The Other Roommate

Cheaters suck. Sometimes they ravenously suck lips, too, while their hands rake all over their definitely-not-significant-other’s hair as they drag them closer with that insatiable hunger. Their quest aided by their legs that are conveniently around said not-significant-other’s hips, whose pants may have been plunged down to their knees. And for some strange reason, they’d be situated atop the most creative and unconventional seats. As for the cherry atop the bitter cake, it would be the significant other walking in on such unfaithful act. And yes, that would be Alex. “The crate is reserved for oranges, not for cheating bitches.” Alex gritted, informative and strangely catatonic as she leaned against the door frame of the walk-in cooler with her arms crossed and blazing green eyes aimed at her blonde girlfriend. “It’ll spoil them like what you’re doing to our relationship.” It was two fifteen in the morning, at the end of a very long shift, and Alex just had no energy to expel for arguing. Although, biting a slew of sarcastic remarks was fun, too. Alex could applaud herself for telling her temper shoo because nothing was better than looking like her discovery didn’t affect her at all even if pain was destroying her from the inside. But when envisioning the end of her relationship, Alex would have never foreseen the image her eyes were unfortunately viewing. She wasn’t dreaming when she noticed hips gyrating, creating desperate friction in their nether regions like thirsty animals she secretly wanted to murder. And frankly, the fog they were creating in the thirty-six-degree interior was disgusting, and unsanitary. They were going to be hung by the FDA if word was to spill from the confines of that cooler of the club where Alex worked as a bartender and the two canoodling waiters. In her supposed realistic visions, her girlfriend would have left her because of an argument courtesy of her stubbornness and sharp, tactless tongue. She thought one of them would miss an anniversary or had too much to drink that they ended up sleeping all day the next day and forgot about a date they’d been looking forward to. It’d be something stupid with pride shoved in every nook and cranny that neither would want to swallow, really; something realistic. In other words, she never thought her relationship would go down the drain because her girlfriend of nearly two years would cheat on her – in the walk-in cooler she was supposed to clean, no less. But maybe that was where she was wrong. She was expecting a break-up, and she wasn’t supposed to. Although, Alex would be lying if she denied having doubted that Felicity molded well in her life – especially the last few months. They’d been fighting and Felicity had been less than warm, which all made sense then. “Alex!” The blonde perched on two stacks of red crates exclaimed. She pushed the man away – like a wrapper of some candy she had enjoyed, and found no use of him afterwards. Hazel eyes marred with fear while her typically low, modulated voice – that Alex loved – was raised up high, conveying her panic. Her hands were doing quick work of realigning her black dress shirt and slacks but she left her blood red tie undone. “I can explain!” “No need. Cheating isn’t rocket science, my dear.” Alex waved her off, appearing unfazed and indifferent despite the knife that was twisting in her chest. As far as she was concerned, pain shouldn’t reflect in her glistening green eyes and she would sell her act by leaning her head against the door frame oh, so casually. No way in hell was she going to cry. At least, not in front of the unfaithful because, scoff, she was not going to give her that satisfaction. Someone once told her that cheaters were not worth her tears but she might just spill her eyes out for her sake…later, that is. It would hurt to bottle everything up and her heart was already full of resentments courtesy of her family, who were supposed to love her regardless of who she was and what she chose to do with her life. Twenty five years was a lot of baggage to handle. Alex wasn’t sure she had any space for more, even for Felicity Meade, the woman she’d given her heart to even if her self-proclaimed ‘cousin-in-law’ and roommate, Denise, had warned her from the very beginning. But Alex was stubborn, and maybe too trusting or just too thirsty for love that she’d overlooked all those threatening little details about the woman. Then again, maybe she was just drawn to her beautiful face and alluring hazel eyes. And Alex was not going to forget about that mouthwatering body. It was a lethal attraction, and Alex was bleeding to death. But how was she going to tell Denise she was