Close Ain't Close Enough

Nydia Wilson | While I'm dreaming I feel you leaving

It had been a month since she had seen Atticus Bralen, a month since she'd fallen into bed with him; and a month since he left. She should of expected that he'd be gone in the morning. After all, while she wasn't particularly a fan of the Alternative music scene, he and his band With Eyes Sewn Shut were one of the biggest names in that scene at the moment. But when Nydia woke up the next morning her bed, finding nothing but rumpled sheets and a little piece of paper with a number on it- well she had been left feeling a little disappointed. It wasn't her habit to meet someone and later jump their bones; but Nydia hadn't ever been attracted to someone like the way she had been to Atticus. There was something so.... Different in the many tattoos he'd chosen to decorate his body with. Something forbidden and impish in that grin of his, and something surprisingly intelligent in those hazel orbs that seemed to be able to see through every wall that Nydia had put up. The next morning when her friends saw a post on his Instagram, a simple photo of them grinning stupidly up into the camera on his phone they'd gushed of how lucky she was for a week; and then her scandalous encounter with the musician was forgotten by them. Even Nydia had managed to put him out of her mind. Her parents would have a heart attack if she got involved with someone with Atticus' reputation and as horrid as was it, how he looked.

Sure he was sweet enough, but her friends had taken it upon themselves to point out that he'd had run-in's with drugs in the past, though supposedly he was clean now, and he wasn't exactly known for being a one woman show. If her parents knew any of that, they'd be liable to ship Nydia off to Antarctica so that she couldn't embarrass their family name by being involved with a person like that. So, she hadn't called him. Hadn't texted him and instead had put his number in her drawer. There was a piece of her that couldn't throw it away- because in all of her twenty one years of living, Atticus Bralen was the closest thing to freedom from her name, or parents, or even the judgment of society she'd ever had. But that night had come at a price, and she'd discovered that price last week. Last week Nydia had missed her period- and that hadn't happened in years. Just to be cautious she'd gone to the store and picked up a pregnancy test. Because it must be some weird hormone thing right? There was no way she was pregnant. They hadn't used a condom- but Nydia was on birth control, and if she missed a pill or two here occasionally it still worked pretty well right? That's what she told herself all the way back to her apartment, slamming the door, dropping her things and going straight to the bathroom with the cursed little stick.

When that pink little plus came back to mock her, Nydia had dropped the stick on the floor the air being expelled from her lungs. No, she wasn't pregnant. She couldn't be. So, she had made an appointment with the college nurse; and under her disapproving gaze had conducted another pregnancy test. That had come back positive as well. As did the next one. After that Nydia had stumbled back home in a daze. Pregnant. Fuck, didn't even come close to expressing her panic and worry. How the hell was she going to explain this one? The only thing her parents paid for without asking what the money was for was her apartment's rent. Other than that they were entirely stingy with their funds. So no matter how Nydia diced it- she was fucked. God her parents were going to disown her. Nydia's father came from a long line of movie directors- her mother writers. And their motto? A person is only as good as their name; so she shuddered to think of what their reactions would be when they found out their only daughter was impregnated by someone like Atticus. A man who was nothing like any of the stuffy sons or daughters of her parent's friends. Shit. Not to mention that Nydia wasn't quite sure if she'd even be able to get in touch with Atticus again.

Thank god that when she had lain in her bed ready to just give up and cry, she remembered his number shoved carelessly into her top drawer of her desk. It took two more days to finally call him, and she nearly hung up when she heard his groggy, "'Lo?" His soft English voice trickling through the other end of the line. "Hello." Nydia had squeaked out, forgetting how to breathe. She'd been told earlier that week by her friend Lola that he often spent a lot of time between England, where he was born, and here. She just hoped he was still in the states. "Who's calling?" He'd spoken his voice sounding more alert and Nydia tried not to feel to let down by this. "Um... Nydia. We- we hung out about a month ago? I was just wondering if you were still stateside?" There'd been a pause before his voice lightened considerably. "Nydia? Yeah. I'm not leaving until next we-" Before losing the nerve, she cut him off blurting out gracelessly, "Great! Can we meet up somewhere? You can come over if you'd like." He didn't even ask why before he agreed. They made plans to see each other the next night. Nydia hadn't even thought about what she wanted to do. Keep it? How would he react? How would he react if she didn't? Her stomach was awash with anxiety, and when Lola had come home from classes sympathetically tried to cheer Nydia up. "Well, if he doesn't stick around then he's an asshole. I'll always help you out best I can." Her friend had promised sweetly before suggesting a movie night.

