Freddie woke up in his apartment and looked at the time 9:00. "Shit I'm late for work!" He got up took a quick shower,brushed his teeth and pulled on some clothes and grabbed his helmet.He ran by Anthony who was asleep on his couch." I got to get to work remember to lock my door when you leave! "He called out to Anthony he ran down to the apartments parking space and hopped on his motorcycle a Harley Davidson 2019 Street Rod and put on his helmet.Sliding the visor down he started up the motorcycle and drove towards the gym.

Jenny awoke with a start. The ragged, crackly radio exploded into life and screamed at Jennifer to wake the hell up. Heart racing, Jenny rubbed her eyes and slid out of bed, flicking the old thing off. She thought she set it to play the local radio station but...apparently not. Placing a hand over her naked white chest in reaction to the jumpscare, she compressed her lips and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Damn, that thing was loud. Scared by a buzzer!

Well, it was Thursday, and the radio told time accurately. 5:30 AM. Time to get to work. Mawmaw's...it was a stupid name. Even "Mawmaw" (don't call her that) hated the name. Apparently "Mawmaw"'s (don't call her that) husband, Mr. Jefferson, came up with the name. When he passed away a few years ago she didn't have the heart to change it. Plus, it gives her something to complain about and that's always fun.

Jenny took a shower, brushed her teeth, combed her brown hair, pulled it into her signature ponytail like she did every day, and slipped into her comfortable waitress getup for the day. Next up was breakfast. Delicious toast, orange juice, and crispy wheat cereal. Never got old. Locking the door behind her, she made her way out of the duplex. There was a three person family living in the house built ontop of her own, and they shared rent. In a few days she was invited to a barbeque Mr. Walker was hosting. She was looking forward to that. Hopping on her bicycle, Jenny glided on the smooth sidewalks of Seneca Glen.

Coming a stop, she left her bike unpadlocked and resting against the back of the side of the building. She gave a peppy wave to the cooks, most of whom stopped looking so dreary and gave a little wave back, and entered in through the back.
"Morning, Mrs. Jefferson," Jenny called out.

"Morning, Jenny." The manager of the restaraunt replied. Mrs. Jefferson was eternally early. Jenny wondered if she ever did sleep. Alicia arrived a few minutes later. Busgirl and waitress, Jenny tecnically ranked higher than her, but since they were the only two waitresses on staff and they both worked together until 3 PM, Jenny never really exerted her authory over the other girl or anything like that. They mostly shared duties.

Alicia was texting on her phone. Catching Jenny looking at her, she shrugged and smiled. "What? Not my fault you're some kind of analogue weirdo."

Jenny smirked. "All I know is I won't be mind controlled when Apple activates their technology and takes over the world. I got all I need riiiiight here." Dramatically, she pulled out her flip phone from 2004.

"Go back to caveman times, caveman." Alicia derided in good humor.

"Cavewoman times. It's 2019, get with the program."

"Oh, I need to get with the program? Can that thing even text?"

"Yes! Just...very slowly." She shoved the 'ancient device' back into her back pocket.

Mrs. Jefferson poked her head out from the kitchen. "Back in my day, if you didn't know where somebody was, chances were you'd never see them again. We liked it that way, too." She said, mockingly sage like.

"I wish I never have to saw Alicia again."

"Jenny!" Alicia said, forming her mouth into an O.

"I'm joking! I'm joking."

At 6:30 AM, Mawmaw's was open for business. It wasn't before long that the customers began trickling in for their delicious home made breakfast. Jenny was already on top of it, pencil in one hand and notepad in the other.

---

_{Freddie’s Apartment || 9:00 AM || @Jasper19}
A holler from a room over woke Tony from his sleep, and he sat up groggily, his mouth dry and his head aching. As he took in the apartment around him, his memory of crashing on the couch falling into place along with the other pieces of the previous night, he saw Freddie rush past him, calling for him to lock the door.

“You got it!” he called back, then winced, a hand going up to his head to stabilize himself. Then, raking it through his hair, he yawned loudly, padding his way over to the kitchen. His own place was a bit out of the way, being between the town and the closest park, so Freddie’s place was naturally the next best thing. That is, of course, discounting the presence of his parents’ place, which he disliked staying over at, even if he was heading there now.

In the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water, wincing and blinking a few times before he downed it. Then, stashing it in the sink, he made his way to the bathroom to swish his mouth, splash his face, and brush his hair back with his fingers, before headin out, locking Freddie’s door behind him. After unlocking his bike, he rode the few blocks home, waving to his dad when he pulled up.

