[b]Yesterday – 5:45pm[/b]

They sat idled on Kirk Drive, about a block down from Ashling’s apartment. From the blown-out speakers of her ‘94 Camry came a deep pulse of analog synth (a refugee from the mid-80s) before paper-thin guitar chords rang in between a steady machine drumbeat. The car was obviously fish-bowled. Smoke seeped comically from the mere ventilation of the car’s cracked windows and drifted into the tree line that blocked a view of I-35.

“…which would be totally fine, do what you want dude… seriously there’s nothing I hate more than guys that don’t have their own friends… like, I’m not crazy right? There’s a certain brand of person out their that –.” The rest of her stirring rant would need to be put on hold to nurse the expertly crafted joint resting in her hand, “… out there that, male or female, you know,” her hands cut about the smoke in a mad flurry, “once they get into a relationship, they either dump their friends… OR, the small amount of friends they DID have are driven away once things start heating up.” She continued uncontested over the silence in the car, until she realized she was doing most of the talking. “Am I making sense?”

Ashling laughed. “You’re fine, Callie. Just stop being a hog and pass me your lighter too, you always need to tell a goddamn story.”

“Just want to make sure my audience is paying attention.”

“You fail to realize my attention has been on the joint in your hand.” She pointed.

Callie laughed, swiping her phone off. “I’m the worst, I know.” She passed both over to Ash, before switching gears without a beat. “I just fucking can’t believe Ellen.”

“OHHH MY GOOOOOD.” Ash looked tortured, like she was in mental anguish. “If I have to hear about her one more time…” She could hear Callie laughing, “Shut up, that was one of the best things about leaving UMK.”

“You have work at…?”

“Eight. Not too bad.”

“I could really go for some tortas, then we can see your dealer?”

“Yes to food…" She sighed. "...and yeah, I can hit him up." She was quiet for a moment. Her eyes focused on the smoldering point of tight white, "He’s been weird recently, I dunno, you’ll see I guess.” Ash took a hit.
---

[b]Present Day – Morning[/b]

She stretched in bed, attempting to raise her arms out from the sheets pinned under Callie's body. With enough effort she broke free and stumbled across her bedroom floor to the dresser, slipping into a flowing Brooklyn Americans knit jersey. She crossed over collapsed party-goers, journeyed in between littered solo-cups and empty liquor handles, and eventually spilled into the main room of the apartment. A few people stirred in small pockets among the room, quietly adjusting in their half-sleep.

She sat on the balcony and lit a serviceable roach, fumbling with her iPhone and looking out at the city around her. The day was just beginning and in her living room lay scattered a bunch of undergrads that would be - with much [i]regret[/i] - missing their classes. After some aimless thought (or 'dose' of morning meditation) she was reminded of something she had to do, she dialed Conor.

He answered, but made certain he was busy. "Conor, how are ya, you old fool? Think I could pick up some mice for Jeff later?"