1995
"Urgh, another one." A young college student exclaimed in disgust as she dropped a handwritten note on the desk in the library her friend was studying at.
Her friend raised his curly brown haired head in surprise as he looked up at her to gauge her reaction. It wasn't unusual for Chelsea Callahan-O'Toole to receive notes passed to her from her admirers. But her reactions were different based on whether they had come from horny students trying their luck, or lonely boys knowing Chelsea was most likely out of their league. Boys she felt disgusted by got treated far differently than those she felt sorry for.
Chelsea was an extremely pretty girl and as such she got a lot of male attention. Rather than having smoldering runway model good looks she was more of a 'girl-next-door' type of beauty, with bright blue eyes, chin-length layered brunette hair and slightly faded freckles dotted across her nose. Because she seemed approachable she did get a lot of boys her age asking her out. She never seemed to know how to react to it.
Chelsea hadn't always been a good looking girl. She was the type who entered puberty as a slightly chubby and awkward looking thing, and had been bullied relentlessly at school. Therefore she was still getting used to the attention as a young adult and thus was a little naive at how she should handle certain situations.
"Let me read it." Chelsea's friend smirked as his eyes wandered over the note.
I can't keep my eyes off you. Meet me behind the library in 15.
"Do you want me to meet this person behind the library and show them my badge?" He asked her with a cocky smile.
"Cyrus Lupo! No! You only just became a patrolman. You're too new to get away with police brutality just yet." Chelsea half-joked.
Cyrus just smiled at his attractive friend.
Like a lot of their fellow classmates, he was completely smitten with her. He had only met her the previous semester. He was taking part time undergrad classes because he had a full time job - he was a patrolman for New York City's 27th precinct. His parents were unhappy with his career choice and insisted that he complete a college degree to keep his options open. Business had the highest flexibility so that's where he ended up. It also wasn't a bad choice to keep his doors open if he ever wanted to revisit his plan to go into law.
However unlike the other boys in their course, he hadn't ever tried to hit on her. When they first got talking she had spilled out that she just gotten out of an abusive relationship and thus he knew it would be inappropriate to try anything with her. So instead he became her friend and was waiting until a better time to try and become something more. He was under the impression that Chelsea was not aware of his feelings as she never seemed to do anything to indicate that she did. He was fine with this arrangement, for now at least. He could be her friend until he could be her boyfriend.
"I'm sorry Chels but I need to actually get going. I've got a shift that starts in forty five so I need to haul myself to the precinct and get changed into my uniform." Cyrus sighed as he checked his watch and noticed the time. One of his guilty pleasures was hearing Chelsea speak about rejecting their fellow students. He loved hearing about it, knowing that he wasn't one of them.
"Yeah, me too actually. I have a diner shift that starts soon too. Want to walk to the subway together?" Chelsea responded.
Cyrus fought the urge to grab her hand as he agreed to accompany her to the subway.
"Another fantastic dining experience as always." Mr Mitcham, one of Chelsea's regular customers complimented her as he left a small stack of notes on the counter.
"Thank you." Chelsea beamed, as Mr Mitcham sent her a wink before swiftly turning around and leaving the establishment. But once his back was turned she sighed, pondering her life as she wiped his table down with a dish rag.
Chelsea worked for a fairly low-key hole-in-the-wall type of diner. A lot of the customers were shift workers who ordered to-go; however it wasn't unusual for every seat to be taken in the fairly small establishment during the lunch and dinner rushes.
It wasn't Chelsea's dream part-time job, even if it was to support herself during school. She was jealous of some of her classmates who had managed to snare paid internships in highly sought after investment firms, where her classmates would frequently rub shoulders with Wall St's most elite.
Unlike some of her classmates at Hudson University she didn't have the same prestigious connections. In fact, the "O'Toole" part of her double barrelled surname (Callahan-O'Toole) belonged to her mother who was part of a family of well known New York criminal scum. The only thing close to an 'internship' that her mother's family could provide her would be to help out in a robbery, or to help out supplying drugs. She had never had any interest in her maternal side of the family's crimes and did her best to avoid the whole family at all costs, even though her mother thought she was a 'stuck up snob' for doing so.
The "Callahan" side of her family were far better. Whilst there were still no prestigious connections to be made through her father, he was still very different to her mother. Her father was an entertainment lawyer who had passed away eight months prior. Greg Callahan's name couldn't win Chelsea any fancy investment jobs, but he was still successful during his lifetime and had numerous celebrity clients back in Los Angeles.