right all along? And how was going to do it without bawling her eyes out? More importantly, how in the world was she going to hold that woman back if she decided to rearrange Felicity’s face? Alex knew how physically strong Denise was and how she was no match for that woman. Oddly enough, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop her this time. “It’s not what it looks like!” Felicity exclaimed with palpable desperation that she was beginning to sound like she was imploring more than declaring. The light in her eyes gave away the fact that she did not even believe herself but she was desperate to save what they had. The damn sentence almost always meant it definitely is what it looks like. “I’ve heard that before.” Alex shot her down with that eerie smile, which was a miracle in itself as her chest was steadily getting heavier, pushing her shoulders down to follow her sunken heart. She tapped her index finger on her chin as if to appear thoughtful and circled it around the pair. “Speaking of words I’ve heard before, doing it in the chiller where we keep food is unsanitary. You just took filthy to a-whole-nother level. Congratulations, by the way!” “Alex,” The cheating b***h implored, taking a cautious step towards Alex. Someone’s throat was cleared, very obnoxiously before Alex could lift up a hand to discourage her ex-girlfriend’s advances. Alex wasn’t sure if that was supposed to attract her attention or not, but it did. Seething green eyes were quick to flit towards the unwanted third-wheel, who could very well be the other wheel to Felicity’s unfaithful bicycle after Alex was done saying her piece. The moment her eyes landed on him, the man had somehow ducked his head as if a weapon was wielded towards him. If he knew what was best for him, he should have kept his mouth shut…or throat quiet, for the matter. His loud breaths alone were beginning to irritate Alex. Hell, his blinking wasn’t doing him any good. Up until that point, Alex hadn’t even spared a glance at the guy in the fear of comparison, which wasn’t necessarily the reason, per se. She didn’t want to inspect their similarities and differences and find herself at a disadvantage, to find herself as the lesser contender. Not that she was competing for a cheating woman but for the sake of the argument, sure. Alex fought to keep a stoic expression apart from the sharp glare she’d sent him with those knee-weakening eyes of hers and steadily studied him. She dragged her gaze from his disheveled light brown hair glowing against the radiance of the lighting fixture above, the red tie looped around his neck was undone while his black button down wasn’t buttoned anymore as well as those slacks that he had just managed to pull up, forgoing his belt that was awkwardly flapping like a boneless limb with his every movement. And where that hell was his apron? Oh, there it was; on the metal floor, along with Alex’s shattered heart. Already she deemed his light eyes ordinary, his nose and full lips average – nothing special. She would say he had a muscular enough physique, biceps and triceps bulging against the flimsy sleeves of his shirt. And yet, those were not the only ones that were bulging, too. Down south, it was definitely there. Fine, he was attractive. But he was a stupid opportunist who knew the girl he was kissing and intending on, for the lack of a better word, f*****g was absolutely spoken for. She didn’t think Felicity was an object but she was hers. Supposedly. Alex watched him walk past, raising her brows as if to challenge him even if he was like, almost a foot taller than her. Thankfully, he ducked his head, the best way to hide how petrified he was of Alex and quietly showed himself out. Marvin, that was his name. And Alex rediscovered it on the badge he wore on his right chest. Apart from the cordial nods upon entering the club – if Alex was feeling up to it, and the blatant fact that they worked together, that name was not associated with Alex. She would only see his name on checks detailing cocktail orders and as soon as she made them, Marvin was back to nonexistence. At least, in Alex’s life. Apparently, he was abundant in her girlfriend’s – as abundant as weeds, unnecessary yet persistent. The more she thought about it, the redder her vision became and while her nose was flaring, her body temperature was quickly heightening. She might as well help them steam the crap out of their chiller. But it was suffocating to even coexist with her girlfriend at the moment, and her mere presence was wringing her throat. Damn, even branding her that label wasn’t sitting well with her. Alex took it upon herself to step away because she was bound to release