Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

-Florence + the Machine

Smoke curled into the night air, evaporating within minutes and leaving no trace. Watchful eyes sparkled with hope and wonder, longing to disappear and leave nothing behind just as the smoke blown out between chapped lips did. A shaking hand held the cigarette and the hope faded from those watchful eyes, leaving a dull blue that stared vacantly at the lights of the city beyond her window. A hand went to her hair, releasing it from a loose bun so that blonde locks cascaded down past her shoulders to rest against her back.

A heavy sigh broke the silence in her room and she turned from the window, leaning back against the sill so that she faced her bed. There, a black dress was laid out, wrinkled in some places from the lack of an iron. Memories flooded her thoughts, that same black dress having had made an appearance months earlier. And that was what she needed—for those memories to resurface and send her spiraling into a state where she reached for the tequila bottle without a second thought.

It was her own personal test, and yet she was failing, as she didn't run out of her room and to the kitchen. Instead, she slid down to the floor, eyes locked on the dress as she continued to torment herself. He would've grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Not because he was going to comfort her. No—never something so simple and kind and just fucking pretty. It would have been to tell her how pathetic she was for sitting on the floor resurfacing memories better left alone.

She pushed herself to her feet and forced herself to look away, turning to focus back on the city lights that shined through the dark; she likened it to the funeral that shone light on her life despite the fact that it brought a certain darkness she wasn't able to place. As she shook her head, she tapped the cigarette on the sill and flicked it out the window. Then she turned back to the dress and grabbed it, carrying it away to a box in the living room that was still left unpacked.

Making her way into the kitchen, she repeated the same statement over and over again in her head, trying to say it enough times so that she ended up believing it. This is only because I have nothing better to do, not because of him. The words were etched into her mind by the time she pulled the bottle of tequila out of her alcohol cabinet and turned on her iPod dock. Music immediately started blasting and she swayed her hips along to the song as she took a long drink from the bottle.

A loud knock sounded and she dropped the bottle to the ground in surprise, cringing as it shattered. She shut off the music, face reddening as she went to open the door for who she believed was going to be security telling her about all the noise complaints she was causing. However, when she opened the door, she found herself staring at a stranger who was anything but security.

"Hi, I'm Chloe!" the woman at the door exclaimed.

"That's…wonderful. Why are you here?"

"Are you Aubrey Posen?" Chloe asked. The blonde nodded her head. "I'm here on behalf of my boss, Bumper Allen. He owns the coffee shop that you applied to for a job."

"Oh, right. You don't just call the people who apply?" she inquired.

"Sometimes we do. I just thought that people would like good news in person, though. I do."

"Good news? Does that mean that I've been accepted?" A bit of happiness pulled her from the thoughts that drove her towards the tequila and mini dance party.

"Yeah. You can start tonight, if you're available," Chloe told her, pushing past her and into the small apartment. Her eyebrows raised as she saw the puddle of tequila and shattered glass. "What happened?"

"I dropped tequila—why are you in my house?"

"Your voice is pretty," Chloe stated, dropping down to look closer at the shards of glass.

"Are you a serial killer or something?" Aubrey asked. Chloe laughs and stands up as she shook her head.

"Are you going to come in tonight or should we just expect to see you tomorrow?"

"Why is a diner even open at ten o'clock at night? When you close?"

"We don't. We're a twenty-four hour café and diner. I think that's what we're called. I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, are you coming in tonight or not?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Make sure you get dressed. Bumper's a perverted little shit, but even he won't want someone who looks like a prostitute to be working in the shop."

Aubrey looked down to see what she was wearing and her face immediately turned bright red as she realized that she had been wearing nothing but a robe thrown over her lingerie. After casting her an amused look, Chloe looked around the living room before settling on the couch.

"I can give you a ride over there," she offered.

"No offense, but I'm still not entirely sure if you're a murderer or not," Aubrey deadpanned.

"First I'm a serial killer and now I'm just a murderer? I need to step up my game. Seriously, though, I'm giving you a ride. Don't be a dick—save the environment."