“Yo, pops!” he called.

Benjamin Carter, or simply Ben, as he preferred, was the local plumber who’d taught Tony everything he knew about pipes and drains. Currently, he was exiting his truck, acknowledging Tony’s arrival by calling Tony’s name. With a flannel shirt tucked into a worn pair of jeans and a belt to hold it all in place over his still-growing beer belly, Ben looked as old as he was: well into his middle ages and faintly irked by whoever was unfortunate enough to call him early this morning.

Parking his bike in the garage, Tony walked over to Ben, taking what wrenches and tools he was handed. If he had his wrenches and screws straight, it seemed like someone’s backyard faucet had sprung a leak.

“You fix it up, Dad?” he asked, dropping the tools into a spare bucket and hefting that.

Ben snorted. “Of course, who do you take me for? Now, I won’t say no to free money, but there’s something to be said about learning to change your own garden hose. Leaking for over a month—unbelievable.”

Shaking his head, Ben led the way into the garage, setting tools and buckets where they were supposed to go. “So, how’d the show go? Any attendance?”

“Three songs, small crowd. Wednesday nights are hardly busy.”

Tony shrugged, handing Ben another wrench. “So, Danny’s coming home tonight, huh?”

Ben grunted but didn’t otherwise respond, instead continuing to busy himself with the few tools he’d yet to organize.

“Been a while since Dan’s been home. Is Mom gonna cook her famous seafood chowder for dinner?”

Again Tony’s words were met with a grunt, prompting him to fall silent as Ben finished sorting the rest of the tools. While Tony knew better than to push the subject with his father, staying quiet never sat right with him. His brother, Daniel, was visiting home, and their father’s open lack of enthusiasm annoyed him. Would it hurt for Ben to just pretend to be happy for a night?

“Right, I’ll go check on Mom,” Tony said, setting the last tool onto the workbench and heading inside. When he opened the door, Tony was greeted by the warm aroma of melted butter and pancakes from his childhood, and his mother appeared around the corner with a plate almost immediately.

“Oh, Tony! Welcome home!” Mary said, cheerily hugging Tony with one hand while managing to balance the plate in her other. “Sit, sit! And have some pancakes. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“Nope, been waiting for your pancakes, Mom,” he said, sitting and picking up his fork and knife.“You eat yet?”

“I’ll eat in a bit. No, eat, eat, I’ll go get another plate, and—Ben! Ben! Breakfast!”

---

_{Main Street || 11:00 AM}
It was while biking back from the grocery store, a bag of last-minute essentials his mother had requested on hand, that Tony’s phone rang. Pulling over, he checked the screen—Jake—and picked up.

“Hey Jake, what’s up?”

“Tony, my man, I can’t find that bass guitar. You have it with you?”

Tony felt a spike of alarm as his mind rushed through last night’s events. “No, I don’t. I must have—damn it. I must have left it at Redcap.”

“The bar? Tony, bro, that guitar cost me good money. I can’t be losing that thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Tony said, glancing down at the bag he was carrying. It was light enough. “I’ll head to Redcap now. Call you when I find it.”

“Alright, man. I’ll be waiting,” Jake said, hanging up.

Pocketing his phone, Tony swung his bike around, riding back down the street towards last night’s venue. Redcap usually opened in the evening to serve burgers and beer, but maybe he’d get lucky and catch some cook or bartend heading in to prep. His mom needed the ingredients, but they were mostly seasonings, and Jake’s guitar was expensive. Though he’d lent it to Tony for free, Tony didn’t like the thought of losing it since neither of them had a hundred bucks just sitting around. So, priorities in place, to Redcap it was.

Anna woke up late.

Well, actually, it was very early. Just past 6am. But for her, that was much later than she was supposed to be up. The harsh vibration of her phone woke up her up and she became acutely aware that every part of her body hurt, and she was currently on the floor. Chances were that she had been for the entire night. With a groan, Anna attempted to pull herself up, with little success. She dropped back to the floor. Instead of getting up, she just hit the answer button on her phone and then put it on speaker. She could still talk, even if she had one cheek pressed against the floor.

“Anna! Anna, where are you?” came the voice through it. Anna groaned, finally sitting up. It was, pun not intended, a bit of a wake up call. She had work today. Right. “I’ve been calling you for ages! What are you doing?” She checked her phone to see that she did, in fact, have a good fifteen missed calls. Anna groaned again. She wasn’t really bothered.

