the art of friendship
- - -
By the time our complementary weekly Game Night arrived, I'd mostly forgotten about the latest addition to our customers list. Fluffy brown hair, sharp face and the loveliest brown eyes on the planet. And the tattoos? Yeah, I'd totally forgotten about the man who was stunning without even trying, and was well prepared to watch Drix end Sacha's winning streak.
"You're not the Pizza guy. Where the fuck is the food?" Hendrix snapped me out of my daze. As always, she have me the warmest of welcomes. "And why the fuck are you smiling like that? Stop doing that, I'm scared."
"You tell me," I replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're the host."
"Sacha ate all the food like the fat bastard he is."
"You had a bag of chips! As in a single bag of chips." My little brother shouted from his spot on the couch.
I stared at Hendrix flatly, "That's it?"
She grinned mischievously, eyes unconsciously drifting to her girlfriend as her lips tugged up further. I almost gagged at the implication. "I was a little busy. Blame Jem, they live here too."
My stare turned to them expectantly, to which Jem responded by shrugging. "Hendrix isn't the only one who's been busy."
"Ugh!" Sacha exclaimed, horrified as he stared at everyone with wide eyes. "Can you all just die?"
I rolled my eyes. Sacha barely ever left our apartment other than for band practise or game night, which Hendrix invited him too once without my knowledge so we'd been stuck with him since. Game night, as a name, tended to be an exaggeration too. Usually, the night activities extended to Jem, Ali and I eating pizza while Hendrix and Sacha bashed Call Of Duty, with me taking Hendrix's place when she needed food or Ali's attention.
Nevertheless, it was an improvement from when Sacha didn't live in the city. We used to spend the nights playing spin the bottle but instead of either taking a shot or kissing someone, we'd have a random video game to play.
Hendrix just laughed at Sacha's misery, throwing her gamepad at him and just narrowly missing. He let out a loud squeal, shoving himself away from where the controller had landed as Hendrix just laughed harder.
The expression of horror on Sacha's face reminded me of a moment from one of our writing nights, when I suggested writing a ballad instead of a typical rock anthem. A part of me wanted to ask if the nameless man from the bakery liked music? He seemed to give off the typical rock and roll aesthetic but maybe it was just me being judgemental, as usual.
"You're kinda scaring me, Saint Nick."
I snapped out of my thoughts, raising a brow at Hendrix, who was now sitting on Ali's lap. Her pink hair was braided, which she usually did when her roots started to appear and she was due another hair change. I wondered what color she was going to go with this time.
"Huh?"
"Why do you keep doing that? I'm not going to lie, it's weird."
"Doing what?"
"Smiling."
My brows furrowed, "I always smile. I'm a joy to be around."
"You're really not." She kissed her teeth, eyeing me suspiciously. "And you don't usually smile like that."
"Are you done psychoanalysing me? I want pizza."
An hour and half later, the pizza had arrived and Hendrix and Sacha were halfway through a round on Call Of Duty. Jem let out a very dramatic groan, drawing all of our attention to them.
"What is up with you now, bitch?" Hendrix snarked, not taking her eyes off the screen for a second.
That's another thing that always happened. Hendrix and Jem were best friends, I mean they do live together, but they were awful to one another. They were both as good as blood to me, but they acted more like siblings than I did with Sach.
"I want to go out. You're all so boring." Jem complained, sighing in a way that was dramatic enough to give Hendrix a run for her money.
Aaliyah was the oldest by two years but Jem was the oldest out of the three of us, and tended to show it the least. Hendrix was calmer around Ali, undeniably sweetened by Ali's unnaturally quiet persona, but Jem never really dimmed down. They were a Literature student, which meant that they spent many nights at Student Bars arguing with the general population about Politics and why Shakespeare was a 'fake ass bitch'. They weren't the best when it came to accounting and business stuff, but if I ever needed a contract checking they'd make American English their bitch.
"I could go out, to be honest." Ali spoke up for the first time. She twirled her finger around one of Hendrix' braids before checking her own hijab. She's gone with a light pink color today, matching Hendrix. Her next words are directed at her girlfriend, making Hendrix smile at her. "It's been a while since we've gone to a bar, sweetheart."
"I vote no." Sacha raised his hand, "Are you really going to leave me here because Jem can't go a day without drinking?" He looked at us expectantly.
"Yes." Hendrix said without hesitating while I nodded my head. "Why should we suffer just because you're not twenty one?"
"Because I-"
"Let's go." Jem jumped up, cutting Sacha off and running a hand through their hair as they grabbed their jacket. Hendrix followed suit, pulling Ali up with her as I sent a sheepish smile to my brother.
