Chapter Text
Abby’s a few drinks deep at the bar she’s been frequenting for the last couple months.
Sat on one of the far stools, away from the main commotion, and the arcade area, she decides to people watch. Resting her chin on her palm, she observes the groups of friends, the strangers mingling, and the frenzied arcade gamers.
Her eyes catch on a trio, two of them appear like they are trying to leave, while the third is sloppily clinging onto them.
“Another?” Riley, the bartender, asks.
Pushing her empty glass towards Riley, Abby nods.
“How was your week?” Abby opens a conversation. Her and Riley have a rapport, and she actually likes them. They’re down to earth. Mellow.
“Kind of slow. The weekend seems to be making up for it though.”
Right. She’s got work tomorrow.
If she’s being technical, she has to be in the office in ten hours. Riley slides her drink to her, then has her attention stolen away by a different patron. Without Riley’s distraction, Abby drifts her eyes back to the trio.
The two actively walking out of the bar, leave behind their lone third member. Dropping her chin back into her palm, where she’s got an elbow leaned on the bar top, Abby peers down into her third negroni. Picking out the lemon wedge garnish, she sucks on it, then drops it back into her drink.
For whatever reason, her eyes keep catching on the tall dark stranger who is now actively making eye contact with her. At least she thinks they are making eye contact with her. It’s hard to tell with their wavy fringe hanging in front of their face.
Grinning, the pretty stranger straightens their posture and steps around the bartop, heading in Abby’s direction.
Attempting to make herself busy, Abby grabs her glass and slurps down a large sip, watching over the rim as the stranger nears ever closer. Darting her eyes to a random corner behind the bar, Abby tries to count how many varieties of whiskeys there are.
Her feigned disinterest fails completely.
“Hey handsome. Buy me a drink?”
Handsome?
Facing the inevitable, Abby turns to face said stranger, where they now hover beside her.
Considering how she wants to tackle this, she looks the person up and down, tall, lanky, and slouching. They’re actually kind of beautiful. Probably would be more pretty if they pushed the hair out of their face, but whatever.
“You going to hover over me, or take a seat?”
“Depends. You gonna buy me a drink?”
Leaning her body onto the bar, Abby angles herself more towards the stranger.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I landed a job and have no one to celebrate with.”
Eh, she’ll play along.
“Seemed like you did. Scare them away?” Abby feels kind of far away from her more controlled sober self, but that's why she came here. To get away from that feeling. When she drank she lost some of her social buffers. She’s worked really hard to keep herself in control. So much so that she gets sick of it, and needs breaks. Like tonight.
“Yeesh. You spyin’ on me?” Nonetheless, the person sits beside her on the empty stool. Abby was near certain that her attitude was going to scare them off.
Gulping down the rest of her drink, in her periphery she spots the person flagging Riley down.
“Riley~!”
Huh, so they know Riley too.
After pouring a couple shots, Riley circles over to them. Drifting their gaze between the two of them, they appear like they’re trying to solve a mental puzzle.
“You two know each other?”
“Yeah, she’s buyin’ me a drink. Right?”
Put between Riley and a beautiful stranger, Abby caves.
“Sure, why not.”
“They bothering you, Abby?” Riley checks, a dark pierced, eyebrow raising.
The stranger bolts out of their stool and grabs onto Abby’s shoulders from behind. “I’m behaving! Isn’t that right?”
Typically alarmed by touch, Abby realizes she might be more than lubricated in terms of her alcohol consumption, since she’s so unbothered by this person's dramatic antics. If anything, she finds herself kind of intrigued.
Dropping her head back, which bends her neck at a weird angle, Abby peeks up at them.
“Whiskey cool with you?”
The stranger meets Abby’s backwards gaze, then ambles themself back to the stool beside her. Slamming their open palm against the bartop, they order. “Two shots of whiskey, bartender!”
Abby’s attention catches on their long spindly fingers, and the dark purple nail polish that’s chipping.
Riley checks one more time. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Abby confirms with a lazy wave.
“If you say so. Lee’s harmless enough.”
So that’s their name.
“I don’t know. They look like they could bite at any moment.”
Lee goes quiet, then they start laughing wildly. “And she’s funny!”
Riley steps away to get their shots, coming back in record time.