”Hey, Jas. Yeah, whoops. I’ll come by... later? Soon. Hope that’s cool,” she replied, yawning.

“Right, you get over here as soon as you can. We have tons of customers in the morning and I’ve had to-“ The phone beeped as Anna accidentally hung up. Grumbling, she pulled herself to her feet, taking in her surroundings. She was in her kitchen, taking a nice nap on the floor. Still sore, she dragged herself to get ready, still half asleep. Anna didn’t even stop to question why she was on the floor. She had just accepted it.

Despite being late, she went through her morning routine slower than usual. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have to worry about being ready at a certain time. Or maybe it was because she just didn’t care. It was thirty minutes since the call that she appeared at the shop. ‘Bean & Gone’, the sign read, with an accompanying chalkboard written in Anna’s chicken scratch handwriting with Anna’s horribly sarcastic and unfunny remarks on it. She kicked it, but it stood firm. In fact, she’d hurt her foot.

Now scowling at the board, she walked in, hearing the bell chime as Anna pushed the door. There weren’t too many people in there, thank god.

“Oh, Anna! There you are. Get over here,” and all of a sudden she was being forcefully escorted behind the counter. “I can’t believe you. You’re always late!”

”Always? This is the first time I’ve been late in what, three weeks. That’s ages. You should be congratulating me, really,” Anna replied. She picked up a note on the counter (with Jasmine’s stupid, legible writing), nodded, and busied herself with the drink. Better than listening to what she had to say.

“Three- I’ve never been late in my life! What were you doing!”

Anna thought about it. She thought about why she’d been on the floor. And she remembered falling over the night before, then somehow, it slipped her mind as easily as it had come to it. She was still sore, as a matter of fact, and she stretched her neck a little, wincing.

”Hmm. I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t. Right. Once you’re done with those drinks, or when you take a break, I want you to redo the chalkboard - thank god no one can read that, because I don’t know why you wrote it - and make sure it’s legible. Leg-i-ble. Okay? Good.”

Jasmine, clearly realising she’d been an adequate amount of irritating, turned back to the counter, chattering with the customers and taking their orders. Anna made a grim expression while her back was turned to her. Yes, she understood why she acted like that, but she didn’t really care for it. Just another forty odd years of it and then she could die. Hopefully.

8 o'clock. Today was quieter than usual. Only a few clattering utensils against plates, and muted chatter of the folks who had few things to do on a weekdays morning.

"Yeah, I'll have a cheeseburger, with onion, tomato, dill pickle slices with fries, and uh, what's this, fresh seasonal fruit. Thank you." A man in his forties ordered.

"Cheeseburger with onion, tomato, pickles, fries, seasonal fruit. Okay, sir, it'll be right out." Jennifer, in full waitress mode, responded cheerily and professionally. The cooks were in the kitchen, and Jennifer relayed yet another order. Swiftly a circular tray, adorned with steaks and steaming hot loaves of bread was handed to her. That was table 6. Delicately balancing the tray between the tips of her fingers, Jenny delivered the tray to the elderly couple that had ordered it. "Two stakes, one well done, one medium rare, two sweet teas and dinner rolls."

Alicia walked by, and Jenny gave her a nod. The elderly couple thanked their waitress and Jennifer whisked herself away to another table.

Thirty minutes later, Jenny found herself in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Scanning her outfit up and down. Mawmaw's. Yeah. She could do this for the rest of her life. It was what she was good at. If only she could figure out how to look good in this outfit. Or any outfit. All the clothes she bought seemed either too big or too tight. Why was she so...weirdly shaped? Whatever. Whatever! This was stupid. No time for this now. It was time to get back to work. Back to what she was good at.

---

_{Main Street || 11:15 AM}
Redcap was one of the local bars in Seneca Glen. Being one of the only bars that had both live music and dinner, it was decently popular with both tourists and locals. The problem was that Recap opened at four in the afternoon, and it was currently quarter past eleven in the morning. If Tony was lucky, today was a restock day, which meant Murphy would be in early to oversee inventory delivery. That meant the boss man was in at dawn, which was around when the earliest trucks arrived, and that he’d stay until the early hours of the night when the bar closed, catching a brief break in the afternoon. Tony, then, needed two things: for it to be a restock day, and for it to be a day when Murphy decided to snooze in his office instead of heading home to catch a nap.

“Hey, Murph?” Tony asked, pulling his bike over in front of the bar door and leaning it against the side of the building, his phone and grocery bag in the same hand as he walked over to the door to look in through the glass. “It’s Tony.”