Greg had been married twice and common law partnered once and each courtship had given him one child. The eldest was Eric Callahan, who had followed in his footsteps and had also become an entertainment lawyer. He had the same charisma as his father but his mother was a heiress and thus Eric's connections in that world were endless. Greg's second child Rita Shalvoy (nee Callahan, Shalvoy was her recently changed married surname) came from his second marriage. Like Eric, Rita also had a successful mother with a large network for Rita to take advantage of. Unlike Eric, Rita had chosen instead to sink her claws into a successful up-and-coming politician and was a political wife first and a stay-at-home mom second.
Then there was Chelsea, the youngest and the least privileged. After two wives Greg Callahan was through with marriages and thus he never married Chelsea's mom and therefore it was a clean split when they inevitably broke up not too long after Chelsea was born. Greg Callahan wasn't broke, but he didn't have the same money he had after two ex-wives cleaned him out in divorces. With his third partner using Chelsea as a meal ticket and bleeding him dry through child support he wasn't able to give Chelsea the same life her two older siblings had, especially as Chelsea didn't have a wealthy mother like the other two. There were no horse riding lessons or expensive private schools for Chelsea. Instead she attended public school and did subsidised group guitar lessons through school.
It was unfair, but any complaints always fell on deaf ears. She had an easier childhood than a lot of people in New York (although she grew up in Jersey) so no one ever wanted to hear the whinings of a middle-class white girl. No one except Cyrus Lupo, who was the only person she could trust with these thoughts.
"Chelsea, darling." Marge the owner of the diner addressed Chelsea, breaking her out of her thoughts.
Chelsea quickly put the dish rag into her apron, hoping Marge hadn't caught her wiping down the same table for quite a while, lost in her thoughts.
It was then Chelsea realised how quiet the diner had gotten. There was only one patron seated at the off-coloured tired looking brown booths. She was about to be sent home.
She eyed the tip that Mr Mitcham had left her. He had always tipped her well and her shoulders relaxed as she counted the cash. It was quieter a lot earlier than usual so she would be earning less than normal. She really needed the money, but at least Mr Mitcham's tip would help greatly.
"I'll head off. At least I'll get some time to study tonight." Chelsea weakly smiled towards Marge. Marge knew about some of her circumstances (not so much the 'mom was from a criminal family and dad is dead' thing, more so the 'Chelsea is a student and thus was broke' angle) and Chelsea didn't want her boss feeling guilty over having to send her home early.
"There's a few brownies that are starting to harden up. I don't think they'd be any good by tomorrow. Do you want to take them?" Marge asked her kindly.
Chelsea normally accepted as much free food from Marge as she could take, but she wasn't too keen on the diner's brownies. They were delicious, but after a childhood of becoming overweight on cheap fast-food fed to her by her mother, Chelsea had slight body image issues and tried to avoid sugary treats.
But then an idea hit her.
"Yeah, sure. Cyrus has been begging me to go visit him whilst he's on duty. I'll drop these off at the 27th Precinct for the cops to enjoy."
Chelsea lived in the Hudson area of New Jersey, but she worked in the Upper West side of Manhattan in order to be closer to her university. It was easier for her to pick up shifts if she was already in the area, and she needed all the shifts she could get. But this meant she was within walking distance to Cyrus' police station. Conveniently she knew that his shift tonight was on the desk.
After fixing herself slightly in the bathroom, she took the bagged brownies from Marge and promised to be careful on her short walk to the police station. The sun had only just begun to set and thus she wasn't walking in the dark. This would work to her advantage as she wouldn't have to hear a lecture from Cyrus about the dangers of being out in the dark in New York, at least not until later. He always worried about her getting the train back to Jersey late at night.
She gulped when she arrived at the stairs that led up to the precinct. She saw a few uniformed police coming in and out of the large doors, and she was nearly barrelled over by an aggressive looking male cop man-handling a much smaller man who seemed to be under the influence of some substance.
Chelsea suddenly didn't feel so confident about her decision to pay Cyrus a surprise visit at work now she had actually arrived. She didn't realise the station would be so big and intimidating.
"If you're here to report for bail conditions just go in. Loitering around on the steps won't get your name ticked off." A young female cop rudely sneered towards Chelsea as she was walking out of the station and noticed Chelsea nervously hovering around on the stairs.
This caused Chelsea to immediately look down at her attire. She was still wearing her diner clothes which consisted of a black long sleeved v-neck top with a hint of cleavage for tips from male customers (but not too much to avoid tips from female customers) and a high waisted black pencil skirt. Her layered brunette chin-length hair had been clawed back with a clip and thus wasn't scraggy or limp looking. She avoided sniffing herself to see if she smelled like food as she had already performed the 'sniff test' at the end of her shift.
She thought she looked fine, but did she really look like a criminal here to report for bail?
