NEIGHBORS ➢ C. STURNIOLO

11. LAX

Elena arched an eyebrow, "that's not enough? I was just gonna layer."

Chris snorted and Elena whipped her head around to look at him, "sorry. Sorry for laughing. It's just... you're so LA," to which she rolls her eyes in response.

"You guys act like you don't live there. If anything, I can borrow clothes from you guys. Like, the bigger jackets and stuff. Since they're bigger, I can layer more," she shrugs and flips Chris off. Although they were close friends now, their rude banter continued. If someone was to ask Elena how she felt about it, she would say that she could live without it. If Chris was asked the same question, he would also say that it's something he could learn to live without. Both of them favored the moments where they were sweet to each other, but neither will admit that.

"I'll help you find stuff to pack later, I think we leave Wednesday. So, three days of packing you gotta do for two weeks of vacation," Nick clapped his hands together as he started to think of a strategy but began shaking his head, "honestly. Let's just go. Now. To your place. I need to see what if you should buy something before we leave."

"We don–"

"Clearly, we do," Nick interrupted Elena's clear attempt to stop him, "you two should start packing, too."

Chris and Matt turned their heads to look at their brother then at each other, "mmkay."

Nick waited at the door while Elena tried to find her house slipper under Nick's bed that was sadly kicked further under the bed frame as they all crowded and piled onto Nick;s bed. At the sound of Elena's descent down the stairs, he unlocked and opened the door and the two were out.

Matt kept his eyes on the TV, "are you actually gonna start packing? We just woke up."

As if it was evidence to prove Matt's statement, Chris starts to yawn which makes his brother chuckle.

"I mean. I might actually. I need to know what I need to wash before we leave. Speaking of which, where are my pajama pants? I'm missing, like, 4 pairs."

"Check my closet later."

"Mmkay."

With that, Chris gets up to head to his room, he turns on his light and his TV to play music. As Drake plays through his TV speakers, he starts to aimlessly move around his room. And at this point, he was obviously a seasoned traveler with his frequent visits back to his hometown as well as his tour experience– this wasn't new to him and he had come up with a checklist for each time he visits to make sure he has everything. As he goes through the motions, his mind starts to drift, the music no longer becoming a distraction but rather the background music to his thoughts.

What the everliving fuck did Roman mean that Chris hasn't realized he likes Elena?

Well, of course he likes Elena! They're friends! But he knew that's not what Roman meant, which confused him further. Did he really like her romantically? There's no way! He had disliked her for so long. But, as Chris begins to recall about his past resentment towards her, he really couldn't pinpoint why he kept up with it for so long.

The first night that they had ever met, Chris was in a shit mood, he can admit that. Him and Matt were running duos, as he so kindly told her, and it was like every time Chris would go out of his way to reboot Matt, he would die a good 30 seconds later. He was frustrated to say the least, because was Matt playing blindfolded or something? The frustration got to him, and in the middle of shooting someone who had been trying to kill his character, that's when he hears the sound of a fist colliding with their front door.

First of all, who the fuck is that? Second of all, there's no fucking way Matt died again, no way in hell. Third of all, who the fuck is still knocking?