gotten a little busy. Because she knew she would be drinking that night, she had gotten properly hydrated and avoided a killer hangover, which was good considering today was a rather important day for her good friend, Phillip.

Her phone chimed with a text notification, coming from the man of the day, Phillip. She stared at the ceiling, blinking twice and getting her mind together before she rolled over to check her phone. A quick thumbing of the home button and she was in, the message right in front of her big brown eyes. A quick smile flashed on her face before she started thinking of a reply. She dawdled, typing in the first few words before typing "chicken nugget" three times to help her think. She then finally found the words she was looking for.



She needed to get freshened up for the day, as well as figure out what she was going to be wearing tonight for Phillip's birthday. And so she rolled out of bed, in a way that only Olivia would manage after a night of frat bro-level drinking. Stepping into the bathroom, loud exhaling and slight cursing could be heard as she prepared herself for the day ahead of her. She did not bring her phone with her as she took care of herself, leaving her texts unread for the time being.

Forty five minutes later, Olivia came out ready to tackle the day ahead of her. Dressed in a white blouse and black slim fit pants, she walked up to her phone which had just lit up with signs of a text. The first text she decided to reply to was the one from the lovely Nylah Weiss. Olivia was pretty much given gluttony, which was fine since that means she would have to wear something that suited her archetype. Given her drinking habits, it was quite appropriate.



A sudden realization lead her to think of claiming gluttony as hers in the group chat between all six of the friends. She exited out of the previous group chat and then into the primary group chat. She took a quick moment to catch up before typing in her response. The "chicken nugget" came out again as she was thinking of what to type.



Then, to Olivia's delight, came a rather raunchy text from her best friend, Cece. So she was going with a more slutty approach? Olivia was tempted to go with a slutty approach too, but she didn't know how to fit it with her archetype. She smirked and replied to Cece, her fingers tapping on the screen furiously and rapidly.



With that, Olivia was done with the texts that she had received and was free to move from her bedroom. She clutched her phone in her right hand and stepped out into the living room, which had an empty case of whatever it was she was drinking last night. Speaking of things that people should be doing... Olivia unlocked her phone and pulled up Rui's contact, before tapping into the message box

Nylah was just about ready to pay when a hand clamped down on her shoulder, spooking her enough to cause her to flinch. Whirling around, Nylah saw who it was and grinned broadly. “Kieran, just in time to confirm that I indeed ordered the correct thing this time — Canuck Cluster, right?” Turning to the cashier again, Nylah handed her credit card over with a smile. “If it weren’t for my parents, I really would be a starving artist right now,” Nylah said to Kieran, a wry smile on her face as she took back the card.

While not entirely ashamed of the fact that she still relied on a monthly allowance of sorts from her parents, Nylah wasn’t exactly proud of it either, but it saved her from becoming a waiter — a career path that almost every actor in New York always seemed to consider at some point. In fact, Nylah thought, thanking the cashier politely before walking over to the waiting area, she’s probably an aspiring actor too. Or artist — either or.

Setting the depressing thoughts aside, Nylah turned to Kieran with a grin. “So, how was your night? I’m assuming that — since I couldn’t reach you via Snapchat after ten pm — you were out?” Nylah’s hand shot up just as their order arrived at the pick-up counter, bagged separately and everything. “Seriously, why do they bother calling out the numbers? We’re all watching them like hawks waiting for a chance to strike — which, since we’re picking up food, is a pretty apt comparison if i do say so myself.”

Picking up the two bags and handing on of them to Kieran — “The one that smells better, no surprises there,” — Nylah led the way outside of the shop and towards one of the tables set up by the shop. “Let’s pretend to be tourists,” Nylah joked, referencing the fact that New Yorkers hardly ever touched the cafe benches and chairs since they always had somewhere to be, always had somewhere to go after grabbing their food. “First, I’ll stage my food and take a picture of it before eating,” she said, unwrapping her bagel and lowering it onto the table. Just before it touched, however, Nylah retracted her arm. “Just kidding — I’m way too hungry for that.”

Taking a satisfying bite of her toasted turkey avocado on whole grain — Nylah’s father imbued into her a tendency to eat healthy when offered the choice, if nothing else — Nylah chewed and swallowed before speaking again. “So, it’s Phillip’s birthday. Did you get him anything?” she asked, taking another bite of her bagel.