She fell asleep on the couch that night; and when she woke up Lola was gone leaving a note that she'd be gone for the day and if Nydia needed anything to call. What Nydia needed was to not be pregnant. But that wouldn't happen. So when it rolled around the time when Atti' was coming around she'd began to half-heartedly pick up the apartment. Even changed into a nice dress and minimally did her makeup. She was still disgustingly nervous, her fingers tapping on the couch arm until she heard the bell ring, and her phone light up with a simple, Here. Nydia's legs were shaking so hard as she got up that the woman thought she'd fall over at any second. Sure enough when she opened her door he was standing there looking as out of place and beautiful as the night they first met. Atticus had grinned, given her a friendly hug with a greeting and stepped into her apartment chattering about something. She was too nervous to hear him. She'd make soft little hums and nod her head; trying to figure out mentally just how to tell the male about her... Well really their situation. That's how she was now, sitting on the opposite end of the couch her gaze distant as the TV played in the background. "So, what's up? Did you want to go out or something? If not I can order food." He offered and Nydia shook her head.

It was now or never. "So... A month ago-" She started, gaining a little confidence as she spoke. "I know. It was just a night. I was okay with that. I didn't really plan on texting or calling you to be frank." Breathe. Just remember to breathe. "Uh... Last week I-" Against her will Nydia's throat closed around a lump, and she could feel her eyes begin to water. Shakily exhaling she forced herself to just get the sentence over with. If he left, than he left and she'd have to figure out what to do. If he stayed, well... At least she wouldn't be alone in this. "I'm pregnant." Finally the words rushed from her lips slightly jumbled, but by the way his eyes widened ever so slightly and mouth pressed together, Nydia knew he understand. "I haven't slept with anyone else. I went to the college doctor, and had two tests done, and a test from CVS. And I know, I know this wasn't the plan and I don't know what to do and just... And...." Again those tears came back, one even dropping onto her cheek before she shook her head taking deep breaths to steady herself. "I'm not saying you have to stay. We barely know each other. I'm not far along. I just thought it was ethical you know before I make any choices. And even if I decide to have it- I'm not saying you have to stay. I don't want to, but if it comes to it I can do this on my own." She was trying to get him to say something. Say anything. Rather he sat still and quiet on her couch, and running out of words, she too lapsed into silence as she waited for some sort of reaction from Atticus.

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Carter Burbridge | We try and run away, but end up running back.

Hazel's coming back. The first time Jack Reeves mentioned the homecoming of his granddaughter it had been while Carter was doing some work around the bed and breakfast. The garden needed work, and it had been a nice day so Jack had followed him outside hobbling along to sit on the porch in his swinging chair. The moment that Carter heard Hazel's name he had paused, ignoring the way his heartbeat began to speed up. "Oh yeah?" He had questioned to which Jack happily hummed. The man was a bit senile these days, and Carter was more or less running just about everything, and when he needed it- helping Jack. Not that he minded. Jack had been more a father to him than his own flesh and blood. Took him in at sixteen and let him work for his keep. Even though that just meant one more room couldn't be rented out. And Hazel? Well she'd been around since Carter had been around. From the moment they met the two had been bickering. She called him an asshole, he called her pretentious- it never changed between them. Summers' were spent pulling pranks on the girl, while she simply huffed and puffed and stomped around after a particularly great prank, or just Carter being a pain in the ass in general. Of course, when Carter had finally tried to be nice to Hazel it was no wonder that she still disliked him. But it had been a good three years since she'd last come around. Jack said she got a fancy job in New York. It only made Carter respect her more when he heard she'd quit that up and coming job to come back here, to take care of things.

To take care of her grandfather, and the business that was losing business year by year. And so for the month that Carter and Jack had to prepare for Hazel's return they were really trying to spiff the place up. Jack joked that Carter was doing it to impress her. He was right, but Carter would sooner cut off his tongue than admit that. "I'm only doing it so she doesn't think I've been neglecting the place and fires me or something." He'd retorted, to which Jack feebly chortled. "Keep telling yourself that boy." And Carter had. For the month that he worked his ass off to paint rooms, get screens for windows that lacked them, and had impeccably and immaculately reorganized and cleaned his kitchen and room. Not a damn piece of dust could be found in that bed and breakfast. Carter had even borrowed a powerwasher from a friend to clean the front of the bed and breakfast. The place basically looked new and he was damned proud of himself. As was Jack. There would be nothing that would be under Hazel's expectations. If nothing else, the guests the few that had come in the past month- mostly broke kids just out of college on road-trips, were impressed with Carter's handiness. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, there was a growing eagerness throughout that month for Hazel to come. He'd be picking her up from the airport, about a two hour drive. That was surely bound to be interesting.