The two of them each grab their glass. Abby holds hers out, because it’s what people typically do in most media. Lee takes her bait and clinks their glass against hers, some of the liquor splashes out. Tapping hers against the counter once she downs the shot with ease. On her right, Lee coughs and sputters.
“So. You got a job?” Abby recalls, ignoring the overexerted tears prickling Lee’s waterline.
A wide smile overtakes their face. They’ve got the smallest, barely there gap between one of their canine teeth and molar.
Recovered, Lee circles the rim of their shot glass with a chipped finger. “Yes ma’am. Delivery driver for some…” waving a hand in a circle they finish, “...local chain.”
“That so?”
Shrugging, Lee pushes their fringe out of the way. It inevitably falls back over their eyes, but Abby gets a brief glimpse at their eyes. A yellowish brown hazel. Very pretty.
“Enough about me. What pays your bills? Abby.”
“Wow, the recall!” She teases. Fixing her face, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m an accountant.”
“Hot. You wear glasses when you're punching numbers?”
She knows she should be disgusted or annoyed by the blatant flirting, but for whatever reason her face crinkles up and she releases a weird choked laugh. “No? Not usually.”
“Ha! So you do wear glasses?”
“Sometimes.” Abby admits gruffly, suspicious. “When do you start this job anyway? For all I know you’ve had a job for years and are just yanking my chain.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Abby leans back.
Lee lifts their ass off the stool, sticking their tongue out to reach into their back pocket, pulling out a heavily cracked phone. Pressing the side button, it fails to light up.
Nodding once defeated, Lee stuffs the device back into their pocket, and instead reaches for Abby’s wrist still crossed over her chest. Tugging at the wrist with her thin watch, Lee squints their eyes at it.
“Uhh, seven hours.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting rest before your big day?” Abby readjusts her arms back to her chest.
“Probably.” Lee tiredly admits with a lazy smile.
A pause. Pushing their arms out in front of them, Lee shifts around awkwardly.
“But, pretty girls rarely talk to me. Let alone buy me drinks, so I’m kind of milkin’ this.”
Abby sucks her lips into her mouth, trying to hide that they’ve successfully flattered her. Unfurling her arms, she lazily drops her head onto her forearm atop the bar counter, to better look up at Lee.
Mock pouting, Abby teases. “Here I thought I was handsome?”
Lee narrows their eyes at Abby, then mirrors her, resting their head on the countertop. Strands of dark wavy hair fall over their face. Reaching out before she can think better of it, Abby pushes the hair out of the way, only to have it fall right back where it had been.
“You’re pretty handsome. How ‘bout that?” Relenting, Lee tucks the loose hairs behind their ear, staring back into her eyes.
Abby kind of freezes, because Lee is cute. Really cute. Pretty eyes. Pretty hair. Pretty.
Properly drunk, Abby admits honestly. “And you’re pretty.” There’s a flash of something across their face. She can’t place it because one of her contacts chooses that moment to go blurry, which throws her vision out of whack.
The discarded shot glasses above their heads slide away.
“I’m not scraping you two off my bartop. Go home, Lee. You’re going to end up losing that first paycheck on your tab here.”
The two straighten up, at this point Abby’s feeling the effects of her evening of drinks.
“I should probably head out too. Can you close out my tab, Riley?” Abby rolls her head on her neck. Riley nods and steps over to the register, cashing her out. Venturing back over they hand the two of them receipts. Only Abby gets a card back. She so badly wants to peek over at Lee’s receipt, but instead focuses on writing her signature.
She thinks about the other night a lot. It eats up a lot of her free thoughts. Especially now as she walks the two blocks to Triangl from her apartment. It’s cooler tonight, she tightens the thin sweater around her midsection and pushes up her glasses that are sliding down the bridge of her nose.
If Lee has a tab wracking up at the bar, they must go fairly often. Which is odd, since she hasn’t seen them before that night, and she goes fairly often. So tonight, two nights after meeting Lee, Abby secretly hopes they’re there again, however unlikely that occurrence may end up being.
The lazily hung bells above the door jingle as Abby steps in. Feeling, rather than seeing how staticky her hair is, she puts it up in a loose ponytail, finger-combing out her bangs.
Doing a quick once over as she steps further in, Abby’s stomach flutter when her eyes catch on Lee, tucked in a back corner table by the arcade. Trying not to stare, and failing, Abby notices they’re back with those two friends from the other night, and whatever their conversation is about, it doesn’t seem to be going well.
