Sabrina Alexander fought back a yawn, her fingers deftly clutching the pen and pad as she awaited the elderly couple's decision on their order. Her dark eyes roamed the elegant restaurant, each passing minute weighing heavier on her weary frame. She was so, so sleepy.
Exhaustion gnawed at her, a consequence of her own doing. She had spent the entire night poring over her history textbooks, losing track of time with every page turned. She never had enough time in a day. Balancing two demanding majors majors—History and Pre-Law—was proving to be quite the challenge.
It wasn't until the morning light filtered through the windows that she realized her predicament. She had managed a mere hour of sleep, evident from her tired, puffy eyes and dark circles that defied the cover of makeup. And the atmosphere of the restaurant, as beautiful as it was, hadn't helped in the slightest. On the contrary, if anything, it made everything worse.
The gentle light flowing through large windows, casting the space in warm amber hues, and the ethereal classical music fluttering in the background created a relaxed ambiance that made the exhausted young girl much sleepier than she already was.
Sabrina shifted slightly, hoping the customers didn't feel rushed by the action.
La Fleur Lunaire was a Michelin-starred restaurant that boasted an assortment of upscale clientele; businessmen and celebrities who reserved their tables months in advance. Their meals cost a small fortune, with many plates costing well over her monthly grocery budget. The fragrant wines that touched their lips were just as costly, hailing from various corners of the world.
And more importantly, after a wonderful evening in the scenic restaurant, the upscale clientele left a very generous tip.
She had amassed enough savings for a deposit on an apartment and at least eight months of rent from tips alone. So, all she had to do was find a place. Without the favor of Mrs. Özyıldız, she would never have gotten such a well-paying job as a college student or an internship at her husband's law firm next semester.
The sleepy girl squared her shoulders and tucked her chin with that thought in mind. Then, her gaze shifted back to the table before her, and just in time. The indecisive couple turned to her, pleasant smiles as warm as sunlight. She took their orders and briefly returned to the kitchen before returning to the dining area and preparing to face another table.
Mustering up the mental strength she needed, she managed the same saccharine smile. Her husky voice filtered through the air with feigned enthusiasm, "Welcome to-" Her voice died down as she realized just who she was serving.
Leyla Özyıldız and Anastasia Petrova.
Her closest friends stared up at her, eyes glittering mischievously. By the satisfied looks on their faces, her surprise was exactly what they wanted to see.
Long-time family friends with the restaurant owner, it was easy for Leyla to gain access to the coveted space with a single call. She should have expected something like this. But the sight still floored her. Whose reservation was canceled for this drop-in?
"Ms. Petrova. Ms. Özyıldız." Her deadpan voice betrayed the bright smile on her lips. If her manager were to see her, Sabrina would be the picture-perfect server. "How may I help you this evening?"
Anastasia's eyebrow lifted in amusement at her friend's curt demeanor, a subtle smirk playing at the edges of her lips. "My goodness, Ms. Alexander, what's with the tone? Is this how you usually greet your customers?"
"Hardly. They leave tips. And considering it's you two, I'm bracing for stress."
Despite their feigned innocence, seated innocuously at her table, Sabrina knew better than to believe they were up to anything good. Their unexpected appearance typically spelled disaster, often in the form of a party she had no interest in attending, dressed in attire she loathed, surrounded by acquaintances she barely remembered or never even met.
"So, are you ordering, or should I prepare myself for a dramatic exit?"
"Terrible customer service, babe. Terrible," Leyla chimed in, her eyes betraying her amusement, always seemingly at Sabrina's expense. "I demand to speak to the manager."
Sabrina couldn't help but roll her eyes at the request. Audacity was something the two were never short of, especially in each other's company.
"Right," Sabrina drawled casually, folding her arms, her eyes flicking between the socialites. "And when I hunt him down, I'll let him know about my devoted fan club that's taken to stalking me, even following me to work. You might've seen them? Tall, pale, and oh so clingy?"
Leyla rolled her eyes dramatically. "Stalkers?" She brushed a few dark strands away from her shoulder with a flick of her hand. Leaning back in her seat, a hint of arrogance glinted in her eyes, as if it were her birthright. "You wish you were relevant enough."
"Oh, really?" Sabrina's tone dripped with wry sarcasm as she leaned forward slightly, her expression cool and collected. " Somehow, I don't think my relevance is up for debate. Who was it that showed up at my job again?" She raised an eyebrow, a hint of taunting superiority laced through her words. "Your clinginess, though? A very poignant topic. It's probably why you're stalking me."
Leyla scoffed, her arms crossing in a gesture that spoke volumes about the impending storm of her dramatic temperament. "You're insufferable—"
"Pot, meet kettle."
Anastasia's laughter rang out, her smugness adding fuel to the fire. "Oh, come on, lapochka. Don't be that way, you've clearly missed us terribly. It's been, what, a whole week?"
Sabrina responded with a dry tone, "Mhm. Practically an eternity."
Despite her sarcasm, she couldn't deny, albeit reluctantly, that she had indeed missed her friends, as clingy as they tended to be.