Then the day finally rolled around and Carter was to go pick up the woman. And if he just happened to wear his best jeans and gray t-shirt. So what if he combed his hair? And he absolutely did not care that Jack chuckled and rolled his eyes at his worker. "Try not to kill each other on the ride, hear?" Carter simply smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Call if you need anything." And with that he was heading out of the B&B and to his beat up pickup truck, parked in the front of the driveway. He didn't particularly like the car, but it was useful for when Carter had to run to the farmer's market to pick up ingredients, or for picking up anything really. Tools for the lawn, one time a couple who had a reservation's car broke down and Carter had to go down and pick them and their luggage up. Jack's place really went above and beyond. The ride down wasn't that bad. The windows open, a nice summer breeze whipping through the car and some indie song, crooning a love song leaking from his radio. He'd stopped once for gas, and once to grab some snacks for him and Hazel. He had no clue what she even liked, so he'd gotten a little bit of everything. Chips, jerky, a chocolate bar, and even a zebra cake. If she didn't like it than he'd be happy to munch down on it for her.

By the time he finally got to the airport, thirty-two minutes late Carter was in a rush. He'd parked as close as possible and sprinted to the airport's doors earning a few glares from other patrons. He didn't care. By the time that he made it to the lobby Jack said Hazel would be waiting- it didn't take long to find one seriously annoyed looking woman striding towards him. She was just as Carter remembered. Her hair was a little longer than he remembered, but no it was still Hazel. "Hey, sorry about being late." He apologized, sheepishly. They were not off to a good start. She probably thought he'd did it just to mess with her. But, Carter had underestimated traffic- that's all. "Uh... If your delicate New York pallet can stomach it I got you some snacks in the car. Airport food usually sucks. So... You're ready to get going?" People around them are swirling and rushing about, anxious to get to their destinations as was Carter. He wanted to get back to the bed and breakfast and get back to the kitchen, get back to his job. The man didn't think that much had changed between him and Hazel, and he wasn't sure what to think of that either.

Atticus Bralen | Only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope

“Take five,” The muffled voice cut through on the opposite side of the sound proof glass. Atticus shrugged off the tension in his shoulders as a few bones popped and crackled, placing the guitar back onto its stand. A small sigh escaped his lips as his heavy eyes turned to the couch on the opposite side of the wall. What he wouldn’t do to take a nap. “This album’s gonna be awesome,” Brandon, the band’s bassist, exclaimed while tossing his hands overhead with a resounding woo. Over the past few months, their band, With Eyes Sewn Shut, was starting to gain momentum in the music world with sold out concerts and platinum albums galore. They could barely leaving any building with screaming fans waiting for them, which they all blamed Brandon for since he updated his Twitter wherever they went. Their manager encouraged that they ride on this motion by tossing them back into the recording studio, waiting for their creativity to kick in. After finishing their first American tour last week, all the group wanted was some rest but they had to power through. It meant many sleepless nights on the road with his fellow band mates, making Atticus exhausted and irritable practically all the time. “Mate, turn it down,” He groaned, rubbing his temples with a shake of the head from a lingering hangover.

Throughout his entire life, Atticus struggled with drug and alcohol addiction. The white powder did wonders, making him numb and foggy to every pain. While he preferred the drugs, the alcohol filled that void whenever he couldn’t find a fix. He managed to get clean multiple times from rehab, but, with the stress of touring and maintaining an image, he inevitably slipped back into old habits. His band mates could only monitor their troubled member, praying that he didn’t slip off the deep end. Luckily, Atticus never overdosed or needed his stomach pumped but the edge always haunted him. Last night was no different. After tossing and turning in his bed for hours, he found the whiskey in his suitcase calling to him. Atticus willed everything in his body to not get up, remembering the group therapy he went through. There were people with worse complication than him that didn’t rely on the numbing wonders, reminding him that he didn’t need alcohol to make it through the night. However, the urge to drink overwhelmed him and he downed the bottle in a few gulps as possible. This brought him back to the beginning of his thirty day cleanse once more. Despite the initial guilt, Atticus fell into a peaceful slumber.

