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There was always something lonely about morning walks, especially those that weren't intentional. Plenty of people went for morning walks or jogs in order to stay healthy or in order to get healthy, but this wasn't one of those walks and Quinn wasn't interested in personal fitness. If anything she should be eating more, putting some more meat to fill out the nonexistent curves hidden away behind her clothes. Said clothes were not designed for walks, either - as she put one foot in front of the other down the sidewalk she came to realize that her bartending uniform, such as it was, was not meant to be worn for cross town traffic. Of all the nights to be driven to work...

And yet there she was, Quinn Diamond walking slowly towards the Garden of Eden that was Eden Gardens with her head pointed forward, lit cigarette dangling from her lips as a trail of smoke plumed skyward. The cigarette should've been more enjoyable. The first cigarette of the day often brought comfort, but she couldn't enjoy this one and there was no do-over. Quinn didn't even know why she lit it. Habit, most likely. It's just what she did. Sun rise. Cigarette lit. Smoke rise. Ashes fall. She really should quit; used to be walking was nothing at all but her lungs were starting to complain. Or maybe it was her mind. Her legs? She really should quit but there was still half a carton back in her room. That would last three days. Maybe four.

The reason for this early morning deathmarch was yet another occupational hazard. She was on shift last night, spinning bottles and tales in equal measure. It was Friday, always a busy night, and Quinn was hoping to share the load with Cassandra - she was always good to cover for a few minutes while Quinn ducked out for a smoke - but Cassandra was off the night. Quinn managed, she always found a way, and some customers even managed to not be dicks and tip her. But there was one customer who was there for more than a steady stream of appletini's. 

The name was forgotten now, just another name committed to the air in the midst of passionless fun, but after the awkward come ons, the nervous chuckling, the 'oh no I've been caught staring' glances, Quinn had to confront the customer, taking the reigns and inviting herself back to the blonde's place once her shift ended. Quinn regretted it, not that it had been a bad experience but she wasn't in college anymore, where the random hook ups were just part of the experience. So much of her life had been defined by the unreal and the fleeting that some random hookup no longer offered anything other than a momentary thrill. It was Quinn's fault, she knew that, but she just couldn't help but fall into her old ways. 

Quinn never stuck around for breakfast, those awkward conversations where neither party is sure what to think. Was it a one time thing? A 'call me' thing? Quinn knew enough to know that some random blonde kinda-pretty kinda-nice from the bar wouldn't lead to anything serious and giving that hope was more hurtful than just simply sneaking out when the sun came up. 

As she rounded the corner, thoughts of last night's shift fading from her mind, her ears pricked up. It was morning, wasn't it? Why, then, could she hear the strumming of guitar and the muffled sounds of cheesy synth as she got closer? Plenty of her resident mates were kids in college, and all Quinn ever wanted to do on Saturday's in college was sleep until the sun hung high in the sky. [color=AFEEEE]"Glad I'm not hungover..."[/color] she muttered as she crossed onto Eden Garden territory, the cacophony of different sound sources hitting her like a strong cocktail. [color=AFEEEE]"Mornin, Slick,"[/color] Quinn greeted Alexander as she passed, offering a two finger wave-slash-salute. 

Quinn didn't make it to her room. She made it to the steps leading inside the complex and plopped herself down. The cigarette she had been walking with was dropped to the floor and stamped out, replaced almost instantly by another tucked away in the inner pocket of her bartending vest. The first cigarette of the day might've been ruined, but she was determined to enjoy this second one. Between the guitar, the muffled synth, and what sounded like Cassandra warbling away, it was hardly a peaceful scene, but Quinn could at least add the sounds of her own internal conflict to the proceedings.[/center]