Participants:
| Scene Title | Arguments Against Developing A Habit Of Rooftop Drinking |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Geneva and Emily spend some time catching up after months of adulting. |
| Date | June 8, 2019 |
Laudani-Epstein Townhome, Sheepshead Bay
The townhome Emily Epstein shares with her roommate doesn't have a roof to sit on per se, but that didn't stop the acrobatic-unafraid terrorist friends of Teo's from finding a way to make drinking on it a thing that worked. The second-story bedroom windows were set over a shunt of slanted roof, and carefully walking around the side of the building lead one to the porch overhang on which one could stand — at their own peril.
It must be reinforced or something, because it had comfortably supported two grown-ass adults larger than her and Geneva Stevenson only weeks ago, and Emily decides to chance a second visit up there, drinks and all.
Besides, Colette had a point. There was something to be said about the peace of the stars for solidifying a moment. And it was arguably better than huddling up on the couch playing video games.
As far as Emily is concerned, this is a moment worth solidifying, too. It had been too long since she and Geneva had last seen each other— work schedules and life events ensuring their paths would occasionally snare briefly, but never for long. Usually by text.
"I'm starting to become less of a fan of growing up," Emily admits, dark bottle sandwiched between palms to roll it back and forth on a track that's only several centimeters long. "This not having any free time thing is kind of bullshit."
"The fuck? Your new place is awesome."
…is the first thing Geneva had said upon entering and seeing Emily's new townhouse for the first time. Because it is, especially the rooflet bit they are both reclining on now, even if they aren't technically supposed to be up here. As is usual for her, she had completely disregarded the thought of any danger inherent in the suggestion, even though she hadn't yet seen proof that the structure could support two grown adults as Emily had. Who even cares about matters like that? It’s an opportunity to do something cool, and that’s the only thing that matters.
It’s a heck of a spot. A heck of a night, too, to be catching up with a friend seen face-fo-face only far too rarely in recent days.
Gene doesn't usually drink, either, but she had made a definite exception for this occasion. She had acquired a small flask of spiced rum from somewhere, and she takes a swig of the amber-colored liquid directly out of it as she enjoys the view.
"Yeah, you can say that again. Adulting sure sucks sometimes," she says, eyebrows raised high in flitting agreement. Then, a grin. "You gotta admit, though. The having money thing is also kind of nice."
At that, Emily lets out a snort of derision, however lighthearted. "Yeah, it must sure be nice having money," she teases, because she's sure not making bank being a student. "Though you've gotta be one of the richest people living in Park Slope at this point. It'll be nice when they've got the firehouse set up, won't it?" Sitting up a little straighter, Emily turns her eyes up to the stars.
She misses the aurora, sometimes. The sky was so beautiful then. It's not that the stars aren't any less impressive now, they're just … less colorful. Less immediate wonder to them, with the light pollution returning to New York.
Still, she admires them all the same.
"Hopefully Teo doesn't get home any time soon," she thinks aloud. "I doubt he'd judge us for being out here, but I'd be self-conscious all the same." She lets the words linger for a moment in silence before letting out a thoughtful hm, taking a sip of her beer. She doesn't like it, but it also just seems like the thing you're supposed to do— be young and drink.
"I was worried at first about this— really worried, actually," Emily admits. "But I'm glad moving out went as well as it did. I'm glad it wasn't the thing that tripped me up like my mom thought it would." She sounds a little tired as she adds, "Wasn't the last straw that made me regret not moving to KC with her."
"Oh yeah. Fuck, good point."
It's been a hot minute since Geneva has been any type of student herself, but she doesn't need to be one to appreciate the issue of money. Also a non-zero factor in why she would personally never consider being one again. She doesn’t even need to shake her head, instead letting out a laugh via a fledgling smirk. "Sure, Hailey and me are sitting at the top of the heap in Park Slope. But just barely. Couple of squirrels and the unwashed hobo two floors above us almost beat us out for the spot last week."
Despite this dig, she answers the second part of the statement more seriously: "Yeah, it'll be pretty nice to move out. Not that living without electricity and plumbing isn't fucking you know, fantastic, but it gets old."