“Tony! What can I do for you? Oh, and great show last night. Regulars loved it, as usual.”

Murphy’s voice was warm and jovial as always, but the lack of noise in the background of the call was pretty disheartening.

“Thanks Murph, and yeah, so, I’m pretty sure I left my guitar in the bar last night. Forgot to stick it into Jake’s car after the show. Any chance I can get into the bar and grab it right now?”

“Oh—oh man. Sorry Tony, I just left the place. On my way home now. Any chance you can get it tonight? I need to let Buster out for the night so he doesn’t piss my place.”

“I can drop by after dinner, probably around seven or eight. Danny’s coming back so I can’t miss it.”

“That’s fine, lemme know. And Danny’s coming back? Bring him around, would you? Been a while since I saw Dan-man.”

“Yeah, I’ll bring ‘im. See ya then, Murph.”

As soon as the call clicked, Tony dialed up Jake again, getting on his bike as he did so. Riding one-handed with a bag of groceries didn’t seem like the best idea, but he’d done worse.

“Yo, Jake, hey. Murph wasn’t in, so I’m getting the guitar after dinner.”

“Yeah, okay, long as you get it. And keep it for the week—get some practice in. Your timing for Nerve is shit, man.”

“But I’m still the best bassist.”

Tony bit back a grin as he waited at a light, watching the cars pass one after another, not a single car breaking rank to turn. On the other side of the phone, he could hear Jake sigh and mutter something, and Tony wondered again whether he could just tell Jake the truth: that high school was years behind them, and so was Tony’s interest in being in some garage rock band. Originally, Tony had seen it as a good way to get his old friends back together, so yeah, he’d even pushed for the idea. Now, though, it felt unnecessary. The bros got together for Friday night football, for Tuesday's bar happy hour, for lots of things other than the band. They weren’t even all in the band—only five people were, and two missed shows all the time, though not together. For Tony, he’d simply grown tired. Playing the bass guitar was cool and all when he was in high school, and yeah it still hooked the odd girl or two after a show, but playing had become a chore. More often than not, their shows were on off days—days when only locals were in town, when only a few people could attend. They simply weren’t big enough to slot the good times, and as much as Tony appreciated the few people that came in, practicing and playing for the same group over and over had lost its edge for him.

Problem was, Tony doubted the group’s friendship would survive it. More than a few friends were loyal to Jake, and Tony got that. Jake’s family was loaded and had started hooking him up with a fat allowance back in high school, which Jake had spent pretty freely back in the day. He was the one who’d pulled the group together, and he’d be one to disband it if anybody could. Trying to quit Jake’s band, which was one of his only passions these days, wouldn’t go over well with Jake. Best case, Jake would snub Tony for a few weeks; worst case, Jake would oust him from the group, and Tony was pretty comfortable with his current life. Whether staying in the band was worth the thankless hours of practice was debatable, but staying was worth keeping Tony’s current life in place.

“Just practice, Tony. Call me when you’ve got the guitar.”

The phone clicked, and Tony slid it back into his pocket just as the light turned green. Now that he had two hands on the handles, Tony wondered whether he’d ever get around to trying a triathlon. Running wasn’t his favorite, but swimming and biking didn’t sound half bad. His current life, though, probably wouldn’t be able to handle the commitment. Between the band and some family obligations, he wasn’t sparing many vacation days or favors to coworkers, after all.

The rest of the bike ride home was pretty fast, and he after he dropped the groceries to his mom he joined his dad in front of the TV to watch football reruns.

“Nice one,” Ben said as the midfielder made a tackle. A can of beer was on the coffee table before him, and Tony briefly wondered how much was left.

“You been keeping up with the season, Tony?” Ben asked, reaching for the can.

“Yeah, mostly. Missed a few games but looked up the score after. We’re doing pretty well this season.”

“Hmph. We’re doing great, you mean. Better than last year, and last last year.”

“Yeah, we’re doing great.”

Ben set the can back down with a light thunk, which said the can was still pretty full. Thank god.

“I watched this game with the boys on Friday, so I’ll go help Mom in the kitchen. She could probably use some help with the lamb.”

“Suit yourself.”

As Tony had suspected, Mary was more than delighted to have an extra set of hands in the kitchen. She had a habit of cooking too much for ‘important meals,’ but Tony appreciated her enthusiasm. At least one person was genuinely happy Danny was coming back to visit.

“Oop, don’t cut yourself!” Mary said, glancing over when Tony picked up the knife to clean the bones on the lamb chops.

Tony laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ve done this before.”