The Story of Chloe Burbank

Chapter 1: Cops 'N' Ramen

Joji lazily opened his eyes and looked at the small electric alarm clock on his nightstand.
3:42.
Nice.
He rubbed his eyes and immediately felt his arms ache. He winced and groaned. He felt groggy, and dirty-even though he was completely clean-and tired-even though he had more than twelve hours of sleep. He was always like this after a video with his boys. "After vid hangover" Chloe called it. The name stuck.

Bruises were already starting to form all over his body; tiny, purple, egg sized blotches. He pulled himself up, having to use the nightstand to heave himself onto his achey feet. He brushed his teeth, pissed, washed his face, and put on some sweats and his Harvard hoodie.  His phone buzzed.  It was a text.

Chloe: I'm gonna fucking hang myself man, how can that dude aim so well wITH A BAG OVER HIS HEAD?!?! I'm dead and gone there is no Chloe only Zuul

Joji smirked.

Joji: WELL GOOD MORNING SLEEPING BEAUTY!!! Need a noose, you can borrow mine when I'm finished with it? And yeah How To Basics a fuckin beast man.

Chloe: I woke up 10 mins. ago and I am already in immense pain. Also I cant believe you just said "beast" what are you a 12 year old Monster Energy addict?

Joji: Same. And hey fuck you mang

He pored himself a bowl of off-brand Lucky Charms he found at Family Mart, plopped on the couch and scrolled through the TV channels. The Apartment was small, but it was homey. Comfortable. The door lead straight into the openness of it all. The kitchen and living room were only separated by an island bar, his room behind and to the right the living room, and extra bathroom on the left of the living room. There was a small balcony beside the living room. Nothing but a table, two chairs and an overflowing ash tray.

Joji stopped scrolling, a grin spreading across his face.

Joji: Cops marathon tonight. Be at my place at 5???

Chloe: ....man...you see I'd love to and all but I don't think I can move :')

Joji: Oh come on Chlo, Cops is our thiiiiing. Plus I'm already wearing the hoodie. Destiny, babe.....plus, you know...after vid hangover is easier to get over with you here... you make me feel better...

Chloe: Gay ass :') okay I'll get my POOR BROKEN SELF OUT OF THIS SOFT WARM COMFORTABLE BED TO COME AND SEE YOU.

Joji: yes, me, the love of your life

Chloe: heheheh mAYBE-starts at 6?

Joji: You know it! What kind of Ramen you want?

Chloe: I'm feelin Shrimp. See you in a few!
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There was a knock at the door.
Upside to a small apartment: sound carries.
"It's open!" Joji shouted from his room.  He heard the door bust open and couldn't hold back a grin. That was one of her things. Chloe always kicked the door open once she clicked the handle.
He emerged before the door closed, arms full of blankets and pillows. He dropped them near the couch and jumped over the back, landing on his back on the cushions. Chloe practically dropped herself on top of him. With her head on his chest she mumbled,"I could go to sleep right now..." Joji ran his hand along her back. She picked up her head and he leaned up to kiss her. Both pairs of lips smiled as they did. Chloe struggled, but eventually got herself into a sitting up position, leaning against his kicked up legs.

"Okay hoe-tard, let's get this shit show on the road." She smiled.
"Well you gotta get off me first, you Big dweeb," he giggles.
Chloe tumbled off him.
Joji walked to the kitchen as Chloe stood up. They had done this same thing so often, it had become routine. Joji made the food, and Chloe would make the place a comfy place to sit for six to twelve hours.

"Did you look at the Groupchat at all today?" Chloe called, tucking a sheet into the cushions of the couch.
"No, what's up?"
"Remember that nasty cut Max had in his foot?"
"Oh no..." Joji answered, putting the water on the stove to boil.
"Well it got infected. Super fucking gross! He sent a picture,"
Joji could hear her tumble off the couch and into the kitchen. Only now in the burnt out fluorescent lights did he actually take a look at her. She was wearing black leggings, mismatch fuzzy socks, and her Yale hoodie. Another part of the Tradition.
Joji and Chloe, the two dumbest motherfuckers on the block, wearing sweatshirts from two Ivy League Schools.
The irony was irresistible.
She wore her hair up in such a disaster he couldn't tell if it was a pony tail or a bun. She never wore makeup, but she didn't really need to. Her freckles were his favorite feature. She wasn't stunningly gorgeous, but she was far from ugly. And so was he. They both had a unique vibe to them, and that's what really made them attractive.

"Look!" She said, holding up her phone.
"Oh my god that's sick! He's gonna have to cut that foot off." He laughed.  Chloe giggled and walked back into the living room.
Joji stirred the noodles.
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This is how they spent half their time together; Chloe wrapped in blankets, leaning on one side of the couch, Joji leaning on the other side, their legs spread out in the middle. Eating their shitty Family Mart noodles and watching Cops to remind themselves that there were people that were scummier than they were. Smoking together outside on the balcony during commercial breaks. It wasn't glamorous, but it was comfortable.
To the two of them, it was perfect.

They passed out around 1:00 a.m. The TV was still on, the balcony door open, letting the cold Brooklyn air in. Joji held Chloe tight. They fell asleep to the sound of a Coke dealer getting pummeled to the ground.