There is a vague but very definitely dismissive wave of her hand at the prospect of concern at being judged by anyone, Teo or otherwise.
Unlike her counterpart, Gene finds herself far less impressed by the beauty of the stars than the wide slice of city block that spreads out just below where they are seated. It is hardly as though they are miles high, but still; the perspective is one that is just far enough removed to be highly interesting. "You don't talk about your mom that much. Do you still keep in touch with her a lot?"
"It's on and off," Emily admits, possibly with a smidge of guilt for the number and length of the 'off' periods. "A lot less than I used to. It's harder to talk with her after the fights we had before I left. It started with me finding out she'd lied about what my dad had been up to during the war and before. And then when I told her I wanted to move back home…"
She lifts her shoulders in a shrug that tries to pass for nonchalant, unaffected, even as her face scrunches in order to get through the mention of it. "She insisted I'd not be able to handle it. I might've believed her and not come, if I hadn't been so mad about everything else." Emily pauses to take a drink, trying to wave aside the cloud hanging over their relationship with that dismissive gesture. "She's still one of the smartest people I know, and I'm still proud of her and grateful for doing everything she has, raising me on her own, but I just don't know if we'll ever be the same. I'd like to patch things up, but every time we talk, the first or second time things are fine— and then she comes around with the 'well, I wish you would do this' or 'it would be really better if you…'"
The words cut off before any emotion can get packed into them, making them heavy and sharp, and Emily only shakes her head. She forces a small smile as she looks back to Geneva. "Can be just as shitty to still have parents around, I guess. She wasn't entirely lying about my dad, either— he did cheat on her. I found out I have a sister. You might even know her, she was sheltered by the Ferry. Berlin? It sounds like she might've spent more time south than north, though, growing up."
"Berlin. Why does that sound familiar? Yeah, you're right. She wasn't part of our group in New York. But, I know who she is. Wild that you're fucking sisters." At this point Geneva throws a very unsubtle sideways glance at Emily, as though gauging whether she's kidding or not. It's mostly only to accentuate the strength of her own incredulity, because she knows from Emily's tone that she isn't kidding.
The prospect of discovering a long-lost sibling is one that belongs firmly in the realm of Disney movies, or so Gene would have thought before this. As it is, she has difficulty fathoming the idea. She squints a direct line down to the curvature of asphalt far below, as if that will help her picture it.
Gene's voice becomes a little rougher around the edges now, an acknowledgement of the rougher subject area that she is broaching. It's her particular way of attempting to be halfway tactful. "For what it's worth… lord. I hope you make things work out with your mom. Your dad, too. No matter what either of 'em have done. Trust me, you don't want to see the day where you see one of them for the last time and your last thoughts about them were about some shitty-ass fight." Personal experience? Yeah, possibly.
Emily nods at Berlin sounding familiar. "Canada," she confirms, hoping the nudge might help. Then as to the comment that her surprise sister appearance is something out of a movie, she simply gives Geneva a bit of side eye while she drinks. Right? she asks with an emotive pop of her brow, drinking long from the beer bottle because fuck, it's been a time lately.
The comment about losing your parents while on bad terms stutters her actions, fingers tensing oddly around the bottle. For a moment Emily's robbed for words, not knowing how to address that. She remembers the loss Emily Raith had felt, crouching by her father's bodiless grave. She wonders for a moment too long if attempting to relate by sharing what she saw through that self's eyes is the right or wrong thing to do, if she should make some overture to promise she won't just … let things end badly with her parents, permanently. The way things had ended the last time she saw her father weighs even heavier on her mind than normal.
In the end, all that happens is the sweating bottle slips from her fingers and lands with a vibrant think while it rolls down the roof. "Shit," escapes Emily, trying to snatch for it, but gravity takes its toll. "Fuck."
The bottle shatters when it hits the plot below, and she draws a long face, letting out a sigh filled with regret. That wasn't going to be fun to clean up…
"Maybe we should get down," she suggests.