Maggie was a nervous wreck.
She chewed anxiously on her lip, fingers twisting with the loose string hanging from her chunky, knit cardigan, while she held her phone between her ear and shoulder. She was leaned up against the bathroom of the cafe, waiting for her friend to pick up.
A few torturous rings later, Natasha's voice came through the phone. "Hey. How's it going so far?"
"Nat, I'm sorry, but can't do this. The guy has been talking about fishing for the last half an hour. Where did you even meet him?" She forcefully whispered into the receiver.
She laughed on the other line. "He's a friend of a friend. If you're not into it, just tell him, Mags."
Letting out a stressed groan, she cringed at the thought of having to reject the guy to his face. Natasha had been trying to set her up on dates their whole adult life, but especially now that she was dating Steve. Although, she claimed it was just sex at first, the causal sleepovers had slowly carried over into mornings spent together, and then whole weekends at his house. They were almost a year deep in their relationship now.
Something about the fluffy honeymoon phase she was in, made Natasha want her best friend to be in the same boat as her. The two of them had been joined at the hip since elementary school. Thing was, they were incredibly different. Natasha had been gorgeous since she was young, always showered with male attention. She was smooth and knew how to flirt better than most.
Then there was Maggie. She spent most of her childhood with her head stuffed in a bulky novel or bent over her sketchbook. In middle school when the girls started getting curvier and taller, she stayed small and basically had the body of a little boy. Her reserved personality only perpetuated her major lack of romantic attention.
It wasn't until college that she started to grow into her beauty, leaving her practically oblivious to it. She stayed much shorter than average, but the contours of her body formed nicely. She had curly dark hair that fell down to her waist, her nose and cheeks were kissed with a splatter of freckles. Her beauty was subdued, but anyone that wandered to spare her a look was taken aback by it.
When she first started to grow out of her eighteen year 'awkward phase', she met her college boyfriend Elliot. Freshman year at Pratt, they bumped shoulders just outside of her sculpting class, making her topple over and crush her project. After helping her back up to her feet, he offered to help fix it, and the rest was history.
The relationship lasted a few years, but ended up being pretty toxic. Elliot was a raging alcoholic by the end of sophomore year, leaving Maggie abused and heartbroken.
Let's just say— the girl avoided most men for the next few years, leaving her where she is now. Hiding in the bathroom of a cafe. Having an anxiety attack about her blind date gone wrong.
"Will you please just call me back in like, five minutes? Say there's an emergency or something? I need an out."
Natasha sighed. "Fine... Pussy."
"Don't be mean."
"Whatever. Go back and talk to Kane for a bit, I'll come up with a good excuse, and then call you back in five." Natasha hung up before Maggie could answer.
Walking out of the bathroom, she tottered over to find her seat across from Kane. The cafe was one of her favorite spots in the city. She was excited for the date when he suggested it, but her hopes quickly flew out the window the second he opened his mouth.
"Sorry about that. Where were we?"
"I think I was telling you about my favorite fishing spots up north."
Maggie's eyes widened, smiling for him to go on. He continued where he left off, going on about his interest in fishing, which was something she had never even done. The subject was boring her, but her kind nature made her listen attentively.
Her hands wandered down to play with a lock of her long hair. Twisting it around her finger, untwisting it, then twisting it again. Mindlessly trying to calm herself down, knowing she was about to lie to the poor guy.
Five minutes on the dot, her phone started buzzing.
"D—Do you mind if I take this?"
Kane nodded. "Of course."
She smiled back, answering the phone. "Hello?"
"You owe me big time for this, Mags." Natasha spat into the phone.
"Hey, Grandma." Maggie faked a sweet tone, despite her hostile friend on the line.
She let out a loud laugh. Maggie quickly slid her hand up the phone to turn the volume down, so her date wouldn't catch the cackling. "Jesus christ, you suck at this. Just say you need to pick up your grandma since her car died or something."
Faking a worried look, she looked up at Kane with concern. "Okay, just stay where you are. I'll be there soon."
"I'm on my way to your place, bitch." Natasha said, hanging up on her again.
Pulling back from her phone, she looked up at him with an apologetic expression. He quickly caught on. "Is everything okay?"
"It's my grandma." Maggie started to grab her purse off the chair. "Her car broke down, so I have to go pick her up. I'm so sorry." She pulled the purse over her shoulder, standing from her seat.
"Oh no. Okay, I get it. You should go make sure she's okay. I'll call you."
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks for the coffee!" She called over her shoulder, as she booked it out of the cafe. The guilt of lying to him was terrible, but she was way too self-conscious to reject him halfway through the date.
Hopping onto the ever-convenient New York subway, she sat with her legs tightly crossed and her arms folded, taking up as little space as possible. She saw an older woman hobbling through the crowded space, so she swiftly stood up to offer her seat.
As with everything she did in life, she was selfless. Never wanting to inconvenience anyone. Holding on tight to the rail as she stood, swaying with the movements of the car.
Walking carefully up the steps onto the street, she trekked down a few blocks to her place. She lived alone in an apartment in Greenwich Village. It was nothing extravagant, but she loved it.
The whole apartment was decorated in a colorful, quirky style. Funky art covered the walls of her living room, paired with her brightly colored couch. Thin windows looked out over the city from the fifth floor. She'd often crawl through them out onto the fire escape and draw or read.
Her favorite part of the place was her studio. Living alone with two bedrooms allowed her to use the larger of the two as her own art room. The back wall was covered with windows, while the others were covered in her completed work. Half finished paintings sat perched on easels, while her long worktable held various different mediums. From clay to oil paints to charcoal. The floor was covered in pieces of canvas material to protect the hardwood floors from paint splatter. It was her own little sanctuary.