Moving her head forward, she beelines to her usual spot at the bar, taking a seat.
One of the other bartenders is working tonight, but Riley should be clocking in any minute now.
She tries desperately not to drift her gaze over to the back corner, but it just continues to catch back there. Abby can see the peeking of a work collar shirt out of the headhole of Lee’s oversized hoodie. If anything, it seems like the job is still ok, unless this weird vibe is about the job.
Shaking her head, she pulls her phone out and decides to scroll, desperately trying to distract herself from the stranger she knows very little about, and should definitely not be at all invested in as severely as she currently is.
So engrossed in her post work catch up scrolling, Abby misses the shift change.
Riley approaches her, it’s slow aside from Lee and their group and an odd handful of others. “Hey, I’ve got a new cocktail I want to feature next week. Want to guinea pig for me? Free of charge.”
“Sure what is it?”
–
After spending two hours at the bar, four drinks deep, Abby debates if she should finally leave. Standing from her stool, she observes Lee’s friends getting up. Instead of leaving right away, Abby makes her way to the bathroom, if anything just to freshen up before she walks back to her place.
Totally not because she’s pathetically hoping Lee will stay, and she can be nosey.
Fate ends up playing in her face. As she’s fixing her bangs in the mirror above one of the bathroom sinks, Lee waltzes in. She thinks they make eye contact in the mirror, but it’s hard to tell with Lee’s bangs covering their face. Tucking into a stall, Abby decides to vacate, and orders one last beer.
If nothing happens, she’ll at least still have a beer.
Abby’s not foolish. She knows she’s got some level of infatuation aimed in Lee’s direction. She’s always been quick to latch onto someone, whether they wanted her attention or not. Most times, her little crushes got her attention regardless. That is until they ignored her, lashed out at her for her clinginess, or, one of her favorite methods she experienced, was a hand written letter of rejection back in middle school.
Unfortunately, she’s now halfway through her twenties, so her pathetic co-dependency urges need to see a shift if she wants to actually find some type of life partner worth their salt, and worth her time.
“Can I have whatever’s on tap? I’ll close my tab after that.” Abby asks Riley as they float by.
Eyes set forward, looking across the bar, waiting for her beer, she notices a dark flash of purple in her periphery.
“Make that two.” Lee requests, their tone flat. They slink into the stool beside Abby. Lee’s missing that annoying charm in their voice that had sparked her intrigue the other night.
Unable to help herself, Abby watches Riley as they pour. “Rough few days?” She asks, not putting her full attention on Lee quite yet.
“Something like that.” Lee answers vaguely.
Riley brings them their beers, along with Abby’s card and receipt. Signing her receipt, Abby adds, “care to expand?”
“Landlord’s kickin’ me out.” Lee takes a big swig of their beer.
Pushing the receipt and pen towards Riley, Abby gives Lee her attention.
“Why’s that?”
“Their kid is moving back in town and needs a place. Or whatever.”
Abby takes a breath as she gears up for what’s apparently an obvious question, because Lee beats her to the punch.
“Yes, in this case it’s legal. The guy cut me a break when I needed one, and in exchange I never signed a contract.”
“That was stupid.” Abby slips before she can filter the thought. “Sorry. That was mean.”
Lee’s quiet, but doesn’t leave. Which is a small victory in itself.
“When do you have to vacate?”
“I have to be gone by this weekend.”
“Woah.” Abby commiserates.
“Yup.”
Gesturing at the door, Abby goes on. “What about those friends of yours?”
Lee turns to her, and tilts their head. “Leah and Doug?” Barking out a harsh laugh, they shake their head. “I cannot live with them again. I just left.”
There her thoughts go, getting all loose, stupid, and considering.
“How much are you paying right now?”
“Four hundred a month.”
What the fuck? That’s crazy cheap.
“What the fuck?”
“Did you miss the part about the guy giving me a break?”
“Not much of a break if he’s giving you the boot.”
Shrugging tiredly, Abby re-routes as she thinks. “How’s the new job?”
“It’s money.”
Abby’s quiet. She takes a few sips of her beer, staring at where the foam rings in her glass have imprinted.
“Do you have a phone?”
“In a sense.” Leaning into Abby’s space, Lee tries to give her a flirtatious smile, but it flops. Abby can tell, because the sentiment fails to reach their eyes. Or what’s visible of their eyes. “Why? You comin’ on to me?”