Crap. They all knew what a short-tempered Atticus meant. Brandon cast worried eyes to him, wondering why their guitarist had relapsed this time. “Sorry,” Brandon quietly mumbled, ghosting this fingers over the strings. Feeling the pounding in his head, Atticus downed the glass of water just in time for the producer to come back. For the remainder of the day, the band holed themselves up inside of the studio. Despite pushing through the hangover, his events from the previous night inhibited his motor skills. “Shit, sorry,” He apologized for the umpteenth time after strumming the wrong cord. The producer already decided it would be an instrumental day after Atticus’ voice cracked, ruining the entire song. “You know what? Let’s call it a day. We’re not getting anything done here. Atticus, pull yourself together for tomorrow,” The man harshly ordered, leaving the sound booth. Fuck, he had ruined everything. “It was a rough night, guys. I-I’ll get my shit together for tomorrow,” Atticus vowed, placing his guitar back onto its stand. Why did he have to do that? Take one good thing and make it awful. Everything that he touched seemed to crumble and destroy itself.

Returning back to the hotel, Atticus collapsed into the bed with a groan as he turned to face the ceiling. What the hell was wrong with him? He had been clean for almost half the month and he ruined it with one gulp. The next thing he knew, his ringer went off. Reaching out, he fumbled around till his hand enclosed around the cool metal. “Lo?,” He spoke, pressing the phone to his ears. The other end of the line was silent for a moment till an American accent broke the silence. Hello. A female nonetheless. How had she gotten his number? The last fan that managed to find out his personal line needed a restraining order. Two number changes and a bodyguard later, he thought he was safe. Clearing his throat, he pushed the sleep away as he sat up in his bed. “Who’s calling?” Atticus questioned, leaning against the bed frame. His eyes lingered over toward the time to see it was half past midnight. On a usual day, he would be up sitting at a bar somewhere but he must have fallen asleep. Um… Nydia. We- we hung out about a month ago? I was just wondering if you were still stateside?” Nydia? He racked his brain at the familiar sounding name until he finally hit him. That Nydia. “Nydia? Yeah, I’m not leaving until next we-“ He was cut off by the woman’s giddy yet nervous voice. By the end of the phone call, they managed to figure out a place to meet for tomorrow.

The next day was better. They managed to record one song without any problems, significantly improving the morale of the band. It made Atticus a little bright-eyed and lighter. At their timed meeting, Atticus slipped away from his responsibilities to meet with Nydia. Knocking on her door, it opened for him to see the hazel-eyed woman. He offered a grin before taking her into his arms, giving a light squeeze. “It’s nice to see you again. I was actually surprised that you called me. It’s been a month,” He rambled, stepping away to settle his eyes on her. Despite the time apart, she looked well but seemed oddly nervous. Of course, she was a fan but they had gotten to know each other during the tour in more ways than one. He figured that they could be friends and left his number. “So, what’s up? Did you want to go out or something? If not, I can order food,” Atticus offered, fishing out his phone from his pocket. When she shook her head, he cocked his head to the side and found an odd silence in the room. The next slew of words went by like a whirl until the last two came out clearly: I’m pregnant.

Atticus felt his jaw go slack while his heart practically stopped beating in his chest. But Nydia promised she’d be on birth control. That’s the only reason why they had fallen into bed without a condom. While he didn’t think she went around with others, the thought crossed his mind but she shot it down. So, this kid was really his? Running a hand through his curled locks, he let out a shaky breath. His eyes automatically dropped to her stomach, realizing that it was his child growing in there. Atticus could feel his legs beginning to tremble and took a seat on one of the chairs while his world turned upside down. “I, uh,” He trailed off, struggling to find the correct words. It would be easier to step away from this now before it spiraled out of control. He could bury his head into all of his music, forgetting about this child. That would be the best path for him to take. But how could he just walk away? Like his child wouldn’t be out there in the world without him. “So, so, you’re having the baby?” He questioned, knowing that there were more options. “Look, I know that I’m probably not the best role model in the world…and I sure as hell don’t know how to be a father. But I can’t walk away from this. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I guess, what I mean to say is that I’m here for whatever you need. Honestly.”

