𝟢𝟫. 𝖥𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖭𝖣𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝖫𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖫 𝟥

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09.
FRIENDSHIP LEVEL 3
( REAL LIFE )




          IF YOU WERE TO SAY Ambar is nervous, it would be an understatement

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          IF YOU WERE TO SAY Ambar is nervous, it would be an understatement. She's leaning on the counter, staring at the door of Novak's diner with anxious eyes. Her hands are trembling, and her friends' jokes to try and ease her anxiety go in from one ear and out the other. The mere idea of seeing Louis and Millie later and being actually expected to talk to them as in... a long conversation has the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge, and she's been restless ever since her shift started an hour ago.

          Rhy and Sienna are both off serving tables, and Jasmine is making a smoothie beside her. Ambar is cleared for a bit, because none of her tables have called her and there are no new customers to attend to, so she simply sits and bites her nails to the bone—metaphorically, of course, because she doesn't bite her nails.

          "What if I say something dumb and embarrass myself?" She asks Jasmine. "Oh my God, even worse, what if Rhy embarrasses me?"

          Jasmine laughs. "How is Rhy embarrassing you worse than you embarrassing yourself?"

          "Because I'd like, trip or something, but Rhy would say something completely out of place because he can't read the room ever!" Ambar whines, using her shaking hands to rearrange the straws by color. She's been doing useless things every second she has free, because she found that she needs something to take her mind off of Louis and his pretty eyes and—

          And, yeah, it's hard.

          While Ambar continues whining about her nerves, Rhy comes back from serving a table with a smile, and he shows off cash to the two girls with a wink. "I got tipped for being pretty."

          "They paid you so you'd leave them alone," Jasmine deadpans. She grabs the purple straw Ambar had been about to place on the container before grabbing a tray. "And I am gonna go get tipped for being pretty, now."

          Rhy pulls a face as she leaves. "She's so mean to me."

          "Rhy, I think I'm gonna die," Ambar says, no context added. Rhy furrows his eyebrows.

          "Die, or die die?"

          "Both. Die die die." She looks at him with her usual puppy eyes, those that she can't help but make when she's feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so anxious."

          "About Louis and Millie?" He asks, then scoffs. "It'll be fine. It's not like you're meeting a famous per—I mean, it's not like you haven't talked before?"

          He says it more like a question than reassurance, and Ambar appreciates the way he tries to help soothe her nervousness, but Rhy has always been known for having the emotional range of a teaspoon, and he's better with jokes than he is with emotions—both his and other people's—so he fumbles over his words when trying to be supportive. Still, his mere presence brings calm over Ambar's senses; he's always had that about him, his calming presence. With Rhy, everything is better. Her hands stop shaking as hard.

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