Rolling her eyes, Aubrey walked back to her room, leaving the mess on the floor as she tried to clear her thoughts. Even without the appearance of Chloe, it was already going to be a long, restless night. Spending it at a café was probably better use of her time rather than throwing a drunken dance party with herself and eventually getting yelled at by security.

Her reflection blinked back at her in the mirror, giving an accusing look at the offensive shirt that she wore. Written in white letters on the black fabric was Bumper's. She had yet to meet her new boss, though from what Chloe had told her, she didn't want to. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed her way out of the bathroom and to the front counter.

Chloe was waiting for her there, leaning against a wall as she ignored impatient customers. A brunette woman worked next to Chloe's station, taking double the orders of those that wished to grab something to-go and leave the café behind them. Aubrey wasn't able to blame them; with one less employee working, there was hardly enough people to take care of all the customers coming in. She was surprised to see so many people coming in what she would have expected to be a close to rundown café.

She refrained from telling Chloe that she should have been helping out, and instead spun in a slow circle at Chloe's request to show off her uniform. Though it was hardly to be a uniform—a pair of jeans and the new shirt that Chloe had to pay for because she forgot to tell Aubrey that she had to purchase the shirt once she got there.

A door slammed shut and Aubrey turned her attention towards the back room that connected to behind the counter. Chloe scoffed as a man walked towards them, and Aubrey wasn't sure if he was angry or if that was just the expression he wore naturally. It was then that Aubrey realized this was probably Bumper Allen, and she straightened up to look professional. He eyed her carefully.

"Are you Aubrey Posen?" She nodded. "How long are you staying on shift tonight?"

"How long am I supposed to stay on shift?" she questioned, shooting him a confused look.

"When someone else comes in, you can leave, just as long as you beat the others to it," he said before walking back to the room that he had came from. Aubrey turned to Chloe.

"What does that mean? How do the shifts even work?"

"This is a privately-owned café, and Bumper's an idiot and doesn't know how to keep his employees in check. So, basically, as long as there are three other people working, you can leave as long as you've worked at least three hours for a requested six hour shift, four hours for a requested seven hour shift, and so on. You'll still get paid for the amount of time you were originally supposed to work, though."

"That hardly makes any sense," Aubrey told her.

"Yeah, well, it is what it is. No one really questions it since it's a pretty good deal. Anyway, get to work. That old guy over there has been here for like fifteen minutes and no one's gone to take his order yet," Chloe told her, slapping her ass as to encourage her to move faster.

Aubrey made her way towards the man, forcing a smile as she approached him. He tore his eyes from the newspaper in his hands to look up at her through his glasses. "What can I get you?" she asked.

"I'll have a coffee, regular," he said. "That's all." She nodded and retreated back to the counter to relay the order to Chloe.

"Chloe, are you coming to my party tonight?" someone asked. Aubrey turned to see the brunette from earlier approaching them.

"I thought it wasn't until tomorrow night," Chloe replied.

"It's tonight. We're going to that club in Bakersville. Me, you, Jesse, Fat Amy, and Stacie. Lily and Cynthia-Rose can't make it," the woman said.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be there, don't worry. Wait! Can my friend come?" Chloe asked excitedly, motioning to Aubrey, who stood there dumbfounded. "This is Aubrey. Aubrey, this is Beca."

"Yeah she can come," Beca said. A customer called out to Beca. "Gotta go." She sauntered off and Aubrey turned towards Chloe once she was out of earshot.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Invite me."

"Because there happens to be a puddle of tequila and a broken bottle in the middle of your living room floor, seeping through the carpet and eventually through the wood of your floor. And if the fact that you didn't even bother to clean it up doesn't prove how lonely you probably are, I don't know what will."

"That still doesn't answer my question. Why did you invite me? You don't even know me, and we're less than friends," she said. She wasn't trying to be offensive—that was her last intention. People have never treated her as kindly, and if the past three years was any indication, people never would without having hidden meaning to.