"You can invite the boys over to ours?" I offered as an alternative, knowing I'd made the right choice when his eyes lit up. "Just don't touch my shit."
Sacha just grinned cheekily, trailing behind us as we locked up Hendrix and Jem's apartment.
Even though it was late, later than our usual going out time, the street lights lit up the sidewalk. New York City always looked so alive at night, it was one of the reasons why I loved it so much. Back in the Country, where I grew up, the night was always eerily quiet. I never liked how silent the world was during the night, having never been a person who found sanctuary in the quietness.
The moment the bar became visible in our general vicinity, Hendrix took off in a sprint, singing some stupid song at the top of her lungs as Ali just rolled her eyes and headed after her. Jem wasn't far behind them as I just shook my head, not surprised by her at all. Hendrix was one in a million, and her personality basically screamed major crackhead energy. If I didn't know her well enough by now, I'm sure I'd be convinced that she was either on hard drugs or clinically insane.
Or both.
She was honestly the best person I knew. Optimistic in a way that I could never be but with just enough pessimism to be realistic. Fiercely loyal and confident - the best type of person to be around on a bad day. She might take digs at people and joke around, but we all knew it was just her way of loving us.
I went into the bar, and headed over to an empty booth, setting out to locate my friends.
I found Hendrix first. She practically skipped away to the patio, hand-in-hand with Aaliyah, and right past Jem, who caught my eye whilst they stood at the bar.
They smirked at me, gesturing to the arrays of liqueur and I just shook my head, knowing that even if I didn't want to drink, Jem would've bought me something.
But then something next to them caught my eye.
A girl was sitting not even two metres away from Jem, trying to settle herself on a boy's lap. He seemed to be pushing her away, which was different from the usual crowd I see in here because she was hot. Hendrix would be all over her if Ali didn't exist, that's something I knew for certain. He turned away from her advances again, and it captured Jem's attention as they undoubtedly made a bitchy comment to the girl. She huffed, disappearing into the crowd, as Jem started up a conversation with the stranger. Two drinks were handed to them, and then I felt two pairs of eyes on me.
And then I realized.
I squinted, the vibrant hue of the disco lights hurting my eyes as I tried to make out the stranger's face.
Please tell me it's not him.
Please, please, please.
The guy from the Bakery. The guy who Hendrix wouldn't let me hide from. He was sitting at the bar, with what looked like a bottle of water in front of him. My stomach churned, and I shook my head internally because they were already heading over to me and I was going to scream.
He caught my eye before he reached the table I was sitting at. Jem practically collapsed into the chair across from me, and the stranger moved to sit next to me.
Am I being stalked? Do I need to call 911?
Adrenaline coursed up my spine, leaving me on high alert as I tensed up. I was going to fucking kill Jem for this, what the fu-
"Saint?"
Oh god, what if he tried to flirt with me?
"Saint?"
Was it too late to run?
I heard a raspy chuckle from beside me and I hated every inch of my life. It was him. It was definitely him. That laugh, the same one that I heard when he saw my discomfort at the bakery. Low and a little rough, callous in places that still made it sound soothing. It was dimmed slightly from the music, but I knew.
"What?" I snapped, directing a glare straight at Jem as I began to envision methods that I could use to kill them.
"You're so rude." Jem tutted, a teasing smile on their face. And that's when I was a hundred percent certain that Hendrix roped them into this. That this was her ploy, and the exact reason why I currently couldn't see her or Ali. It'd explain why she was so willing to leave the house for once. "Saint, meet Kareem. Kareem, this dumbass is Saint."
"Saint, huh?" He smiled, showcasing his white teeth and wide grin.
I wanted to curl up and cry. If my Y chromosome had an extra leg in a parallel universe, I would be certain that my hypothetical ovaries would've exploded.
I hated my life.
"Yup. That's me." I sent him a tense smile back, twisting one of my rings around my finger.
"Nice to finally meet you." Kareem said with a knowing smirk. "Jem here tells me that you're celebrating."
"Yeah, celebrating their funeral." I groaned, just before Jem cut me off.
"Oh is that Hendrix? I think it is. See you later."
What?
"Jem!" I hissed, as they jumped up and practically evaporated. "Oh my god."
"You look like you're having fun."
"I feel like a freakin' Soccer Mom right now. I came out with three friends and now they're probably dead." Hopefully.
And then he laughed again. Loud, and brazen, and so hot. The slight rasp that echoed throughout his body as his shoulders shook has my knees weak.
