Mistakes Were Made

[Brooklyn Fisher]

"Goddammit!"  Brooke hissed as she shook the slim, black clutch purse she held in her hands.  She dug around again, pushing aside the lipstick, business cards with various false names and numbers printed on them, roll of breath mints and other necessary articles for a night out in a desperate attempt to find the keys to her apartment.  The scent of alcohol wafted about the tall, slender woman as she grumbled under her breath with increasing frustration.  She remembered checking for them when she left the bar, though she couldn't recall seeing the key ring when she fished out a pack of chewing gum during the cab ride home.

With a huff of frustration Brooke closed her purse and moved down the hall to her neighbor's apartment door.  The fact that it was approaching 3 o'clock in the morning was utterly lost on Brooke as she rapped her knuckles against the door.  "Bell!"  She called.  "Beeeeelllllll!"  She smacked the door with the palm of her hand a few times before slumping forward against it.  "I lost my keys."  She moaned pitifully to the non-existent person on the other side.  "That means I lost yours too."

After waiting for much longer than normal, Brooke's head tilted back and she let out another groan of resigned frustration.  She turned and pressed her back against the door and slid down to the floor, to a sitting position on her knees.  She leaned against the wall, the side of her head leaning against her neighbor's door and her eyes closed.  "Goddammit."  She grumbled to herself.

[Charlotte Logan]

Charlotte was just returning to her apartment complex after a late tutoring with one of her students. Night had already fallen, the night sky turning deep violet against the harsh glow of Kaspelli's light pollution, and so the area was calm and quiet as the young blonde crossed the courtyard. Charlotte enjoyed the solemn quiet, but the darkness which hung around her made her a little anxious and she should have been home hours ago but she had missed the last bus and so had to walk home.

The sound of the quiet buzz as she opened the door into her block gave her some comfort though. The hallways were always well lit and relatively safe, there were a few shady members who lived in the block but no mass murders just some college students who smoked weed occasionally outside the front door; they were absent tonight. Shutting the door quietly behind her, Charlotte had only just closed the door when she heard the yell from the floor above.

"Goddamnit!"

The word caused Charlotte to frown. Charlotte rarely cursed herself and even rarer did she use gods name in vain. People didn't understand her dislike for the word goddamnit, but having been raised in a strictly Christian household meant that it had been ingrained into the young blondes mind that using God's name in a negative light was bad. Her father had once told her that only bad people used cursewords, but Charlotte didn't believe that. She believed just because people used certain words, didn't mean they were bad people.

Climbing the stairs cautiously, she continued to hear a frustrated shouts and as she reached the first landing, she could see who the previously disemobdied voice belonged to. A tall, lanky woman with dark hair and pale skin sat on the floor, slurred words bubbling from within her chest, a small frown on her face. The blonde found herself frowning too, clutching her satchel to her side as she paused on the landing, watching the woman leant against the door of- what Charlotte assumed was- her apartment.

"..hello?" Charlotte questioned, taking a few steps towards her "Are you alright?"

[Brooklyn Fisher]

Brooke had brought her knees up to her chest and issued a long, exaggerated yawn. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd ended up sleeping the an apartment hallway. At least this time it was actually her apartment building she was taking up a spot in. She had a plan, though. Before long Bell would come home and find her and when she did, Brooke could get the spare key she'd stashed in the Academy teacher's apartment. Either that or she'd just claim Bell's couch for the night (and probably most of the next day).

A voice cut through the hazy din that clouded Brooke's alcohol-addled mind. Her eyes fluttered open and she tilted her head back to look up at someone who was decidedly not her neighbor. She sat there for a moment, lulling the three word question over for far longer than it should have taken. Then, after a long while, a smile spread across Brooke's face. "Me?" She asked with an dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm great." There was no sarcasm or doubt in Brooke's voice, she was being completely sincere. The night had been fantastic and ended with the right amount of flirtatious fun before she poured herself into a cab to take her home. "How about you?" A brow quirked curiously up at the stranger. "How's you're night going?"