Four strangers from different walks of life meet on a cruise and spend an unforgettable week together. All of them on their own self-discovering journeys, and onboard for different reasons.
Texan heiress and ballet prodigy, Brooklyn Brankovich, lon...
It was hard enough to sleep without Brooklyn for a few nights, then I stayed awake and watched her frequent Snapchat story updates. Seemed like she was having the time of her life, drinking with her "brother" and that guy. I didn't even get his name, he's just forgettable. Ned, I think? I hadn't spent much time with them because she was busy being a good host and I was breaking my back to spread the word about Venus's business.
I know Daniel's just visiting for a couple weeks so I should let Brooklyn catch up with him and support it without trying to steal the spotlight.
In fact, I should take the time to get to know Daniel myself.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I knocked on door 311 the next morning and waited for Brooklyn to answer. Instead, Ned opened it. He looked like a mess, glitter all over his face, one sock on, and a hole in it. Looking past his appearance, I smelled buttermilk pancakes or waffles - probably waffles knowing Brooklyn - and cappuccinos.
"You gonna let me in, or?" I spoke, breaking the ice. Ned shook his head, snapping out of it, and backed up so I could enter finally.
My eyes scanned the floors and walls as I walked through the hallway. "The fuck happened in here?" I asked aloud but meant it for myself.
Ned laughed and resurfaced from hitting his bong. "You're smoking in here?" I questioned, whipping my neck to see him choking.
"Dude, did we meet? I'm Ned, call me Nuddy," he stuck his hand out.
I cut my eyes from him and said, "What's up, Ned?"
"Well, do you always come creeping around here in the morning? Should Ned and I wake up after noon?" Daniel spoke, walking up behind me. He tied his robe and checked the waffle maker once the 'ready' lit up.
"Waffles?" I stepped over the pile of clothes on the floor and reached in the fridge for a water bottle.
"Yeah, Brooklyn's recipe. Although, it's really not a big secret, it's nothing special," he talked, "just-"
I interjected. "Brown sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon. Yeah, I know. She told me. Where is she? She hungover?"
Daniel sipped his cappuccino and nodded his head towards the master bedroom.
I pushed off the counter and made my way there.
The door opened and I remained in the doorway until I gathered it was safe to go in.
