Across the Brooklyn Bridge

2

8:12 AM - 15th February 2015

ONE SHOULD NOT ATTEND even the end of the world without a good breakfast. Robert A. Heinlein could have been directly speaking to Jules, if it weren't for the universe's choice of unfortunate timing. But still, she really couldn't agree more. Hence, why the aroma of fresh waffles before nine o'clock is as heavenly to Jules as a treasure is to a poor man. She assured herself that after last nights venture, she was in dire need of some emotional reassurance. Perhaps in the form of mouth-watering breakfast waffles.

Jules wanders into the apartment's kitchen, inhaling the divine smell, whilst tossing her curling coffee-coloured hair into a disorderly bun. Her bare feet thud against the wooden flooring, speechlessly announcing her presence to whoever happens to be a morning person. That, detail, on its own, eliminates the majority of roommates, all of them, to be realistic. 

Neither Arielle nor Sutton would voluntarily sacrifice their sleep for a simple waffle. Remy, on the other hand, would require a significant bribe to drag him out of his bed. Jules hadn't caught sight of her third roommate in over a week, but Remy is a little bit of a nomad. He has to be, to elude his schedule of prying women. That ranges from the occasional Genevieve, to sometimes Ramona and to oddly frequent, Billie. Remy doesn't fall deficient of female presence in his daily routine.

Thus, why Jules bears a look of insouciance when she perceives a pretty, dark-headed girl performing magic with the waffle machine.

"Good morning, Billie," Jules mumbles. The girl with the lengthy pitch-black dreadlocks swivels around with a content smile on her lips. The two share complementing lifestyles as Billie is a recognised model and Jules happens to know her way around entertainment firms.

"Was that your Barbie toothbrush that I saw in the bathroom cup holder?" Jules slips onto a bar stool, leaving the marble counter as the only division between Billie and herself. She carries a teasing grin when alluding to the unfamiliar object on the apartment's bathroom. Remy, as Jules has figured out, likes to keep an emotional detachment from his casual relationships. Regardless, Billie seems to have provoked a crack in Remy's impassive demeanour.

"What can I say, someone likes my company," she laughs and struggles to prevent her own gleaming cheerfulness. Billie sweeps up a plate of numerous waffles and places it before Julianne's nose.

"Would it be weird if I asked you to move in?" as Jules sinks her teeth in the delicious nutriments, she moans, proceeding to cast Billie a desperate look of wit. She's a better contribution to the apartment's provisions than all three roommates combined. The creaking sound of the timber floor reveals the attendance of one of such roommates.

"Morning," Remy wanders into the kitchen, a guise of somnolence written across his features. Somebody didn't get any sleep last night. Jules silently watches the exchange unravel before her whilst she munches on her flavoursome breakfast. Remy, apathetic as he his, shockingly presses a firm kiss to Billie's lips in an affectionate manner. Jules her eyebrows almost sky rocket to meet her hair line, but she withholds from any deriding remarks. She does, however, toss Remy a look of unadulterated amusement.

"I'm going to go ahead and get dressed, then head out. I'd love for you to join me, Jules. There's a casting at Fox at eleven and I've heard Martin is quite fond of you," with an inventory of influential contacts, Billie isn't merely an available model in New York. She works alongside fashion's most prime figures and participates actively in the casting of fellow models. With that said, Martin Wiley, also associated with GQ, has taken a liking to Julianne's tendency of brutal honesty. She's certainly not afraid to voice her opinion.