"I'm home!" It seemed to Vivian that Gabe's voice shook the walls of their motor home, rather than his slamming of the door. Vivian tried very hard to pretend she hadn't been anxiously awaiting the social event and looked up.
Oh dear. She quickly turned her attention to Gabe, having looked towards where she thought he was and instead directly at his guest.
"Welcome home." Was sitting at the table too weird? It wasn't as though there was anywhere else to sit, but already at the table gave a kind-of anticapatory aire, as though she though Gabe was going to be delivering something apetizing for dinner. Besides that- was 'welcome home' really the right greeting? Gabe's friend was a stranger, and though the greeting might work in making them feel welcome, Vivian didn't want them to feel like the home was replacing wherever they had been before. Though technically, it was.
"Er- hello." It helped that Gabe's friend looked just as out-of-place as she felt.
"H-hi!" Second greeting? What was she thinking? "I'm Vivian. Or Viv? Uhm- she/they." Was the stranger... okay with that? Vivian hadn't thought to ask Gabe how queer-tollerant his guest was, and she was severerely regretting it. Well, if Gabe liked them- no, actually. Gabe didn't always have the best taste.
"I'm Goldwyn- he/him."
At the very least, he had given her his pronouns and not just... assumed she would know. Wasn't that sort of an old name? What were his parents thinking? Or- had his parents named him? Vivian felt bad assuming. Then again, were his parents even in the picture? If Goldwyn lived with his older sister, and couldn't even go back to his parents when she was missing, it was unlikely his parents were both good and alive. Why was she trying to analyse his childhood within a moment of him walking through the door? Stupid. That was rude!
"Where's Isa?" Gabe asked, glancing around their shared living space. He was carrying a plastic bag- takeout? Ingredients? Vivian hoped it wasn't soup.
"On the toilet!" Isabella called from, well, the toilet. Vivian flushed. Why, oh why, was Isa so informal? They had a guest! That being so, maybe it was best Goldwyn knew what he was getting into.
“Didn’t know we had all this fancy silverware.” Gabe commended, putting the bag on the table. Take-out, then. Probably. Hopefully. “Did you put the computer in the closet, or something?” Vivian flushed. How had he known?! She nodded.
“W-what’s for dinner?” Vivian asked, trying to change the subject away from the fact that they usually put the computer on the dining table. If Goldwyn really stayed with them, would they have to keep moving it? Would they find a different spot? Would they just never eat meals as a group? Why hadn’t Vivian been thinking about that earlier?
“Waffles.” Gabe grinned, making eye contact with Goldwyn, who flushed. What was that interaction? What did it mean? What was their relationship, even? Gabe had never let slip where he worked before-- Vivian had theorized that he either didn't work at all and got a stipend from his parents or did something vaguely illegal-- and now they were meeting one of his co-workers?
"Hey, Gabe," Isabella was talking as soon as she left the restroom, wet hands glistening in the light, "hey, Goldwyn. Caught your intro through the door." Gabe sat down, so Vivian finally wasn't the only one seated.
"Oh. Er- hi?" Goldwyn extended a hand for Isabella to shake. Were they supposed to shake hands? Should she have shook his hand? Oh no.
"I'm Isa. She/her/hers." Isabella finished the handshake and plopped down into her seat, prompting Goldwyn to take the only available seat- the computer chair. Which! Wasn't actually a computer chair, or a gaming chair, or anything like that-- Viv wasn't going to make him sit at a table on one of those, not that they had any. It was just... the chair for people using the computer. So. Viv would have to relearn that. "Now, I heard something about waffles?"
"Waffled," Gabe agreed, removing styrofoam boxes from the plastic bag. Isa got hers first, then Viv, then Goldwyn, and Gabe pulled his out last. Oh dear- she got her food before the guest. That was against the rules, wasn't it? Not- not that there really were any rules.
Wait- if they were eating out of syrofoam boxes... did they need the ceramic plates Vivian had gotten out? Was Vivian accidentally pressuring them to attempt transfering their waffles? Would she inevitably be the one to drop the waffle and make a stain on the only tablecloth they had? Vivian glanced around the table for a cue. So far everyone was just opening their box. Okay. Right. Vivian had to do that too, didn't she? The box popped open with a horrible sound. Styrofoam.
"Chocolate chip?" Isabella observed while Vivian looked at her own waffle. Bananas, huh? She liked bananas. They were just... morning food. Waffles! Waffles were morning food, too. Or late-late night food, she supposed, but four-thirty food? Four-thirty banana waffles? What was Gabe thinking?