"I'm not a criminal, I'm here to visit a friend." Chelsea responded indignantly but cringed when she realised how pathetic she sounded. Surely it sounded like she was here to see a criminal.
It also brought back horrible past memories of calling around police stations when her ex-boyfriend had gotten arrested, as at the time she had no idea where he was being held. She had felt so trashy and pathetic asking police on the other end of the phone if they had custody of her boyfriend. She knew every person on the other end of the phone was judging her for being the girlfriend of a petty street criminal.
"Uh huh." The female cop smirked with a grin but kept her trek down the stairs and walked off before Chelsea could reply.
Sighing to herself, Chelsea knew there was nothing to do but to go in. She could just speak to the cop on the desk if Cyrus wasn't there and drop off the brownies and quickly leave. This didn't have to be a big deal.
As soon as she entered the large doors she looked around to see a very tired and basic looking interior. The room was brown and colourless, and all the wood in the room such as the front desk and the wooden chairs across from it were chipped and faded. It was also far less busy than she anticipated, there was only one youth with a boom box over his shoulder speaking to the desk sargent and two individuals who seemed to be drug or drunk affected on the uncomfortable chairs slurring to each other, Chelsea was able to make out the words 'Who knows what Ollie wants?'
Chelsea eyed the door as she contemplated leaving, feeling weird about lining up behind the youth with the boom box. She had no place being here and the fact it was empty made her feel even more intimidated. She definitely stood out, all eyes on the room were on her. Even the desk sargent was shooting her glances as he listened to the youth in front of her.
But then Cyrus came out from a door on the left behind the desk. It took her a moment to recognise him as she had never seen him in his uniform. She was used to Cyrus Lupo the college student who wore baggy jeans and Stussy hoodies with headphones from his walkman around his neck. Not Cyrus Lupo the patrolman who wore a crisp black uniform with a shiny badge on his collar that said "27".
He initially looked bored as he beckoned Chelsea over to the right side of the desk that was free, clearly not recognising her. But moments later when she stood in front of him grinning his eyes lit up.
"Chels! I didn't know you were planning on visiting tonight!" He beamed.
"Surprise! I even bring baked treats from the diner." Chelsea responded as she began to considerably relax in Cyrus' presence.
"Just wait there. I'll come out." Cyrus responded as he retreated from the desk and disappeared behind the door that was behind the desk that he had only just come out from.
Chelsea stood around awkwardly as she eyed the desk sargent. She was expecting him to be annoyed that his subordinate was slacking off work and accepting a personal visit. But he only sent her a wink when he saw her staring.
Moments later Cyrus appeared in front of Chelsea. She gulped as she looked him up and down. She had known he was a police officer but it had never felt real until she saw him in his uniform. She didn't think any less of him of course, but she knew she'd never see him in the same way again, especially when they spoke about his work. He was a real cop.
"So uh, yeah. Brownies." Chelsea awkwardly smiled as she handed him the brown paper bag.
Cyrus accepted it and looked inside.
"There's enough here for an army, do you mind if I share?" He asked her.
"Of course. They're for everyone." Chelsea shrugged.
"Come through. We'll pass them around and I'll give you a tour of the precinct." Cyrus excitedly stated.
"What, through there? Am I allowed in there?" Chelsea asked in shock as she pointed towards the glass door that obviously led to the inside of the precinct.
"It's not some super secret military base. Many members of the public come and go through that door every day. Come on, you'll be with me." Cyrus smiled.
For the second time today he contemplated holding her hand, or at least linking arms with her as he could tell she was highly strung out and nervous. He knew a lot about her and it made sense that she would be frightened.
Chelsea had only ever interacted with police during traumatic times. Being an O'Toole meant that it wasn't uncommon for police to be breaking down a door during a trip to a family member's home. It happened numerous times when she was little, when her mom had taken her to visit family members that had secret drug operations in backrooms of the house. Chelsea had even told Cyrus about a few times where she had answered the door and police were looking for her mom, or one of her cousins that her mom had taken in. Cyrus knew this would be pretty distressing.
But it was perhaps Chelsea's most recent interactions with police that disturbed her the most. It had taken him a while but he had recently gotten the full story out of Chelsea about her abusive ex. How he used to lock her inside the house and when Chelsea tried to call 911 for help he would take the phone off her, charm the operator off the phone and then beat her senseless. Or the time when she finally left him after he bashed her and then he threw her into an oncoming car, where thankfully the driver was able to stop in time and got out of his car to help her. Chelsea had never said anything ill about the officers she dealt with or even hinted the police at the scene had done anything wrong, but Cyrus didn't have to be a psychologist to understand she associated his profession with traumatic memories nonetheless.
"I'll give you the official tour." Cyrus smiled widely in order to try and break any tension building in Chelsea's head.
