1 / the show

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For one of the only joints in town, Raven was pretty quiet for a Friday evening at the end of July with never more than a handful of people hanging out at the bar, but Bree wasn't complaining as she perched on a stool and sipped her third drink. There were a couple of empty booths in the corner but she wasn't a fan of hiding away, preferring to sit up at the bar with a glass in her hand and one eye on the bartender.

His tag was worn, the letters almost completely rubbed off, but Bree hardly needed it to remember his name after knowing him for as long as she had: she and Nick had clicked the instant he had become her neighbour seven years ago, and hardly a day had gone by that she hadn't seen him since.

She idly watched him as she sipped her drink, her eyes not focused on his face, and he gave her a look with his head cocked to one side.

"You checking me out?" he asked with a wink and a chuckle, puffing out his chest like a peacock.

Bree snorted and rolled her eyes. "If you want," she said, and she made a show of running her eyes over his apron-clad body. It was impossible to take him seriously: he had been her best friend and wingman for too long now, any hint of attraction a distant memory.

Nick laughed again. "I think you're forgetting that I have a fiancée," he said, wiping down a spotless counter in order to look busy, though there was nothing to do.

"How could I forget? You've been saying that for, like, four years." Bree drained her drink and held the empty glass on her knee, and Nick rested his elbows on the counter.

"Well, I've got news for you," he said, a cheeky grin forming. "That's because I've been engaged for four years."

She gave him a fond smile and patted his hand. The length of his engagement to another of her best friends had been the butt of many of Bree's jokes over the years, and now she was convinced that they would never tie the knot. She and her flatmate, Gaia, had even made bets on it in the past: Bree had made at least sixty pounds that way.

Her smile faded as her mind drifted to places she tried not to think about, but that was easier said than done. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, a slideshow played in her mind and left her with a melancholy tinge in her vision. Nick watched her for a moment before he reached out to her.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft. She didn't move, but she lifted her eyes to his. "You look like you're a mile away. You ok?"

"Yup," she said, but he didn't seem convinced.

"Melody?" he asked, and hearing the name was like trying to swallow with a dry mouth. She gave him a tight smile and he sighed. There was nothing he could say though, and nothing that Bree wanted him to say.

Several seconds passed before Nick took the empty glass out of her hand and held it up with a question mark above his eyes as he headed over to the vodka. "Can I get you another?"

Bree wrinkled her nose and took her phone out of her bag, checking the screen twice before the time registered in her brain. Ten past nine. "What time do you finish today?"

"One," he said. "You staying for a lift?"

Ordinarily, she would happily hang out for a few more hours, chatting with Nick about everything that crossed her mind while he tried to set her up with whoever walked through the door, but a yawn was building in her throat and she needed an early night. "Nah," she said. "Gotta be up bright and early tomorrow."

Nick frowned. "On a Saturday?" He knew her well, familiar with her love of a lie-in.

"Family brunch."

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