Probably just normal-people things. Neither Goldwyn nor Isa seemed too phased. Four-thirty waffles were a normal-people thing, because normal-people didn't actually care about meal timing. Sometimes it even brought them joy to go against conventional meal timing, if what Vivian had observed on the internet was true, which was really 50-50.
"Th-thank you," Vivian smiled out, stabbing her waffle with a fork, "Where did you get these waffles?" What place served waffles at four-thirty? Or- four-fifteen minus hoever much time it took to get back from there, probably. Goldwyn frowned. Was that a bad question? Gabe smiled.
"Justin's Best Waffles, of course."
"Well, they're pretty good," Isa commented through a full mouth of chocolate ship waffle. Vivian frowned, trying not to feel put out by her friend talking with a mouthful of food. Gabe's smile widened and Goldwyn flushed.
"Glad you like 'em." Gabe gently pushed Goldwyn's shoulder before dramatically taking a bite of his own waffle. Wait... Gabe had described Goldwyn as a chef before, right? Vivian had never been to Justin's Best Waffles, and if she thought about it Gabe probably would consider it a lame enough job to forgo mentioning, which would mean.... Vivian glanced between Gabe and Goldwyn.
“Did-” Oh dear, she was going to be so wrong wasn’t she? Yet she couldn’t help but blurt out- “Did you make these waffles, Goldwyn?” Their guest looked vaguely reminiscent of a tomato with yellow leaves, then. Gabe laughed and soon enough Isa joined in, though Vivian wasn’t sure if that was confirmation or not.
“Figures you’d push off the cooking onto your unsuspecting friend.” Isabella laughed. Alright. So it had been confirmation. Cool. Viv had been right? Viv had been right. Right? Yes, that was what Isa meant. Good. Embarrassment avoided successfully.
“In my defense, he is a chef.” Gabe laughed. Goldwyn huffed.
“Of waffles.” Right. Of waffles. Gabe had been awfully secretive about it though, more than just embarrassment called for.
"Well, these are very good waffles, Gold," Isabella assured Goldwyn, "sorry you have to deal with this dumbass."
"Oh, it's- it's-" Goldwyn looked to Gabe expectantly, but Gabe was wholly focused on his own meal, "he's been very kind? With- with offering this. And helping me look for my sister."
"Oh? Figures. That's why you've been staying out late, huh?" Isabella asked Gabe. Much like the last week or so of Isabella's increasingly passive-aggressive comments, Gabe ignored the jab.
"I don't mean- er- I don't mean to keep him. Sorry," Goldwyn apologized.
"So when did you two meet?" Vivian did her best not to wince at the sudden transition, and she did a good job! Sort of. Isabella's question was balid, and something Vivian was wondering herself, but it sounded a lot like Goldwyn was meeting Gabe's parents about their relationship for the first time. Not that they were in a relationship! Well, they were, everyone was in a relationship with everyone else because that's how relationships worked. Stranger was a relationship, but. No. Right. There was a point, and Goldwyn was opening his mouth to answer.
"Just- er- I started working there about a month ago? Before Christmas." Huh. Well, at least Gabe hadn't been keeping his new friend secret for years, like his job. Weird that he was willing to ket Goldwyn in on their three-year-old roommate agreement after knowing him for a month. Well, Goldwyn had lost his sister. Or whatever. Oh dear.
Was Vivian feeling jealous? That wasn't good, that was rude. What had Goldwyn ever done to her besides butting into her perfectly enjoyable life and causing her extreme amounts of stress on a usually peaceful Friday night and making morning food in what was basically the afternoon. Linner! Dunch? Unimportant! Besides- Gabe had let her move in with him after meeting basically earlier that day, he had a tendency to cling to people like mold. Good mold! Good mold. That was a bad metaphor. Vivian mentally apologized for calling one of her best friends mold.
"Ha! You have been chosen for the aggressive bonding program, huh?"
"Excuse you," Gabe scoffed, "I am methodically ensuring your undying loyalty to my nefarious cause."
"Right." Isabella nodded placatingly. "As I said. What... was your nefarious cause, again?"
Vivian founder herself glad that Isabella had asked. She was half-certain Gabe relaly had made her verbally swear loyalty to that cause about a year into living together. She'd just... not asked what the cause was. Or maybe she had? Either way, she would rather know what she had agreed to.