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Hazel Reeves | Baby, you’re simply lost

Three years. That was the last time she had been home. After graduating from college, Hazel practically ran from the suburbs and went headfirst for the busiest city in New York, Manhattan, to work for one of the most well-known banks as an accountant. She craved the excitement, needing the fast-paced lifestyle. Back in her hometown, she disliked the small dynamic and the biggest news that ever happened was who won the local fishing competition. Every time all she could do was roll her eyes, unable to understand it. Moving to the city changed her life for the better. Hazel could still vividly picture the vibrant, blinding lights and the indistinct voices filling the streets on her first night. The smell of garbage filled her nostrils, making her stomach flip, but she easily decided that this would be home. And, so, it had been until Hazel heard about her grandfather’s drastic decline in health not to mention the lack of business at the bed and breakfast he owned. The prospect of quitting her new job and leaving all of her friends scared her, considering she would be starting over for the second time. However, the last thing she could do was sit back and relax while everything ran into the ground. Biting the bullet, she dropped everything to return back home and help.

Settling into her seat on the flight, butterflies filled her stomach as she gripped onto the arm rest of the chair. “Nervous, sweetie?” The older woman questioned to her right, holding a sympathetic gaze. “Something like that,” Hazel responded with an uneasy laugh, turning her head to look out the window. She was actually going home. Back to where every person knew each other. Back to boredom. Back to Carter. A shiver rippled down her spine at the thought of that arrogant jerk. Growing up, it seemed that the chef went out of his way to make her life as miserable as possible. He put gum in her hair and worms in her food just to mention a few. Her own personal bully throughout childhood. In turn, Cater constantly reminded her of what a pretentious girl she was. Their relationship consisted of constant bickering...and that was it, right? Hazel’s grandfather even informed her that he would be picking her up from the airport, making her groan. Attempting to push out her thoughts, she picked a movie at random and prepared herself for the four hour flight ahead.

“God, where is that man? I swear, he can never be on time for anything,” She thought aloud, impatiently tapping her foot against the tiled floor. Her flight had landed an hour ago but there was some time between finding her luggage. Hazel figured that Carter would be waiting for her and rushed through the crowd, practically pushing over another passenger to reach for her red case. Yet here she stood with a cell phone in one hand and her luggage in the other with no Carter to be found. “Grandpa, he’s not answering the phone,” She complained to Jack, unable to hold back a sigh. She should have known that he wouldn’t be waiting for her. “Just give him a break. I’m sure he hit traffic. Remember, be nice. He didn’t have to drive out there to get you.” Right. In her mind, Carter was still the same boy with the same antics to piss her off. Of course, when given the task to pick her up, he had to take advantage of the opportunity and be late. “I guess… Oh, I see him,” She seethed, angrily hitting the end button on the call. Just in the distance, she found the same piercing blue eyes adorned with that stupid smirk. It was Carter alright.

Drawing in a deep breath, Hazel cut through the throng of people with a tight jaw and narrowed eyes. Hey, sorry about being late. “Yeah, right. Just leave me here waiting for almost an hour,” She sarcastically replied, placing her free hand on her hip. He definitely enjoyed the annoyance clearly written on her expression. If your delicate New York pallet can stomach it I got you some snacks in the car Well, she was hungry. On the flight, they offered ridiculously priced snacks, which she definitely couldn’t afford spending money on. Being unemployed did that to a person. “Maybe. Depends on what you have.” Maybe she did need to cut him some slack. Nodding the second question, she followed him back out to the car and placed her luggage into the back of his pickup truck. “Wow, you still have this thing?” She remembered the first time Carter ever pulled it up to the B&B. He bragged about how he purchased it with his own money, which she was slightly jealous of. Because he was a couple years older, Hazel didn’t even have a permit to practice driving and here he had his own car already. It took a while for her to live it down. She hopped up into the passenger side, buckling up. It was odd being in a car, considering all of the public transportation in New York.

“So, how bad is he?” She finally summoned the courage to address the elephant in the room. Constantly, she worried for her grandfather and the business that he had built from the bottom up. Hazel saw every ounce of effort that he poured into the B&B and could only hope to have that same kind of passion for her profession. The thought of it closing up made her heart ache. She was too nervous to meet Carter's gaze, afraid of what the answer would be. Did he have months? Years? He sounded weary over the phone, making her more upset with the situation. She turned her eyes out the window to scan over the familiar landscape, feeling the nostalgia. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did miss this place. After the twenty minute ride, they arrived at what appeared to be the B&B. Her felt her jaw go slack, leaning forward in her seat to view the fresh coat of paint. It looked more modern and friendly, even with screens to keep insects out in the summer. From one look, she would have sworn that it was newly built instead of from the mid nineteen hundreds. When she finally made it inside, the quaint little B&B reflected the outside and had a refreshing appeal. “Wow, this looks… really amazing,” Hazel approved, knowing that they could turn around from this. But this must have cost them a fortune. She didn’t even want to think about how much debt the place was swimming in.