" i swear , how can i somehow be related to every single person in this entire goddamn town ? this town is literally so small there isn't even a mcdonald's ! "
in which the residents of storybrooke receive more than what they bargained for when th...
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NEW YORK HAD NEVER BEEN QUIET. Not in all the many years she had lived there. There was always something calling attention to itself. Taxi's honking for no reason in particular. Street vendors yelling out about food that the passerby's were going to buy anyway. A man yelling into an earpiece just so the whole street understood, 'ah yes, he's a douchebag'. Heels clicking without falling into cracks. A couple whispering romatic nothings and another one whispering insults under carefully hidden smiles. It was such a loud city, such a busy one too. Yet, it was the times when noise was the highest that the people crowding the streets seemed to feel the most alone.
Boots nimbly sneaked back and forward, around puddles and the occasional cigarette butt that seemed to be getting less and less occasional. Carefully balancing the several bags of groceries on straining arms, a neck was stretched just above the heads of those in front of her. Taking a deep breath in, unfortunately inhaling smoke and a few other unnamed substances, she picked up her pace to the nearest vendor.
Cursing under her breath as another suited man seemed to go out of his way crashing into the sheer bag carrying a carton of eggs, she shot yet another dirty look before pulling her arms closer into her body. She absentmindedly wished her hands were not so full so she could carefully snatch what seemed to be a full wallet from his right pocket. Gracefully pulling out of the way of the small child who ran far too fast for the slick nature of the pavement she thanked her lucky stars for the hotdog cart that seemed a lot closer to her than it did a few seconds ago.
She blindly reached backwards to grab cash from her back pocket and engaged in a few forgettable words about the weather to the vendor who merely grumbled in reply. No-one seemed to like the rain that much, but he had likely been standing out here for hours. She gratefully snatched the warm meal from his gnarled hands and bit off as much as she could. Making gasping noises and fanning at her mouth, she swallowed half of her lunch whole.
As she turned to quickly shove the rest in her mouth and throw the accompanied napkin in the bin, she tripped over a wooden cane. She went sprawling onto the ground. Her grocery bags fanned around her with a loud smack. That only solidified her belief that the eggs had finally been smashed after all of her careful manouvering. She waged a one second war in her head about the merits of making the ground her new home before pushing herself back up onto her knees and standing. Her knees already started to sting, likely meaning that some skin had been scraped from them and her hands vaguely hurt from where she had caught herself. Grumbling a few colourful phrases, she smoothed her hair and picked the bags back up, before she turned with the intention to violently reprimand who had caused her unlikely greeting with the floor.
Her plans were mostly ruined when she was met with the face of a little kid.
"Sorry! Are you okay? I can help you with your bags," the boy nervously rambled while trying to take about four of her bags from her arms.
"Ah, no, no! Don't worry about it, kid, I'm pretty sure I can handle it." She managed a tight smile, her anger slightly disspiating at the sight of the very apologtic little boy.
"Really? 'Cause it's no trouble, my mum's not going to be back for a while so I can help you carry them."
"I wouldn't worry, some exercise is good for me," she said, giving a small chuckle at the young boy, her amusement only furthered by the very cartoon character-esque scarf lying on his shoulders, "I need to get home soon anyway, my dad's probably wondering where I am. I hope you enjoy your hotdog, though!"
After making sure she was definitely okay for a second time, he gave her a very polite and cheery thank you. She nodded and turned leave only to bump into a shoulder covered in very old, dirty material. Upon running into each other a small bolt of what felt like electricity forced them both apart. Lightly jumping back she was met with the sight of a much older man holding a cane, appearing to be the real culprit of her injury.
He carefully narrowed his gaze at her, "You should watch where you're going next time."
She scoffed and imperceptibly leaned away from him, "Given you're the one who made me fall, I don't think you can talk, old man."
She angrily pushed her hair behind her shoulder and walked further towards the small bakery she had spotted earlier. Violenting muttering about how the elderly shouldn't be allowed on the streets of New York, she almost entirely forgot about the bolt of electricity caused between contact of the two of them. The acknowledgement of one powerful magic coming into contact with another.
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In every way that New York was loud, her apartment was quiet. Well, the whole apartment complex was quiet, really. She didn't like that. At least, even when New York was loud and stifling and overwhelming, the noise managed to keep her thoughts away. She didn't like thinking, she never had. Thinking lead to overthinking which lead to emotions that she would prefer to keep supressed until she was in her mid to late forties when she would be in the right age bracket to have a midlife crisis. Then she could dye her hair and blow all her money on a ridiculous holiday and when she comes back she can talk to a therapist about all her issues.
Her dislike of thinking is what causes her to rattle the gate into the apartment complex. To slam her boots on the stairs, which also allowed the mud and rain to fall off the shiny black shoes. She rustled the bags around and made obnoxious chewing sounds as she finished off the scroll in her hands. She jangled her key around as she slotted it into the keyhole of her apartment. She clomped her boots as she turned around and pushed the door open with her elbow. She made the bags shake and clank together as she picked them up from where she had carefully placed them down.
Her long curtain of hair falling down past the ear she had tucked it behind only made it more difficult to place the groceries down on the bench. As she finally stopped to take a breath, she heard the sounds of a person from behind her and silently cursed whomever had brought this action on early. She adamantly refused to turn and look at him so she busied her hands putting away the groceries she had bought earlier.
"I know that neither of us want to talk about this, and, god, I truly wish we never had to but we have to address this sooner or later," she chucked the whole carton of eggs in the bin with a sigh as she quickly searched for her next words.
"I honestly don't think I can ever forgive you and to be completely fair, I don't think that it's my job to do so. In two years I'll legally be allowed to move out on my own and I will do so immediately but, until then we need to have an agreement. You are still technically my father, Neal, no matter how little either of us wants to admit it and legally I am your responsibility. However, I am completely okay with us having our seperate lives and just living in the apartment together. We don't have to talk or know anything about each other and by the time I turn 18 I will be able to live out on my own."
With those finishing words she had put the last of the bags away and mentally braced herself as she turned around. Just to be met with the sight of three people instead of one: her father, the rude man from earlier and a blonde woman that she had been dreaming of for over a decade.
It seemed the air was taken from all members of the room as she took an immediate step back with her hands raised up as a shield to defend herself. Her scared eyes seem to be reflected by the two other members of the room who shared every single other one of her attributes.
"Lottie?" The blonde stepped forward with glassy eyes. "Neal, what the hell is going on?"
Those words seemed to snap the redhead back to life.
And with that, Charlotte Cassidy jumped out of the fire escape.