Maybe?
No. Definitely not. She’s just making an offer to someone in need.
Here goes.
“I live in a one bedroom, a couple blocks from here.” She begins, holding the glass in her hands so she can keep them busy and not fidget. “I’ve got a couch.”
“I’m not trying to couch surf. I’ve done my time.”
“Okayyy.” Abby drones. “What if you paid me what you were giving your old landlord? I’ll even…add you to my lease agreement?”
Woah, that was a crazy thing to say to someone on your second interaction.
“Actually maybe not that. But, ugh, never mind.” Abby can feel her face flushing.
Lee slides their phone towards Abby’s glass.
“If you’re being serious. I might consider your offer. Until I get some money saved up.”
Shit. Now she’s done it. She’s got their hopes up. She can’t squander them now and go back on her word. Fuck.
Picking up the cracked and battered phone, she enters in her name and number into the open contact page.
“You’d really consider the offer from a glorified stranger?”
“Not a stranger if I know your name.” Lee leans a little more into her space, tucking their phone into a back pocket. “‘Sides, maybe I just really want to live with a pretty accountant.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Oh, for sure.” Lee smiles. This time the sentiment reaches their eyes.
Abby’s on edge the rest of the week.
Thursday night, she goes to the climbing gym she belongs to in order to take her mind off her notification-less phone.
Climbing takes some of the edge off. She would prefer to explore abandoned buildings, but that was a weekend only activity for her.
Friday passes quietly, she falls asleep early that night. Saturday she gets some grocery shopping and generally tidying done. So when Sunday rolls around, she has all day to enjoy the building she mapped out last week.
Her mood is lifted, and she is pleasantly distracted from the fact Lee hadn’t taken her up on her offer. She should be happy. It means that Lee’s found somewhere to stay more permanently.
Yet, she still is…sad? Maybe not sad. Empty? No.
Disappointed.
Abby’s disappointed that Lee didn’t choose to lean on her. That’s what this is.
She’d get over it in a few days and be pleasant at Riley’s bar if she ever runs into Lee again. She can be normal. It’s fine.
Turning off her camera, Abby crouches down. The crunch of gravel and dust in the abandoned strip mall’s former entry way kicks up from her descent. Waving the particles out of her face, she re-ties her shoes before heading back to the bus stop a distance away from the site.
As she’s making the trek from the building, the breast pocket of her urbexxing vest starts to vibrate. Abby ventures through the short forested path from the building to the bus stop that she got dropped off at. Yanking a glove off, she reaches into her breast pocket. She uses a tree branch to stabilize herself on the uneven ground. The number is one she doesn’t recognize.
She lets it ring.
After a few seconds the call ends. A solid twenty seconds pass. The same number is calling again. This time she answers.
“Hello?” She croaks, checking her immediate vicinity in case this was the beginning of her own personal horror movie.
“Abigail Brooks? Really? Ok, little miss full legal name.”
“Lee?”
“Who else would it be? Ya given’ your number out to other pretty strangers?”
Stepping over tree roots, Abby can see the bus stop through the trees.
“What’s up?” Ignoring their obvious jab, Abby changes the subject.
“Er, well. Not sure if you remember the other night, and that stuff you said about me living with you?”
Her heart drops into her stomach.
There’s no way.
Lee continues, a haggard heavy sigh audible on their end. “This is really shitty, but my plan A and plan B both failed.”
“I’ll text you my address. I should be back…” pulling her phone away from her ear, she glances at the upper left corner of her screen, “...in like an hour. Will that work?”
“Sure.” Lee hangs up. It jarring how quickly such a life altering conversation happened.
Now leaning against the covered bus stop, Abby taps her foot anxiously. She’s going to have to frantically move shit around her place when she gets home to make room for whatever Lee’s got.
Why did she offer? Why did she agree? This is a huge, massive, insurmountable mistake!
Ignoring all the alarm bells blaring in her mind, she frantically texts the number Lee called from and adds them to her contacts.
The bright lights from the approaching bus headlights make her squint her eyes, as she pulls out her transit card.
Sat by a window, Abby catches her reflection smiling goofily. If anything she should be terrified, worried, attempting to cancel whatever is happening; but for once in her life, she’s tingly with the promise of the unknown. That, and she’s kind of giddy to have a roommate.