"It-" Gabe began, before stopping himself. He frowned. "I guess... it's come to me. You'll see."
"Sure," Isabella rolled her eyes. Oh, right! The nefarious cause back then had been to steal cookies from some bakery. They'd succeeded and Vivian had been sworn ot secrecy and somehow she'd just forgotten about it.
"The... it's our secret life of crime, isn't it?" Vivian asked. That was a pretty nefarious cause- keeping the truth of that missing revenue away from law enforcement. There was also the part where Vivian hadn't technically been eighteen yet when she'd first moved in... a bit more pressing than the cookies, really.
"That's right! Thank you, my loyal encyclopedia-henchwoman." Cool. Vivian had a role.
"What... what crimes, exactly?" Goldwyn asked.
"Identity fraud," Isabella answered automatically, "aiding and abetting. Resisting arrest."
"Accessory to first degree murder." Gabe added, grin high.
"Oh, right." Vivian could tell Goldwyn wasn't really taking them seriously though, and frowned. Isabella had been very serious, and Gabe... well, if Gabe committed murderer, both his other friends would be willing to be an accessory.
"Think blood pact." Isabella nodded.
"I... I uh..." Goldwyn seemed genuinely frightened of such a transaction.
"We aren't going to make you," Vivian assured him, giving her friends a look she was certain was not threatening at all.
“We have a doc with the house rules, though. Would you prefer to go through them on your own time or discuss them with us tonight? I would recommend the second option- just in case you have any changes.” Oh no. More socialization with the stranger- sorry- Goldwyn? Ew. No, not ew. Why was Vivian so out of it?
“I’d say the second option, then.” Oh, now Goldwyn was getting along well with Isa, too. Was Isabella just glad she finally had someone responsible who wasn’t a total wreck to talk to? Not that Gabe wasn’t responsible! That much was established by him getting the apartment and helping Goldwyn and so on and so forth. He wasn’t a total wreck, either. That was meant to refer to her, Vivian. She was the total wreck. Not her best friend. One of her best friends.
“Alright.” Isabella reached into her pocket and took out her phone, presumably to start with the rules-reviewing, “What’s your email?”
“Er- it’s goldwyn-dot-carroll. G-O-L-D-W-Y-N-dot-C-A-R-R-O-L-L.” That was a really generic email. How had Gabe made friends with that guy, again? As far as Vivian knew, Gabe was a total adrenaline junkie. Wait- was the problem that she didn’t know him? Did she not know him at all? Had she just been assuming that she knew him? Vivian glanced at Gabe’s chair, only to find that he had, at some point, gotten up and was at the fridge. She watched him return with an apple and a container of leftovers. He set the container in front of her.
She stared at it for a long moment. She had put the container in the fridge Wednesday, when she’d made too much pasta for dinner. Vivian looked up at Gabe, who was already sitting back down in his seat.
“Alright, so rule number one…” Isabella began, seemingly deliberate in the way she ignored Vivian and Gabe’s interaction, and Gabe pretended to pay apt attention while biting a large chunk out of his apple. Viv winced at the sound.
Well, there was a reason she put up with him.
“You really sure you’re okay with this?” Isa asked from the driver’s seat.
“Hm?” Okay with what? Vivian was so not okay with so many things, from the assignment she’d forgotten about in her haste to organize the night before to the reason she was so stressed that night, Vivian wasn’t even sure what her frame of reference was supposed to be. Was she okay with the way the truck was passing over speedbumps? Not particularly, the right side of the truck had bumped up four times more than the left side and that wouldn’t be too much of a problem if it could just be an odd, natural number. Odd numbers- ones that weren’t variations of five- were natural. They were a part of nature. They were wild. Uneven bouncing was also wild, so why couldn’t the number just match.
Of course, she was pretty sure that wasn’t what Isabella had been asking about. That was just a silly Vivian thing, not a real life rule. It really wouldn’t be bothering her so much if she wasn’t purposely trying to think about it, in an attempt to get her mind off of where they were going.
“About Goldi moving in.” Isabella clarified. Right. That. Where they were going.
“I- I suppose.” Vivian was much better at lying to Gabe and Isabella when they were all together. When it was just one-on-one, like she was with Isa, she could feel the judgement.
“You suppose?”
“W-well-” Wasn't she? Vivian really wanted to help him, it was just... “...yes? There’s- I just- I don’t know how comfortable I can be around- um- a new person.” A new person in her home. That was really the stressor- Vivian could just ignore or avoid new people all she wanted, but when they were in her space? It was just… The night before had been hard.
