𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙.

1

[Chapter one]

2:32

The glowing numbers of the microwave and the ringing of her phone do nothing to soothe her growing headache. The hand that had been braced on the counter in front of her trembles in annoyance as she reaches back to pull the screaming device out of the pocket of her black pants.

She already knows exactly who it is, despite not having taken a single glance at the cracked screen of the phone she'd had since she was sixteen.

"Hello?"

"Gray?" The slurred voice hits her ear. "Gracie, it's me. It's Julian."

"I know, 'Lian." She doesn't bother to hold back the exasperation seeping into her voice. "Because who else would be calling me at two-thirty in the morning?"

"Can you—can you come get me, please?" Julian pleads through a hiccup.

As much as she wants to say no and go to bed, she knows she could never do that to her brother. "Where are you?"

"I'm at, uh, I'm—hey, no—"

"Gray?" Another voice comes from the line.

"Uncle Morgan?"

"Yeah, he showed up to my apartment drunk off his ass. You don't have to come get him. I know you just got home from work. He can crash here."

"No, no, it's fine. Thank you, though." She mumbles out, walking towards the front door, grabbing her keys on the way. "I'll be there in ten."

She hears the sigh from the other end. "Alright. Drive safe, kid."

She doesn't want to think of the reason he said that. Nor does she want to hear it.

It's been three years. She doesn't need to hear it.

"Will do." She answers shortly before hanging up the phone.

Still clad in her work clothes, Clara-Grace "Gray" De la Cruz climbs into her car and slams the door shut, making sure to lock all the doors of the vehicle. You can never be too careful. Especially not when you're a woman.

Her brother had come up with the nickname Gray when he was eight and she was four. He had thought calling her 'Clara-Grace' was oh-so-much work, and after various days of switching between calling her Clara, and Grace -about which Clara-Grace had complained about each time, telling him to "stop being a dumb-dumb and just pick a name"- he had somehow ended settling on 'Gray', during a moment in which he couldn't even be bothered finishing saying 'Grace'. Much to his delight, his sister had no complaints and actually loved it. And it stuck.

The material of the white button up is sticky against Clara-Grace's skin due to the spilled beer and alcohol from her shift at the bar. The sleeves are rolled up to her elbows. It had been far too hot in that building to not have them folded up. She would rather cool down and have horny men staring at her forearms, than be sweaty and still have horny men staring at her forearms.

She parks her car outside of the apartment complex ten minutes later, as promised. She makes her way inside and to the elevator, only to stop short.

'Out of order. Please use stairs'

Of course the elevator is out of order right now. Because life cannot be simple for her just once.

"Are you fucking serious?" She grumbles to herself, nails digging into her thigh as she releases a deep breath through her nose. "I might jump down the elevator shaft just to make a point."