Apartment 311

Ch | 57

Brooklyn Noelle Brankovich

Chapter Fifty-seven: "Sunrise"

Wednesday night, I paraded around in my black reversible short-sleeved biker romper and adjusted my zipper after almost having a nip-slip more than once.

I shook off one man's comments and walked away with my tray between my arm.

It was an okay night, kind of busy but not overwhelming and packed. The gang was all here; Gael, Noah, Cassie, and myself.
Things seemed to be pretty normal and we had no problem jumping back into work after our mini vacation. Actually, I kind of missed the atmosphere.

"Hey, Nate," I greeted the men as I passed them, "Hey Flynn, Zeke." They all smiled and greeted me back better returning to their conversation.

Approaching the bar, I rolled my aching ankle. I decided to wear boots with a heel tonight - a pair of black pleather platform lace-up booties.

When I leaned back up, my eyes scanned the club as I danced to the music Andre played.
I just so happened to see Noah and Lyric, and they looked awfully close. He made her laugh and then she walked away, her hand sliding down his arm on the way. My face curled but I tried not to jump to conclusions.

Nope, I thought in my head. Nevermind, I'm jumping to conclusions.

Seeing Lyric in the dressing room, I advanced forward and confronted her.

"Hey," I said plainly, looking away while she changed costumes.

"Hi?" She sounded surprised to be speaking with me.

Once she was covered, I turned back to face her.

I cut right to it. "So, Noah's cute," I said.

She scoffed and closed her locker. "Cut the shit, girl, everyone here knows you two are into each other. Relax, even though you got my girl - Venus - fired, none of us are going to snitch."

"Oh," I breathed out, "good."

Lyric faced the full body mirror to adjust her hair. "And anyway," she said, "I wasn't talking to him for me. I was doing a favor for Paris." My eyebrows furrowed, wondering if that was the truth.
Paris, really? Hm.

Lyric walked away and I returned to the floor to get back to doing my job.

*

"Hi, Gail," I sighed, stuffing my tips into the fanny pack around my waist.

"Hey, Harlem. Good night for you?" he asked me.

My shoulders hunched. "It's okay. How's your night?"

"Same," he replied, chewing on minty gum.

I exhaled and watched the club-goers enjoy their moments.

"Gael, how are you? Like, in general? I never ask, we always joke around or talk about Cassie and Noah."

Gael was about to respond when Noah walked up in his all black.

Noah looked between us and Gael said, "That's my cue." They slapped hands and then my eyes followed Gael as he made his way to Cassie at the other end of the bar.

"Hey, girl," Noah smirked, holding up the wall. I just huffed and turned my back to him so I could gather my tray of mixers.

"What's wrong," he asked, catching my facial expression, "you look mad."