“We can make our room off limits to him, if you’d like,” Isabella suggested, “give you a safe space.”
“Right.” Except home was her safe space. The rest of it was supposed to be part of that- part of the little corner of the world she could exist in. For that space to be made smaller, she- she felt like she was getting boxed in, or something. Which was stupid. Oh- but had Isabella’s suggestion been a question? She didn’t want to just not give Isa an answer. ‘Right’ wasn’t an answer. Not a real one. “Um- that sounds good. Thank you.”
“Sweet. We’ll add that to the document when we get there.” Right. Right. The time for putting up new rules had been the night before. What was Vivian thinking? Why hadn’t she thought about that earlier? Why would she allow Isa to go through more trouble just because she hadn’t been sharp enough to bring it up over pasta? Stupid.
About five minutes of stewing in her failures later, Vivian felt the truck bump through a gate and into a different apartment complex than her own. The buildings were a lighter shade of brown and slightly shorter- it was probably a more expensive place, then. She wondered where Margaret worked in order to afford a place like the ones around the truck.
They came to a stop in a space outside building E, the building Goldwyn was in. Had been in. Vivian hadn’t been aware that people could lose their apartments just a week after not paying rent. Then again, she didn’t really handle any of the rental paperwork, she just sort-of handed money to Gabe and let him handle everything. In hindsight, were there more clauses she had missed? More things about breaking the walls or damaging the floors or messing with the lights? Not that she had, of course. Maybe it was best she hadn’t known all the details. One week was such a short amount of time for an entire life to fall apart.
How long would it take for her life to fall apart, if Isabella or Gabe went missing? Probably less time. Maybe an hour, actually. Maybe less, depending on what absolute force of nature had managed to drop Isabella off the map and if it was coming for Vivian too or not. Vivian fumbled with her seatbelt and popped open the passenger’s side door of Isabella’s truck.
“Good morning, you two.” Goldwyn was already waiting for them on the second floor, the door to the apartment open behind him.
“Morning, Goldi.” Isabella greeted cheerfully, heading up the stairs and allowing Vivian to trail after her quietly. If she angled her body correctly, she could almost hide behind her best friend. Sometimes she almost let herself feel proud of the feat, knowing how much bigger she was.
“So- er- I was thinking most of the stuff should be donated? Like- the couch and table and that sort. All I really need to move in is my bed and the contents of a few suitcases.”
“Sounds good.” Isabella was already entering Goldwyn’s apartment and moving to one side of the couch. Vivian went to the other side. She wasn’t just a body in the way if she was helping. Vivian liked to think she was pretty strong, but Isabella was much stronger. All Vivian had going for her was two arms, but that was still… something.
Still something. Still helpful. At least she was stronger than Goldwyn. That was a mean thought, but it helped solidify her hope that she was a superior friend. Maybe they wouldn’t need to replace her with Goldwyn if she proved that. As if they would actually replace her, but maybe they’d start drifting and then-
Or maybe she wouldn’t be replaced at all. Maybe their trio would stay the same as it ever was, except Goldwyn would be there, always lingering on the edges. Exactly where Vivian always feared she would end up. He was already there then, as they loaded the truck bed with a couch and four chairs. It was his apartment- how would he fit into their apartment? Well, now Vivian was just feeling bad for him again. If her family went missing.
Yeah.
“To the thrift store!” Isabella announced, entering her truck soon after they finished tethering down the last of the chairs. They probably only need one more trip to the thrift store- then one load home. After taking apart Goldwyn’s bed, though… That would be difficult. They’d already agreed to take Margaret’s bed, too, to switch out for Isabella’s creaking frame and Vivian’s moldy mattress. She was looking forward to sleeping on a clean mattress, even if it belonged to a dead- sorry, missing- person.
“Oh- er- where-” Goldwyn blinked at the truck. Most likely, he was looking at the two seats.
"I'll take the center console," Vivian said, taking the initiative.
“What do you two want to get for lunch?” Isabella asked as they finished dropping off the last of the furniture headed to the thrift store. Really, Margaret and Goldwyn didn’t have much furniture in their apartment. Vivian supposed that was a good thing- for moving, at least. The place wasn’t big enough to handle more furniture, anyway. It was surprisingly similar to the trio’s shared apartment. Or- quartet. Maybe they could all learn string instruments. The only real difference had been the separation of the dining room and living room- a separation marked only by carpeting versus wooden flooring. Vivian was glad her home didn’t have any carpeting.