When she got to her door, it was already unlocked. Stepping inside to find Natasha lounging back on her couch, holding a half full glass of rosé.
"Jeez, Mags. Took you long enough."
"How'd you get here so fast, Nat?" Maggie tucked away her keys and hung her bag on the hook by the door.
Natasha pulled away from her glass, mid sip. "I was at Steve's office."
Steve was an executive at some company over on Wall Street, so his office was about ten minutes away from Maggie's apartment. Faster than Natasha's usual commute. She lived over in Williamsburg with a roommate she despised, so she was always crashing on Maggie's couch, up until she met her boyfriend. Now her time was evenly split between the two.
Although, she definitely favored Steve's place. He lived in the Financial District in a gorgeous penthouse. Natasha gushed over the views of the city and found any excuse she could to stay over there.
She fell for Steve hard and fast. He had attended her ballet performance and was hooked from the moment she took the stage. He stayed back afterwards to find her and they've been practically inseparable ever since. The guy was friendly and handsome. He was strongly built, standing well over most other men. It also was a plus that he was conveniently rich, but she would never admit that.
Maggie was happy for her. She had seen Natasha date mass amounts of men over the years and she never thought they were good enough for her friend. One evening, Steve took the two of them for dinner so they could meet. He was a classic gentleman, paying respectful compliments, making agreeable conversation, and paying at the end of the meal. All in all, Maggie ardently approved. They would have occasional dinners all together, creating a genuine friendship more recently.
"Did you really wear that to the date?"
Maggie looked down at what she was wearing, confused. She wore a chunky purple cardigan over a white floral print dress, with a pair of Doc Martens. "I like this outfit."
"Fucking shit, Mags. You look like a schoolgirl. And not in a good way."
Offended by the statement, Maggie shot a frown back at her. "What was I supposed to wear? It was just a coffee date."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Babe, you always forget how insane your body is. You're hot. Quit dressing like a toddler with a credit card."
She had said that to Maggie a thousand times before. Every time they went shopping together Natasha tried to get her to try on sophisticated pieces, but it wasn't her taste. She loved thrifting her closet, picking out unique pieces no one else had. Her whole wardrobe was filled with pastels and weird patterns, while Natasha's just looked neutral and boring to her.
After changing out of her inadequate outfit, into some pajamas, she sat down beside Natasha on the couch, pouring herself a glass of rosé.
"Are you still coming to the showcase tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Natasha took a long sip, then resting her head on top of Maggie's. "Mind if I bring Steve?"
"I assumed you would."
Maggie worked at a local art gallery as a curator for the last two years of her life. Her boss, August, did everything in his power to make those two years unbearable, but she was too much of a pushover to ever do anything about it. He pushed all of his responsibilities as owner onto her, leaving her to basically run the place, without any of the benefits.
The showcase had taken up her entire life for the last month. She worked on her days off, reaching out to local artists to pull more work for the exhibit. The reason she was so nervous for it though, was that one of her own pieces was being displayed for the first time.
After asking August nearly everyday since the first day he hired her, Maggie was finally getting some recognition for her talent as an artist. She worked tirelessly on her painting in between her hours of work for her boss. It was finally completed the week before and he begrudgingly agreed that he would allow her to display it.
Despite the feeling of achievement, she was painfully anxious to put herself out there. The gallery events usually attracted New York's wealthiest crowd. People that could spend disgusting amounts of money on a painting that would sit in the guest room of their billion dollar mansion and they'd never look at again, just because they could.
"Steve said he would spread the word to some of his work friends. They're all richer than God, so hopefully that'll help roll in the dough."
"Ugh, good. Hopefully that'll ease August off my back for a bit. I love my job, but I wish I had more time for my own art."
"No, you just need to quit already." Natasha shot up from her spot and turned to Maggie, filled with energy to motivate her. "You're already running the gallery for him, so you know how to do everything. Why not open your own?"
"I don't have the money for that."
"What about your inheritance? I'm sure that would help."
Maggie had inherited money after her mom passed away. Her father had left before she could walk, leaving the two of them. Her mom was the ultimate free-spirited hippy, that had a passion for anything creative, so naturally she was the one that encouraged Maggie to pursue a career in the arts.
Tragically, she passed away in a car accident just as Maggie had just moved to New York from San Francisco for her first year at Pratt. She was tempted to quit school and move back home to be with her grandma, but she knew her mom would've been disappointed in her, so she persevered. Although her spirit was completely broken, having Natasha around made it sting a little less.
Natasha had been accepted to Juilliard, so the two of them lived together in a crappy little apartment in East village. They lived off ramen and tap water, working long hours at bars and coffee shops. Natasha even worked as a stripper for a bit, but Maggie nearly died at the thought of being naked in front of a room of strangers, so she opted out of that, settling for a bookstore down the street from their apartment.
After graduating, each of their careers started up. Eventually, Maggie had used a bit of her inheritance to move out on her own, leaving Natasha to move in with one of her old dance friends from school. She was fine with it though, since Maggie never protested when she asked to stay over.
"I use it to help pay my rent and I'm saving the rest just in case I really need it some day. It's called being responsible, Nat."
"No, Mags. It's called settling." She arched a judgmental brow at her petite friend. "You need to stop doubting yourself. If you opened your own gallery, it would blow August's shithole out of the water."
"Hey. I still work at that shithole, so watch it. And even if I did use my inheritance, it wouldn't cover it all."
"Whatever. Just think about it."