some spiteful words but no matter how infuriated she was, she’d never physically harm Felicity. “Alex, wait!” Felicity called out amidst thundering footsteps. It was only a matter of time before a hand latched around Alex’s wrist and kept her in place, just outside of the chiller. She didn’t even make it that far. How pathetic. And since Felicity seemed to want to talk, Alex was going to unload her arsenal of questions and hopefully find some sort of closure. And the trail towards that damn noun was perilous. Alex was already bracing herself for immense pain before redemption would come. “You’ve been sleeping with him.” She stated like she knew it for a face, barely moving her lips at the way she gritted her teeth. “How long has this been going on?” “I’m going to end it,” Felicity offered as she refused to answer those questions, positioning both her hands to clutch at Alex’s arms. Her grip was resolute, telling Alex that she was not willing to let go as those hazel eyes she once stared at with earnest adoration glossed over. “It’s over.” “Well, I’m ending this.” Alex gestured between them and she could have sworn she saw Felicity’s heart break right before her eyes. Swallowing thickly, she took a step back and shrugged the offending hands off. “We’re over.” It was an irony how they met at the club they both currently worked in when Alex had just turned twenty one, and they were to see the demise of their relationship in the same place. Maybe it wasn’t ironic. Perhaps, it was just how it was supposed to go. “I thought you loved me? We can move past this. I promise.” Felicity implored, daring to reach for Alex but all she could hold was air and her hands was left to ball into fists, which she withdrew and pressed to her chest. Tears began to spill from her eyes as she braved through her guilt to look into Alex eyes in the hopes of a second chance. The way she deflated made her look the most pitiful Alex had ever seen, nearly compelling the bartender to throw caution – and her pain – to the wind and just bundle her up in a loving embrace. It didn’t help that her eyes were prickling as moisture steadily gathered. But Alex couldn’t do that to herself. In the back of her head, she heard her friends’ voices telling her she was worth more than her cheater of an ex and what she could offer. They were the reasons why Alex was able to blink her tears away and meet her ex-girlfriend’s pleading with hostility. “Loved.” Alex emphasized the last letter, taunting and ruthless as she threw Felicity’s bullshit to her face. “You got your tenses right! Good for you!” She cheered in faux excitement and that spine-chilling grin that meant anything but pleasant. “Alex, we can fix this!” Felicity sobbed, already feeling utterly powerless with the way Alex took corresponding steps back to her advances. “There’s nothing to fix. This is not some toy with a loose screw. You screwed someone else!” Alex snapped and pointed a well-deserved accusatory finger at her ex-girlfriend. Her chest heaved, puffing heavy gusts of air with every exhale that wafted towards Felicity’s tear-drenched features. “We don’t have a relationship anymore, not since you decided it was fine to f**k someone else while you were with me. What we have is my slightest respect for you that will prevent me from slapping you across the face for whatever the hell you did to me for god knows how long. Now if you will excuse me, I have to clean that s*x den.” She scoffed for good measure, mustering the courage to form a devilish smirk at her admittedly witty jab. “I mean, the chiller.” Alex’s gaze never left her ex-girlfriend’s as she yanked the heavy door, keeping the same expression on her face. She knew it was childish to continually torment Felicity but it was the only way she could keep her tears at bay. If she allowed the pain to take over, she would have been spilling an ocean of tears. But as soon as the door closed, she was leaning against it and was taking a deep and cold breath that would burn her lungs. Still, she refused to cry. Maybe later. She was strong and even if she wasn’t, she would fake it. Cleaning the chiller wasn’t as tasking as the bar itself. It wasn’t a work area, and Alex wasn’t pacing consistently or taking things and putting them back several times. There wasn’t any sticky liquid to spill; although, faintly wondering if there were traces of Marvin or her ex-girlfriend. Cringe. The job was only asking Alex to take out wilted produce, make sure storage space corresponded to the volume its contents required and finish off by sweeping and then mopping the floor. The day-shift bartender, Randy, would have cleaned his mess by the end of his work hours. Although, that