“Er- whatever?” Goldwyn shrugged. Right- lunch. Think about lunch. Vivian… Well, she was hungry? Just not for anything in particular. She nodded along with Goldwyn’s comment.
“Whatever you’d like, Isa.” Really, Isabella ought to know better than to ask Vivian what they should get for lunch. Or maybe Isa had just meant to ask Goldwyn without calling him out. That was perfectly plausible as well. That was… probably what Isa had meant, actually. Was Vivian supposed to answer, then? Though, Goldwyn hadn’t exactly given an answer. Or- not anything better than what Vivian usually responded with.
“So Lil’ Ramos?” Isabella suggested, “Goldwyn, how do you feel about Mexican?”
“Sure.” Goldwyn shrugged again. Vivian wasn’t sure Lil’ Ramos counted as Mexican food- not that it didn’t. It wasn’t a fast food place, at least. It just… well, Vivian wasn’t too knowledgeable about Mexican culture, so maybe she really shouldn’t judge. The food was good, it just looked nothing like the food that- well- actual Mexicans ate. Which may have just been her, or that one foster family she’d stayed with. It didn’t matter, not really.
“Viv?” Isa prompted.
“Sounds good.” Right- a response. People generally wanted a response- Vivian certainly wanted responses to her suggestions. It was just hard to remember, sometimes. Stupid.
“Great!” Isabella turned into the Lil’ Ramos parking lot; when had they gotten there? Had she been driving there the whole time? Obviously she knew Vivian well enough to just start driving wherever rather than waiting for an answer to the food question, but did Isa really know Goldwyn that well too? How? Vivian glanced at Goldwyn, who seemed wholly unperturbed. “I’ll pay, obviously.”
"Thanks.” Goldwyn muttered as the truck came to a stop in a parking space. Right. Right. He’d lost his apartment because he was broke. Well, and because he was a legal minor, but Isa probably could’ve taken care of that somehow.
Goldwyn got out of the truck a moment before Isabella, so Vivian had to leave on his side. She tried to not be frustrated by this, by the incredibly awkwardness which came from untangling her limbs from the center console and climbing over the passenger. It was annoying, alright? It wasn’t his fault, probably, but it was annoying and the way he watched her, waiting for a time to close the door, was just… Was just. A little frustrating. Right? That made sense. Goldwyn just didn’t know that Vivian didn’t like being watched. He didn’t know that and she wasn’t going to tell him, so it would just... Always be a problem. Or maybe he would figure it out, like Gabe and Isabella had, eventually. It had taken them a while too, hadn’t it? Isabella pulled open the door and Goldwyn and Vivian shuffled into the restaurant awkwardly.
“Table for three, please.” Isa told the waiter working the front. They swiftly removed three menus and three sets of silverware from their bins.
“Please follow me.” Lil’ Ramos was not too busy, despite it being lunchtime on a Saturday. Vivian wondered if that was just because the restaurant wasn’t popular- it was in a pretty distant part of town, afterall. Most people spent their weekends in the city, the big city, that was. Too many people were working weekend shifts in Vegas to bother coming out for Mexican food for lunch. Vivian was grateful. The trio was seated in a booth, “Can I start you off with some drinks?”
“Lemonade for me, please.” Isa ordered. Right. Drinks. Vivian really should’ve thought about drinks sometime before the waiter’s eyes fell on her. What did she want to drink? What liquid would satisfy her?
“Water?” Water was good, right? Yes- water was the baseline liquid. Vivian liked water and it was usually the cheapest drink available, which was good because someone else was paying. That someone was Isa, who would definitely notice if Vivian ordered the cheapest food option on the menu, but was less aware of the drink menu prices.
“Water.” Goldwyn echoed.
“One lemonade and two waters.” The waiter read off. “I’ll have those right out for you.” Cool. Great. Two waters. Two of the same drink was probably convenient, right? Was Goldwyn just ordering whatever she had or did he legitimately want water? Had he just also not been able to think of something in time? Had Vivian’s answer pressured him into also ordering water?
“So Goldi, which high school did you go to?” Isabella asked conversationally.
“Uh- Grove."
"Huh. Viv and I both went to Citrus, so it figures we wouldn't have seen you around."