The old saying goes there is no such thing as a free lunch. Good thing that was never extended to free breakfast. Considering his prospects before Nylah offered to buy were Eggos or toast, Kieran was going to enjoy whatever she bought. The fact that it was a delicious Canuck Cluster, a sandwich he coined at the restaurant but never extended to a rhyming moniker, made it as sweet as the maple syrup embedded in the sausage.

The Canadian laughed at the show of Nylah sarcastically Instagramming the bagel acquisition. Or at least laughed as best he could with food in his mouth. He wasn't waiting to capture the aura of his sandwich, he was starving after last night's exploits. The redhead had asked where he was, but she quickly moved on. Part of her personality I guess.

After taking a huge bite out of the breakfast, Kieran listened to all that Nylah had brought up and did his best to answer the questions as they came. "Let's see...Yes, night was good, yes, tradition, and kinda?"

The ex-hockey player took another bite but he guessed that Nylah would want more details on that last one...as well as what happened at the Rock Pile. "It's not a heck of a lot, which is good cause of the whole budget thing." He rubbed the back of his head. "Just a notebook that I saw while around downtown. It's back at the homestead, but it's a real solid one' durable, water-resistant. Just something for the Journalism bro, you know?"

Another mouthful of egg, cheese and meat was taken in. "I mean, it's the least I can do, right? If it weren't for him, I'd never have gotten anywhere in the city." Kieran shook his head. "Least until I can pay him back proper with, I dunno, a new console or something."

He looked back up at Nylah, as if snapped out of his self-reflective trance, "Oh, and booze. Can't forget about the booze. Got my share of that covered tonight." Propping his elbows on the table as he held the remaining half of his breakfast, he looked at the actress. "How about you? Any big plans cooked up for his present?"

Phillip looked at Cecilia, very intrigued by her persona right about now. He even flashed a small smile her way after he heard say that she had been good despite personal matters going on. A soft chuckle came over his lips as he heard Cecilia talk about a weird dream that she had. His eyes widened as he shook his head towards her. "Wow. That sounds very... weird, to be honest." Phillip muttered towards her as the waiter came back and served them their orders. He thanked the waiter then picked up the muffin and took a bite out of it, even took a small sip from his coffee flavored beverage.

When Cecilia said that she would go to the parade with him, Phillip ate a little bit quicker than usual and grabbed his drink and took multiple small sips out of it. With the coffee in hand, he eyed her and raised a brow up towards her. "So, shall we go ahead and go so we can park and such? You know how these parades get around here." He inquired and mentioned to Cecilia as she reached in his pocket and grabbed his car keys. "I'll even drive us over there and I'll bring you back here." Phillip waited for her response before motioning to do anything further.

Like true New Yorker style, Cecelia finished off the rest of her muffin and drank down her coffee quickly. She paid off the waitress giving her a small tip in exchange for the quick service as well. "Definitely, it's going to be crowded and my short ass needs front row access or I won't be able to see anything!" she laughed, but her barely five feet tall self had a sense of serious in her side comment. "I took the bus and subway over here hun, so it doesn't matter where you drop me off, I'll find my way home." she nodded, and followed him over to his car.

Phillip eyed Cecilia as they walked over towards his car and laughed at her short comment. He wanted to say that he wouldn't just drop her off anywhere but in the back of his mind, he knew that he was going to take her home anyway. No matter how far she lived from his place. He went over to the passenger side and opened the door for Cecilia, smiling as he muttered towards her. "M'lady." Phillip waited until Cecilia was inside the vehicle and closed the door then walked around to get on the driver's side. "Parade here we come."

Phillip uttered those words as he cranked up the vehicle and drove towards the destination of the parade route. He parked in a parking lot behind the route of the parade and got out as he hurried over towards Cecilia's side and opened her door. Whenever she got out, he'd close her door again and lock his vehicle, with a simple click of the button from his key chain. He walked beside Cecilia with excitement, a big, kiddie smile plastered among his facial features. "I am so excited. I haven't been to a parade in about three months." The last parade he went to was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and he had an absolute blast there. Surely, a Saint Patrick's Day Parade wasn't going to be any different.

Cecelia shook her head, her blonde bun wiggling on the back of her neck. Phillip was always over the top with being a gentleman to her. She turned on the radio in the car and blasted some music as they drove. She couldn't help but think to herself how happy she was that he was apart of his life, and happy that for the beginning of his special day he had chose her to spend it with. She sang out to the music loudly, and not the most in tune. Dancing around in the passenger seat as they arrived by the parade.