was unless some clumsy dingbat tripped and managed to spill everything all over the floors and somehow splatter reached the walls like some crime scene, which was what happened to an old coworker that one time. The guy was in a rush and somehow, tripped over air and tossed the bottle of grenadine he was holding as he was reaching for some oranges. As expected, it shattered a couple of feet from him, creating what Alex called a m******e – which she didn’t have to clean, thank god! The guy was nice and all but he wasn’t the greatest under pressure, which was why Alex didn’t know if she was supposed to be ecstatic or heartbroken when he tendered his resignation the week before. She’d caught wind that his replacement was due to start working the following day, and Alex was not in the mood to be nice. That guy had to hold his own if he wanted to work there so badly. And after what she’d walked in on, she wasn’t supposed to be expected to smile and be accommodating. Alex was set on being strictly professional with a touch of indifference. Perhaps hostility. Nothing new. And then there was the new roommate Denise kept reminding her about. She groaned. More new people to deal with. “Mason, I’m heading out! See ya later!” Alex yelled to her manager, wherever he was, as she stood at the doorway that led to the dark front of the house after cleaning and changing her shirt. She slipped into her jacket and patted the pockets to feel for her keys, listening for the man’s reply, her knapsack by her feet. Alex never left without saying goodbye, which wouldn’t necessarily be the exact word but they get the point. “Thanks! Take care, Rivera! See you!” The man’s deep, throaty voice echoed with a fatherly lilt, the same three sentiments he always bid her with. It was late or early at a meager nine minutes until three and Alex was exhausted in every sense of the word. She just wanted to go home and love her silk sheets or crawl in Denise’s bed and ask for cuddles, and silently cry in her arms. They wouldn’t cheat on or think about betraying her. And it wasn’t like there was another segment to her bar-closing routine - apart from saying goodbye to the bouncer, Tim. At least, not anymore after finding her girlfriend exchanging spit in the chiller. Felicity would have already been waiting for her, a kiss ready. And they would head out hand in hand to her ex-girlfriend’s car. She always insisted on taking Alex home because if it was up to the ballsy bartender, she would choose to walk, which wasn’t the safest considering she’d be alone in the dead of night in the streets of downtown Chicago. Then again, that was why she had Swiss knife in her back pocket. Most times, Felicity would insist on spending the night just to cuddle because both of them appreciated a warm body, the kind that belonged to the person they loved. She would leave after lunch to head home and change unless she brought extra clothes, then they’d still have time to lounge around, much to Denise’s dismay. Come to think of it, Felicity hadn’t even set foot in her apartment in a while and had only been there sporadically for longer. Cheater! Alex had been too exhausted, too distracted from working day in and day out to notice. She may have been a tad busier picking up extra hours at work over the past eight months that they didn’t need to hire a fourth bartender, taking twelve hour-shifts six days a week. Okay, she was definitely preoccupied that Felicity’s advances were usually shrugged off. It wasn’t her fault that she had bills to pay and another person’s future in her hands, and it wasn’t like her ex-girlfriend ever sat her down to talk. But what she noticed and didn’t notice didn’t matter anymore. Her eventual comprehension of the situation and her empathy, and the reason that pushed Felicity to seek for another person’s momentary warmth wouldn’t change a thing. What’s done is done and Alex didn’t think she could forgive a cheater. Trust was easily built but reconstruction was a daunting process and the initial blueprint would be of no use. They’d be obsolete, useless. “Later, Tim.” Alex grinned at the bouncer lounging at the front entrance with a hand ready for a high five. The ginormous teddy bear was eager to return her grin that made his dark eyes sparkle and himself look slightly harmless amidst his heavy build. But then he stood up, exposing his intimidating tall stature and emphasizing his rock-solid form amidst the impossibly tight fit of his dark shirt that the name ‘Timmy’ was almost laughable. Anyone would think Alex should be worried asking for a damn high five with those arms that may have been larger than her thighs with those hills of muscles protruding from