"What- er- college? Either of you?" Goldwyn asked. Vivian began unwrapping her silverware, trying to make it perfectly clear that she was not to be expected to join the conversation.
"Oh, no, absolutely not. I'm gonna stay at my dead-end gig until I can land a cybersecurity job. If worst comes to worst I'll hack someplace and show them how shitty there systems are to make them fire me."
"Well, that's..." Goldwyn trailed off. The napkins at Lil’ Ramos were made of pretty low quality paper, in Vivian’s opinion. Though, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Vivian liked the way it seemed to fray when she picked at it. Goldwyn wasn’t expecting her to say what her plans were, right? She didn’t have any plans!
“What about you?” Isabella asked, saving Vivian from the inevitable embarrassment of trying to put together an unwanted response to a question she hadn’t been asked.
"Oh I don't- er- have any, really."
"Oh?"
“My- er- my sister just worked at a department store.” Goldwyn admitted. Vivian blinked. A department store? But- that apartment? It was… obviously nicer than someone who just worked at a department store could afford. Vivian looked to Isabella, who caught her gaze.
‘Obviously she lied to him’ They agreed silently. Whatever Margaret had actually done for work, it probably had something to do with her disappearance. Vivian just hoped it wouldn’t affect her life in any way.
“Oh, that happens,” Isabella said, instead of what they were both thinking, “seems like everyone this generation has to do their rounds, regardless of college or whatever.”
“Yeah,” Goldwyn agreed, “guess it’s good we’re getting a head start, then. Er- gotta get those seven plus years of experience somehow.”
“Damn right. You know, I was just-”
“Two waters,” A different waiter arrived at their table, tray in hand. They set Goldwyn’s water down first, then reached over Isa to give Vivian hers, “And a lemonade. Do you need another minute to think over the menu?” The menu?
Right, the menu. The menu. Vivian hadn’t even opened hers, how was she supposed to know what to order? Sure, she got the same thing every time Isa dragged her to Lil’ Ramos, but how would she order it? What if she forgot the name? What if they removed it from the menu? What if they raised the price? What if there was a new topping she didn’t like? What about Goldywn- would he get the same thing as her? Would it look like she was just copying off of him? Would he feel like he was just copying off of her, if she ordered first?
“Another moment, please.” Isabella requested. Right. Right. Vivian had forgotten that her table mates also hadn’t opened their menus. She wasn’t alone in her misery.
“Of course. Take your time.” The new waiter wandered off and Isabella was the first to actually open her menu. Vivian quickly followed suit.
Fortunately for her, the bean, rice, and cheese burrito was still on the menu, with nothing mysteriously added to the description of that name. Just- the title. Bean, rice, and cheese burrito, please. She could do that. Oh- dry. It had been a while since they’d gone to Lil’ Ramos- since Isabella had gotten a pay raise- but she needed to remember to specify that unless she wanted the waiter to ask a follow-up question. Definitely one of the worst-case scenarios, right up there with ‘we don’t have the ingredients for that right now.’ But! Those options would not be happening to her. Not at lunch time, so early in the day. Not on a Saturday. Not if she remembered to specify the first time. She could do that.
“Er- what do you recommend?” Goldwyn asked after a moment. Vivian looked up sharply before she could stop herself. Asking for a recommendation? Was he crazy? What if he didn’t like it? How stupid would he feel eating something and politely trying to pretend it sucked? He looked to her expectantly, as though Vivian would have something to recommend.
“Depends how spicy you’re willing to go.” Thank the Lord for Isabella and her social skills. Seriously. With wonderful extrovert friends like hers, why was it any wonder that Vivian was the way she was and still alive? Well, yes, but whoever was doing the wondering would understand as soon as they met Vivian’s best friends.
“Er- not very?” Goldwyn scratched his hand and Vivian tried very hard to not think about his pallid complexion.
“Well, with that out of the way, what were we talking about?” At least Isabella was taking the focus off of Vivian again. Vivian would forgive her friend’s transgressions.
“Qualifications, I think?” Goldwyn suggested. Right. Conversation again. Vivian supposed that was fine. It didn’t make sense to just sit around the table silently.
"Right..." Isabella took a sip of her drink, "Listen, Gabe may own the apartment and have final say over this decision, but if you turn out to be a little bitch I will have you thrown out, okay? We've had this agreement for multiple years now, and you can either stay quiet about that math or fend for yourself on the streets." Vivian flushed and Goldwyn grew pale. "Got it?"
"...got it."