"Guess it's a good thing they ran into me, huh." Kareem joked, the corner of his mouth lifted.
"Jury's still out on that one, dude." I shrugged, rolling my eyes.
I need to leave.
"Kareem Murad, but you can call me Kaz."
"Huh?"
"My name." He deadpanned, rolling his eyes right back at me. His hand was wrapped around the water bottle, and I caught sight of the dark ink encasing the skin peeking out from his jacket, wrapping around his knuckles.
Big hands.
"I didn't ask." I blinked.
His eyes lit up in surprise, and I caught the amusement in his tone instantly. "Oh really? Do I not get to know the name of the man I'm getting to know?"
The implication of his words almost made me blush, but I managed to contain it. I'm going to kill Hendrix slowly. "Hm."
"Oh, c'mon."
"Fine, fine. Saint."
"Well I already know that."
"Then why did you ask?" I rebutted, narrowing my eyes jokingly. "Fine. It's Saint Clément."
"Oui oui!" He exclaimed, throwing his head back laughing immediately at the look of disgust spreading across my face. God, so he's the sort of person who laughs at his own jokes. "Fuck, you look like I've just told you a puppy's died."
Stupid fucking French name.
Cheers Dad.
"I don't know what I'd prefer, but I'd rather you never did that ever again." My top lip curled over at his awful French accent, I cringed. A part of me wished that my parents would've taught me the language just so I could cuss him out.
I'd be unstoppable if I was bilingual.
"I'll have you know, I've been told my French is exceptional."
"Exceptional sounds more like 'congratulations for not being terrible', rather than an actual compliment."
"Wow," He barked out a laugh again, not even flinching at my sarcasm. "Remind me to never get in an argument with you."
"If only my dumbass friends realized that, my life would be a lot better."
"The one with pink hair, she works at the bakery with you right?"
And there I was hoping he wouldn't have recognized me. "Unfortunately for mankind."
"She seems nice," He shrugged, smiling. I started to question whether it was just a permanent mark on his face. "She seemed to be having fun with her girlfriend before Jem came over to the bar."
"It's a trap." I deadpanned, referring to his first statement. I continued. "Hendrix's pretty useless when she's around her girl, I'm used to it by now."
"I mean, isn't everyone?" Kareem mused, leaning on his forearms that were resting on the table. "She actually recommended this place to me the last time I saw her."
Of course she fucking did.
"Oh, she didn't mention it." I was going to kill her. "Did she really recommend a bar to a person who doesn't drink?" I nodded my head towards his water. I was going to kill her slowly.
Maybe Sacha would help.
Deceased. Completely deceased.
His eyebrows shot up, "How would you know that I don't drink? I could just be staying sober tonight."
"I call it Einstein level intelligence, you might refer to it simply as a guess."
Laughing, he settled with a soft look on his face. "You come here often then?"
"Not really," I answered easily, deciding to take a sip of my drink in order to distract me from panicking. "Jem just wanted to go out and Hendrix followed. I would've preferred to stay in. So why is someone who doesn't drink in a bar?"
"Still not letting that go?" He asked, despite it being said like a sentence. "The atmosphere, mainly. It's been a while and I'm new to New York so I thought it wouldn't hurt to meet some new people."
New to the city? That explains a lot.
"Considering that you've been to Dexter's quite a lot within the last week and haven't conversed much with the other customers, I'd assume that meeting new people isn't on your list of priorities." I pointed out rather bluntly.
"Well, the only person I wanted to converse with decided to hide in another room so really who is really at fault here?" He responded immediately, eyebrows raised as I couldn't fend off the flush spreading up my neck and onto my cheeks. Damn, I thought I'd been discrete. "You're lucky the food is so nice otherwise I might not have come back. Kudos to the baker."
I almost preened at the compliment, not quite knowing how to respond. One part of me was absolutely ecstatic that he liked my baking while the other was trying not to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world for the rest of my life.
Thinking back to my experiences with my first boyfriend, I couldn't help but notice the tiny parallels between us. Suddenly, I'm reminded of why I haven't been in a relationship since High School and I can't breathe.
Comfortable silence has never been a part of me but as I sit here with Kareem, my thoughts transpiring into something that I don't want to acknowledge, I can't help but feel envious of those whose instinctive reaction to harmless flirting isn't panic. Those who can sit in silence with others and feel anything but the crushing weight of the water encasing them in an abyss of darkness.
The past tended to come back at the most random of times. But now I couldn't help but wish for a different narrative.
A/N
i adore kareem so much.
i can't wait for you guys to see more of them both!
all the love