his firm skin. But she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. The man was a sweetheart. Though, as far as she was concerned, she would act like nothing happened. Anyone who didn’t already know didn’t have to know even if she was lugging a broken heart shackled at her ankles and the pain was easily marring her hazy green eyes. At least, not yet. It was already hard enough to deal with it by herself and the constant fretful prodding of how she was doing might just set off her short fuse or reduce her to a crying mess; both highly unappealing. “Later, Alex. Stay safe.” He returned, drenched in fond enthusiasm and slapped her hand. “You, too, dude.” “Hi, Alex!” An unexpected voice roared and swelled into the open air of a supposed peaceful summer night decorated by the flicker of lampposts and lighting fixtures from surrounding buildings just as Alex was exiting. The person was too eager and too excited for Alex’s liking as she was forced a defensive step back. A hand in her chest, a gasp was pushed out of Alex’s lips as her eyes scanned the place for the owner of the voice. She could faintly register Tim cackling off to her side and one look was enough to silence to man up. They knew not to mess with her but apparently, not everyone understood the memo. “Sandra.” Alex grunted when she found the waitress still dressed in her uniform sans red tie, a significant number of buttons undone to expose her generous cleavage. Sandra was leaning against her car that was parked near the sidewalk, waving in a way that was attempting to beckon Alex over. And if she looked closer, she would have noticed how she was batting her fake ass eyelashes, too. Alex was sure there was a bite in her tone, the kind that was supposed to ward Sandra off but that may have not worked seeing as the woman was practically bouncing over wearing a creepy Cheshire grin. The moment she was close enough, Sandra clung to her arm like the limb belonged to her and fidgeted like a spider crawled in her pants. Alex hoped the damn thing would bite her and she wasn’t sorry. She just got her heart broken apart and her patience was wearing thin. Besides, she’d never been interested in that sort of ditzy excitement despite Sandra’s admittedly pretty face and curvaceous body. “Oh, my god, Alex. How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Sandy like people call Sandra Bullock.” Giggling, she slapped her arm. She was nice and all but she needed to learn to calm the hell down. And what the hell was so funny anyway? Sandra was attractive with her dark, daring eyes and prominent cheek bones framed by her lush, lengthy hair. She made sure that her lips would steal the show, often coated in a deep red lipstick. And by the looks of her body, she knew how to take care of it. “How many times do I have to ignore it for you to understand I don’t want to, Sandra?” Alex didn’t have to send a menacing glower at her co-worker with the way were words were dipped with poison but she did anyway. For good measure, she’d say. She didn’t particularly care to call anyone by their nicknames unless she had a close friendship with them. She sure as hell won’t be the one making them up except those hilarious, disparaging ones she concocted for Denise because that woman lived to rile her up. Might as well level the playing field. “Heading home?” Sandra was undeterred, which was admirable in itself. That would explain her zealous flirting that Alex always turned down because well, she was faithful. “Yes.” “Are you okay? I heard about your break up. Do you need anything? Drinks? I have some at home. I have bath bombs!” That was what Alex got for even trying to strangle the woman’s excitement. Sandra was what Alex would call…fizzy like a bottle of soda. Excitement would run through her veins at rest like those bubbles of carbon dioxide and no good would come out of it suppressed because when the cap is finally unscrewed, she’d be like an obnoxious geyser that even her friends couldn’t stand her. She had come off as insensitive with no such attempt at hiding her excitement over Alex’s break up. It was like covering fire with paper knowing it’d be consumed by the yellow flame until all that is left is ash. Alex’s answer would have been the same and no matter how decorated, it’d still be ‘no.’ Well, that was until she found her ex-girlfriend’s red sedan, slowly coming to a park behind Sandra’s. Felicity emerged from the open door next, a scowl directed more at Sandra than Alex. And Alex didn’t have to look closer to find something in those hazel eyes she still loved buried in her anger. It was pain and anyone could call her selfish or weak but Alex felt some strange, vindictive rush at the thought that seeing her with someone else affected Felicity, too. Alex would risk being cruel for what she was planning to do but in the core of it all, she just wanted to feel good. And if that was revenge, so be it. “What did you have in mind, beautiful?” Alex poked her tongue out and dragged it over her bottom lip at a painfully slow pace, blatantly devouring the woman’s body with her eyes that at some point, Sandra shivered. Sandra didn’t question the switch in Alex’s temperament and instead, dared to reach for Alex’s jaw and marveled at her warm skin. It was too big a leap of faith for her to wish for Alex to even look at her the way she did and while she could, Sandra would make the most out of it. Beneath the yellow glow of the lamppost, she could see Alex’s forest green eyes darkening but may have been a little off with her guess as to why. Unless of course, her mind wandered to Felicity. And if that was the case, she was spot on. Because the darkness that eclipsed the refreshing hue was not of lust, it was of anger. Although, Sandra convinced herself it was a hankering for her, lust and desire. “I can give you a massage. I have oils at home…” Sandra told her in a low, seductive voice that Alex would have been deaf if she missed the s****l lilt in it. Her hand gradually fell from Alex’s jaw, tracing a finger down to her neck until they came to rest between her covered breasts. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” “What are we still doing here, then? Take me there.” Alex’s words sent tingles to run the woman’s body, wild enough and powerful enough to choke her until she mustered willpower to screech in her celebration. Sandra dragged the willing bartender to her car, opening the door for her and fidgeting impatiently as if it was taking Alex centuries to saunter over. Alex dared to glance at her ex-girlfriend, staring at her as she made a leisurely descent to the passenger seat. She made sure to flash her a wicked grin just before she ducked in. What she saw would have broken her heart, witnessing just how the light of hope died in Felicity’s eyes but it was different then. Her heart was already broken, numbing her from feeling empathy. Besides, revenge was sweet and Alex would lick it until she stripped it of its flavor. Several quick minutes brought Alex in Sandra’s bedroom after stumbling through the dark apartment mouths fused together, shedding clothes until they both were down to their underwear. Her lips tasted like revenge, her touch a trail of fury, and Alex relished in them. Sandra had just managed to unhook her bra when Alex pressed her harshly against the door, the impact cushioned by the worn clothes hanging on hooks, which Alex had to pretend not to notice. Everything was going well, her mind was stuck in a rancorous haze and she didn’t care to navigate her way out of it but then, Sandra giggled. “What’s so funny?” “I was going to ask if you had a condom.” Her grin never wavered despite the scathing look Alex was wearing. She kissed her in an attempt to coax a smile out but all she got was a grunt. “We don’t need it.” “Shut up.” “Okay. Okay. It’s just so fun-” “You’re talking too much.” Alex interrupted, determined to push through with her plan. There was no turning back now. She just wished she picked someone else. The telltale sign of more unnecessary words came with a sharp inhale and it was so easy to just up and leave. She knew Sandra wouldn’t feel any sort of pain. They were both using each other. Alex was nothing more than an experiment to Sandra, and Sandra was just a dagger to wedge in Felicity’s heart. She didn’t stop to think just how low she’d gone, she just wanted to hurt someone. She just wanted to feel better and if she can’t do anything about the broken shards that lay where her heart used to be, she’ll find it with her skin. Even if it was temporary. “I’m going to leave if you don’t shut up.” Alex threatened, a promise in her tongue but whatever ire beamed in her eyes disappeared momentarily when she rolled them at the way Sandra traced pinched fingers across her sealed lips as if to zip them. She needed a drink. - “So…where’s the other roommate?” Denise regarded her new roommate with sympathy from the couch she was sitting on, hugging her folded legs. She watched the woman nervously run the length of her thighs with both hands while her eyes roamed around the space as if convincing herself that one day, she would feel like that was her home. But there was no hiding the sense of freedom, of relief embedded in her deep brown eyes. And no matter how much she tried to just duck down, her gaze seemed to be lured by an ominous painting of a rooftop, heavily shaded