"Because you're alone and seem like you could use a friend. And you willingly agreed to work the night shift. Being here is a total waste of time and if you don't plan on sleeping you may as well just come and get wasted with us for Beca's twenty-second birthday. Anyway, I'm going to finish taking care of a bunch of idiot customers and then I'll drive you home so that you can get ready."

"I thought we can't leave unless there are three other people?"

"There will be once I call a few of the people that work here. Everyone loves me and they're all willing to do favors for me," Chloe said.

"You seem a bit unpleasant."

"I'm not as much of a bitch as that just made me sound, I promise."

Aubrey was starting to get bored. She watched silently as Chloe and Beca interacted, speaking and laughing obnoxiously loud. Only a few people turned their heads whenever the two began to have a laughing fit at a shared joke, and Aubrey wondered if the other customers weren't bothered by it or just gave up paying attention.

She rubbed her hand down her face before her head snapped to the entrance of the café at the sound of bells chiming. A man walked in—a face all too familiar for Aubrey. Her heart stopped and her breath caught in her throat. The man looked around, though he stopped once his eyes landed on her. A soft smile curled at his lips and he approached her slowly.

"Aubrey," he breathed out in a pleasant tone. She nodded. "It's good to see you. I'm actually about, um, James." His voice trailed off into a whisper at the name and Aubrey shifted uncomfortably. "There's new evidence that suggests it wasn't suicide."

"Really? Anything worth mentioning?" she asked quickly.

"I guess they had a specialist take a look at the letter. The handwriting doesn't match his own. The detective that came to talk with me didn't say it directly, but they think it was a homocide."

"A homocide? But who would have wanted to kill James? He was a nice guy—everyone loved him," Aubrey said.

"I shouldn't say this, especially about my own brother, but Aubrey—there was always a darkness about him that no one knew about. It was something bigger than me, than you, than everyone that knew him. And for anyone who ever figured it out—my thoughts and prayers go out to them." He paused to look around the shop once more. "I have to go. It's good to see that you're doing well, Aubrey."

"Well" was an overstatement, but she didn't bother to inform him of that as he turned his back to her and walked away. Hanging her head in thought, she walked to the bathroom, not bothering to stop and explain when Chloe asked her what the exchange was about. No—she couldn't stop, because that would mean tears, and the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of someone she didn't know.

Unfortunately, Chloe was one to press matters, and followed behind Aubrey closely until both of them were standing in the empty employees' bathroom. She wordlessly engulfed the blonde in a hug as Aubrey began to sob. Her body shook hard and although she tried to catch her breath, she never managed to. Chloe only held her tighter, her hand circling her back soothingly.

Pulling away, Aubrey tried to put as much distance between herself and Chloe as possible. "Sorry," she muttered, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "I hate crying in front of people. I didn't think you'd follow me."

"Oh—sorry, then, for following you," Chloe said nonchalantly, trying to play it off. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine. Thanks."

"Not to sound insensitive or anything, but it looks like now you have an even better reason to get wasted with us tonight," Chloe pointed out. Despite everything, Aubrey somehow found it in herself to let out a laugh that echoed against the beige walls of the bathroom, and Chloe joined her.

"Will you help me pick something to wear?" she asked, immediately regretting the question, thinking it was too weird. It was like she had been saying all night—she barely knew Chloe.

"Of course." Chloe's phone buzzed and she pulled it out, reading the text she had received before smiling and looking up at Aubrey. "Our escape has just arrived. Get changed; I'll drive us back to your apartment."

"Sounds like a plan," Aubrey said, walking out of the bathroom with Chloe.

Pairing: Chloe x Aubrey

Rating: T, will change in later chapters

Trigger Warning: This story will deal with alcohol, drugs, self-harm, and flashbacks of relationship abuse

This story will be updated every Sunday, though update time may be influenced by reviews.

The content of this story is subject to change (so, like, if I find errors randomly or want to change a paragraph, I'll go back and change it and then re-update this).