Cecelia almost beat him to getting out the door but he was so quick to opening it and letting her out. "I'm no lady! You don't need to be doing that cute shit for me." she laughed, getting out as she adjusted the hem of her shorts when she got out of the car, pulling them down so they weren't so hiked up on her thigh. His excitement was adorable as she peeked up at him while they walked. She grabbed his hand and lead him through the crowd, pushing where she needed to so they could get a good view of the parade. As they made their way up to a good spot, she squeezed his hand and released it. "Hope it's just as good as the last one, maybe better."

A simple shook his head came from him once she stated that she was no lady and for him to stop doing the cutesy things for her. Phillip honestly couldn't help it though. That was genuinely how he was inside. Phillip's eyes widened whenever Cecilia grabbed his hand though as she charged through the crowds, with him trailing a few feet behind her. When they made their way to a good spot, he felt her squeeze his hand then released it. He sunk down a little bit then perked back up as he heard the sirens start, signaling the beginning of the parade.

He started to jump up and down, even let out a little squeal like a little kid as he turned around and faced Cecilia, clearing his throat. "Uhm, the parade is starting. So, yeah." Phillip contained his excited composure as he laughed and nudged Cecilia a little bit.

“Glad you asked,” Nylah said with a grin, unlocking her phone and pulling up a picture to show to Kieran. The picture was of a black on orange-and-white sneaker with a very prominent black stamp. “They’re Air Jordans — Air Jordan numero one retro. I think the color was something like ‘reverse shattered backboard.’ tracking down an orange pair was a lot harder than I thought, but most of the challenge was picking the right one.” Nylah paused, looking to Kieran with worry. “Phillip still plays basketball, right? I went out on a limb and bought these instead of running shoes since he mentioned that he played in high school. God, I should have checked, shouldn’t I?” she asked, more to herself than Kieran. “This would be so awkward if he didn’t…”

Kieran was still rolling the bagel bite in his mouth after seeing the present Nylah got. "Uhhhh....." He finally swallowed. Yeah...yeah, he still hoops. Not as much as in high school, but he still does..."

The Canadian was now feeling a bit down on his own present. The resources simply weren't there to compete on the same level that Nylah could. I couldn't even buy my own breakfast and she's got vintage Jordans out of the ether...Dang...

He took another bite, much smaller this time. I think he's going to like 'em just fine, Nylah."

“That's good to hear,” Nylah said, a little relieved to hear that her last-minute order was up to par. Now one-half of the way through her bagel sandwich, she figured that they'd tackle the other important things first. And that includes costumes for tonight.

“So what are you wearing tonight -- you PJ's?” Nylah joked before quickly recovering herself and shooting the Canadian an unamused look. “I hope my guess isn't entirely accurate.”

Nylah was on fire today. Once again, Kieran was forced to stop eating. "Uh...not entirely accurate..." He sighed. "I was going to throw on a sleep mask." He rested his head on his hand, bed hair draped to the side. "I dunno. It was just a joke, but I guess I'm gonna have to run with it. Aside from going and renting an animal costume, I'm not sure what else to do with sloth. Not exactly an 'active' theme, you know?"

“Well the color for sloth is light blue, so I hope you have some PJ's that color," Nylah said in suggestion.

Kieran nodded. "At least I got that going for me then." He took his second to last bite of bagel and quickly swallowed it. "Should be enough to avoid the dagger stares, right? And I probably got Rui to deflect from criticism anyway. Phil wants him to match the theme, but you know how Rui is."

"True. Rui would make an excellent 'Pride,'" Nylah said, grinning in amusement at the thought. "Just imagine: confident in a purple suit with just the right touch of snobbishness"

Speckles of green through the crowd on the streets reminded Nylah that it was Saint Patrick's Day, and she looked to Kieran with a grin. "Isn't there some sort of parade going on tonight for St. Patrick's?"

"Yeah, there is and..." Kieran looked down at his outfit, devoid of any green coloring whatsoever. "Ah jeez...I'm going to get so many pinches today. Least I know I can still take 'em, right?" He finished the last bite of breakfast. "Do you want to go check it out before party prep tonight?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Nylah said, polishing off her own sandwich as well. "Er, where is it at again?"

After some google searches and asking around, Kieran and Nylah were able to find the parade -- and recieve lots of pinches as well as a solo cup or two of Irish whiskey -- before the two split up to head home and change into their outfits.