with wild unrestrained strokes. It was the first thing she saw, walking into the apartment – the solitary piece of art hanging from the section of concrete wall in the middle of the floor to ceiling windows. Denise could tell she was nervous but being a stranger, she couldn’t say much to appease her more than the warm welcome. She and Alex needed a new roommate after her sister moved out, and the rent was better split in three especially with the third bedroom. They could have moved to a smaller apartment but they could not find any that was close to both of their workplaces. It had been weeks since they posted ads in websites, Denise even went ahead and asked around at work with no such luck until a few days prior when Callie Maxwell called her. It was a quiet morning filled with polite smiles and lighthearted conversation, mostly about where everything was in the apartment building. It was times like those that Denise cursed her sister for picking the abundant windows over the solid, concrete walls as the summer sun streamed through the slats of the horizontal blinds. “She’s usually home by three-thirty, four at most. She works from two to two.” Lifting her wrist up, Denise checked her watch. It was still half past six but it was the only time she could meet with Callie after getting a phone call from her apologetic boss the previous night, asking her to come to work that day. She couldn’t trust Alex to wake up before noon and if for some miraculous reason she did, she would be in a sour enough mood, she might just scare their new roommate away. “What’s she like?” “She’s—” Whatever Denise was about to say died in her mouth as the door flung open and smashed against the wall behind it, exposing the numbers 221 in brass. In the corner of her eye, she could see Callie jump at the noise but did not bother to look behind her to the front door. "f*****g bitch.” A voice roared, husky and rough. Its owner stomped her way in – disheveled clothes, smeared make-up but the length of her hair remained immaculate. The keys she was clutching in her fist were boring into her skin as her knuckles turned white. “It’s her fault and she has the audacity to send me these stupid messages?” Denise was supposed to say creative and thoughtful. She would have mentioned that Alex was secretly sweet but she’d have sounded like one of those online sellers with products that don’t match the picture they’re advertising. Because while she’d have painted a misunderstood artist whose struggles have served as reinforced walls that kept people at a distance, what barged into her conversation was an enraged vampire. Alex looked like she hadn’t slept in decades, her fair skin pastier, worse framed by her dyed jet black hair and the dark tee she replaced her uniform with. Denise was far more concerned about the red tint of her lipstick, which obviously had been licked clean, already assuming it was Felicity’s doing. Callie flinched again when Alex slammed the door shut. And another time when she threw her key ring on the little white and red woven-designed basket that sat on the table next to the door in a disturbing clank. "What’s hot, Porcelain Butt?" Denise subtly scolded with the nickname Alex despised, her words disguised as a greeting, keeping a steely gaze at her cousin and watching her head flit towards them with obvious surprise in her eyes. She c****d her head slightly to point at the lady who was seated on the chair to her left, flashing a haunting smile with a threat written all over it. "It's too early for the grouch-fest and I don’t want the building manager to come knocking because of a noise complaint. And did you forget I told you about our new roommate coming today?" Heeding the warning, Alex dropped her knapsack on the ground and deposited her jacket and boots into the foyer closet and lugged herself over to the couch Denise was sitting on, her footsteps a dull thud against the laminate wood flooring. She expected to find the same aggravation but she found disgust in her curled lip and scrunched nose. “Why do you smell like you bathed in vodka and terrible decisions?” “Tequila.” Alex corrected with such nonchalance, lifting the neckline of her shirt and taking a whiff to confirm that yes, she did smell of alcohol but did not care to comment on the second part of the question. “Whatever.” Denise dismissed with a roll of her eyes, dropping her feet to the floor. “Callie, this is Alexis the grouch, and Alex, that’s Callie. She's our new roommate." “Took her long enough get here." Alex grumbled under her breath, which earned her an elbow to her side. "Ow! What?" Across them, Callie pursed her lips to keep from laughing. She could tell that the