WHO: Marceline and Reed/Neptune WHAT: Late night drinks WHERE: Nyx WHEN: Saturday night
Marceline always knew that she was an abrasive woman. Being born under hard-up circumstances with a volatile drunk as a father and a neglectful, drug addict as a mother, she was forced to grow up strong and fast. And being Brownsville High’s own penal system regulator, her particularly brusque nature was an attachment to her job. Brownsville was poverty-stricken, and she sympathized to those adolescents who eked out their lives struggling as victims of privation and gang violence. Nobody really went to New York City to visit the deteriorating areas. These kids were overlooked as resident delinquents who were deemed as simple matter that took up space, if not cause trouble. It pained Marceline to see these young adults being constantly abhorred, churning into self-deprecating individuals. It was why she took her job as seriously as she does. She wants to somehow save these kids—to be the ray of hope, and if it meant being a raging bitch, then she’d be a raging bitch.
But despite how committed Marceline is to her job as the dean, she was entirely grateful for spring break. The students wouldn’t be the only one taking advantage of it. She sat on a stool, twirling around as her hands gathered her dark hair and drew it up and into an exceedingly high ponytail. Her friend that came with her, a teacher that taught at Brownsville High, had gathered her things mere moments ago so she could return home to her child. Marceline didn’t have the luxury (or perhaps the burden) of domestic and maternal responsibilities. So down went the Grey Goose, burning her throat wonderfully and into the very pit of her stomach. If drinking alone was deemed pathetic, then she had no problem being pathetic every night.
Or well, maybe not every night, because before she knew it, she had considered this Reed’s proposal at a night out at a bar. She’d nearly forgotten about it, but, well. What the hell. She whipped out her phone and messaged him the address.
I’m four shots in. Better hurry if you want to catch up.