The last time Sabrina had seen Stasi was three weeks ago, bidding her goodbye as the heiress boarded her private plane to France. Departing before the Thanksgiving Holiday to embark on a world trip, Stasi was determined to visit all of her favorite spots during those two weeks—Paris, Italy, London, Tokyo, Seoul. She inundated Sabrina with so many photographs that she almost felt as if she were there herself. Stasi even made a point to visit Sabrina's grandparents in Moata'a, bringing gifts and leaving with sweets.
The last she saw Leyla, the brunette was drinking the night away during the gala before Thanksgiving. It was more recent, but even that felt long. Having spent nearly every day together for the past six years, a couple of weeks felt like ages for the trio.
But that didn't mean the two could barge in on her job like debt collectors hunting for delinquent funds. And she knew better than to think they ambushed her simply because they missed her.
"Even if I did miss you, I know you too well." Sabrina retorted, "It's Saturday. You probably came to drag me to a party or a bar across town. It's the most consistent thing about you."
Their guilty silence was all the confirmation she needed.
"Now, unless you're going to order something, leave. You're taking valuable space from tipping customers."
Leyla clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Quit being difficult. Just listen to us."
"There's nothing to listen to. I already made it clear that the Thanksgiving gala was my last party of the year. And now you want to drag me out again? Not happening. I can't just drop everything because you want to go out, I have things to do. Important things."
Like studying, working, and reading. Mainly reading.
"Don't you get it? You never have any fun. All you do is bury yourself in books," Stasi complained, resting her chin in her hand. Her lips formed a perfect pout, a tactic she wielded like a pro. "Study, work, read, study, work, read...it's a never-ending cycle."
"I do plenty of things for fun."
A silent, disbelieving look passed between the two. She even cringed at how feeble it sounded.
Her hobbies might not align with her friends' idea of fun, but that was just fine by her. Sabrina had always been more introverted, preferring the quiet pleasures of life. It was in the way she navigated the world, and in the solitary activities she found solace in when the world wasn't watching.
While Leyla and Anastasia reveled in partying until dawn, Sabrina found her joy in baking. Bundt cakes, red velvet creations—anything her imagination could conjure. And when she wasn't baking, she was buried in her studies. She hadn't been born into the same privilege as her friends, couldn't afford to live their glamorous lifestyle. Instead, she found fulfillment in living vicariously through the pages of her beloved books.
Because the characters in those pages had never let her down.
But if she said that, she was sure they'd only use it against her.
"Mhm." Leyla's knowing tone was like a curse. "Like what? Read?"
They knew her so well it was annoying.
"Fun is subjective," Sabrina retorted, her lips forming a tight line as her discomfort grew. "And you didn't seem to mind my reading when I helped you pass English last semester, did you?"
Leyla's eyes narrowed at the reminder, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. It was the one blemish on her nearly perfect academic record. But before her temper could flare, she sighed.
"Go with us to that new bar downtown, okay?" she relented. "The bartender thinks you're cute, and he always gives you free drinks without asking for your ID. It's harmless."
"You don't need an ID. You have fakes," Sabrina retorted dryly.
Their fake IDs were practically works of art, so meticulously crafted they could pass for government-issued. They had held onto them for years, cherished possessions they guarded as if they were gold, until the day they turned twenty-one.
But the way Leyla and Stasi recoiled at the mention of their IDs suggested that their cherished fakes were no longer in their possession. Leyla grimaced, a mirrored expression crossing Stasi's face. So that's why they're here, harassing her like this.
"Oh, so you finally got caught with them?"
Leyla sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Turns out hiding them in a Chanel box isn't so smart when Ina decides to reorganize my closet. It was too short notice to get new ones. She told my mother, who told my father, and you can imagine how that went. They took my cards, Brina. My cards. It's a miracle I got them back so quickly."
And here she was, ready to risk her freedom for a night of drinking. Too bad, though. Sabrina wasn't budging. Not this time.
"I can't. I have to study."
Stasi's low, cynical laugh sounded. "If you study any more, you'll be an almanac, lapochka."
Leyla nodded. "Missing one night won't be the end of your GPA. And research shows that a healthy mixture of study and wholesome recreational activities is perfectly appropriate for students."
Her tone sounded as though she was reciting an article verbatim.
Leyla added with a hint of desperation, "Please, don't make me beg, it looks terrible on me."
They were chipping away at her resolve, and they knew they could break through. Leaning forward, Stasi added her own persuasion. "Come with us. If you do, we'll study with you. We'll be at your beck and call until our eyes roll back, and we die from boredom. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
It was tempting, Sabrina couldn't deny it. Studying with the wealthy was an entire ordeal, one with hired tutors, catered food, and professionally prepared materials. But still, it wasn't enough.
"And I won't be going to any parties until Spring," Sabrina added firmly.
"Deal," the two said in unison, grinning mischievously.
Bryn rolled her eyes, already regretting her agreement." We're done now, right? Get out of here." She turned on her heels, ready to go back to the kitchen and take her lunch break after their exhausting exchange.
"And don't be stingy," she glanced back, aiming her pin pointedly, "I deserve a tip."