pair loved each other and whatever tension was currently wrapping them up was because they cared. For a brief moment, they conversed with their eyes and she watched Denise’s warm hue burn an inferno when just earlier they were comforting her like a warm fireplace on a cold day. She was forced out of her quiet observation when green eyes suddenly trained towards her, precise like a laser beam as they roamed around her body as if appraising her. She wondered if there was something wrong about her hooded sweater or the leggings she decided to wear, fighting against herself to keep her hands from smoothening a loose chocolate brown strand that may have poked out. But then, she found delight swirl like caramel on the sundae of her eyes but whatever was sprinkled prickled with danger and it came in the form of a smirk, devious and scheming. She looked like danger, and Callie knew to stay away from her. But the decision was not up to her. "Hi." Callie mumbled, cursing herself for choking on one syllable. "Hello." Alex retorted in a lilt that set off Denise, whose elbow was back prodding her side. "Stop that!" "Stop being creepy!" Denise reprimanded, a withering glare shooting daggers at her but just like a switch, her gaze softened as she looked towards Callie. She needed to shelter her from Alex before her cousin could chase her away or they’d be stuck with splitting rent between the two of them for another month. “I’m sorry about her. Her girlfriend might not have touched her right.” She didn’t see Alex tense at the insinuation but Callie did. “Do you want to rest for a bit? I’ll show you your room.” Denise walked up to Callie and grabbed one of the two suitcases by her side, leaving Alex sitting there, a blank expression on her face. She led their new roommate deeper into the apartment, through the walkway between dining room and kitchen until they reached the row of doors. Denise mentioned that the first one was hers and the one next to it will be Callie’s. She pointed to the bathroom and laundry room behind the kitchen and left her to her devices. "What was that?" Denise asked when she found Alex reaching for a beer can in the refrigerator. “I thought you loved Felicia and you were openly devouring Callie.” “Felicity and I are done.” Alex muttered like she would while discussing the electricity bills, the grips of fury still latched onto her as she was reminded of everything that had transpired in the past couple of hours. She’d given up on correcting Denise’s deliberate mistake of her ex-girlfriend’s name, now relishing it as she thought of the cheating b***h. “Oh, thank God! I never liked her.” The words left Denise's mouth before she could restrain herself. She’d never hidden her distaste for Felicity, though it might not have been the time to mention it again and in such sharp tone. She leaned her hip against the counter, crossing her arms, a good appraising distance but all Alex was willing to give her was an unimpressed roll of her eyes before taking a huge gulp of beer. She could see turmoil hiding behind the indifference, another defense mechanism she’d noticed after years of knowing each other but prodding would not have done her any good. “Dumb question. How are you?” “I just wish I don’t have to see her everyday at work.” Alex breathed a heavy sigh, raking her fingers through her hair. "So, quit then." "I can't leave Chug.” Defeat sat heavy on her shoulders as Alex shook her head. “I have things to pay for." "What kind of things?" Unknown to Denise was the promise Alex gave her younger sister, the reason for all the excess hours at work. Stella was about to head off to college in the fall and Alex was determined to make it happen with or without their estranged father’s help. She hadn’t spoken to the man since he left them for another woman, a high school sweetheart he could never forget, he claimed, but their relationship became virtually nonexistent when she told him she was gay. She hoped her mother would understand but she’d shunned her away instead, leaving her no choice but to leave home more than eight years ago and Stella was the only one who kept in touch. "You work at Chug?" Callie’s voice broke through her reverie, uncertainty vibrated within her question. "Yeah." Alex turned to her, finding her with a towel over her shoulder and a toiletry bag in her hand. "Bartender. Why?" "Me, too. I start tonight." Callie retorted, unable to suppress the need to inhale deeply. Alex’s gaze unsettled her. She’d never been looked at as intensely and she couldn’t understand if it was her eyes or just the aura encapsulating the woman, and that one brow that steadily rose with interest was not helping her at all. “Perfect.”