JUST FRIENDS

o5

It would be in the stars for her to cross paths with Shebazz randomly at the local coffee shop.

Odd enough, Brazil almost overslept this morning. If it hadn't been for the little bit of errands she had to run: getting her oil changed, and restocking on groceries, she would've undoubtedly hit the snooze button. But duty called.

Koffé was around the corner from her townhouse and served the best delicacies with their award-winning lattes, frappes and cold brews. It might've been eight-o-clock in the morning now, but it was only the beginning of a prime-time that lasted well into the evening.

Standard of most mornings, it was crowded, hard to make a path to a table without touching shoulders with the next person waiting for their order or talking to a friend. The place used to be for the hipsters. But as with anything hipsters like first, it grew to become the worst thing in their eyes: mainstream. As much as they wanted to, they couldn't abandon the ole café in search of something equally great but more obscure because drinks so good were hard to come by. And their white brick walls were filled with photos of either happy employees or happy customer that could attest, no paid actors required.

Brazil could taste that the workers were passionate about their drink-making which only added to the overall convivial atmosphere. People were bustling about routinely, reciting their order without so much as a pause in between, her included.

"Can I get a raspberry matcha latte, extra matcha with coconut milk instead of dairy poured over light ice? Thank you." Her order never really varied but in scoping the surroundings, she spotted Shebazz seated by the farthest window looking as if he was waiting for someone expectantly. He glanced down at his watch.

Out of all the places, she never expected to bump into him at a café- he just didn't seem like the type to wake up early, let alone grab a coffee. With his face tattoos, dark eyes, brown skin, and pretty but devious smile, he was cute, just not her type. Brazil didn't like a man she could see eye to eye with.

She played with the ends of her hair before scooping it into a bun and straightening her running errands look out: black-framed glasses and a gray hoodie zipped low enough to flaunt her "girls" in their new push-up bra. Like Clark Kent but bad bitch-ified. When she looked in her handheld mirror to check her hair, she blew herself a kiss.

Brasilia chanced another glance at Shebazz who seemed to be tapping away at his phone, agitated.

If I was Maze's boyfriend, she thought, I'd think I want to know just what she had done with her so-called best friend last night.

However.

When she thought twice about it, she owed no loyalty to him. What would be her motivating factor to sit across from him and spill the beans outside of having a general dislike for his girlfriend? It seemed to be too much of an effort, to stick her nose that far in their business.

She really didn't like Maze though, and this could be the perfect opportunity to get back at her; pray on her shaky foundation of a relationship, end all of her cameos in music videos, reclaim her reputation as the Red Room's closer... things could spin in Brazil's favor again.

But how did that even sound? Convince Shebazz to conspire against his own girlfriend? Her stepping to him with such a fucked up agenda could backfire.

Why would she swoop in and save this man she had no interest in from his own girlfriend who treated him more like a pawn? It wasn't like the girl was trying to hide her activities; she was smack in front of the club after all using Blu's lap like a saddle. The news would get back to him if it hadn't already.

Her best bet was probably to stay silent and keep a close eye out on the soap opera unfolding right before her very eyes. Right?

Decisions, decisions.