brian_campo: (brush shoulders off)
[personal profile] brian_campo in [community profile] birthright_rpg
Nimble fingers popped quarters into a payphone. The segmented cord creaked as Maddy propped the receiver against her cheek. She leaned as far into the stall as possible, plugging her open ear. The club was crowded and noisy; she could barely hear the dial tone or the voice on the other end, a distracted ‘hello?’

“Brian! It’s Maddy!” she shouted.

His eardrum vibrated under the sonic assault and he asked, “Yeah, where the fuck are you?”

“The Funhouse.” She touched a piece of chewed gum and recoiled, wiping her palm on her jeans.

Brian frowned. “Really? Why?” It didn’t seem like her kind of place; Maddy was into the kind of punk-rock dump where a girl could take off her top and nobody got arrested. “Is it dollar shots or something?”

“No, I’m meeting Melody. We just got off work. This is probably the only place on the planet where her vocal talents can be appreciated. Listen, I just saw Valerie. I thought you might wanna know. Didn't you say you tanked your phone message?” Maddy craned her neck and saw the blonde was still near the bar. The silence has stretched on too long, so she said, “Brian?”

He was pacing his cramped living room. There was a potato chip on the floor and he crushed it under his shoe by accident. Shit. “Did you talk to her?”

Maddy snorted. “No, she’d probably punch me.”

“What? Why?” Brian had that feeling he often got with Maddy, like there was an inside joke he was too dense to get.

“Nothing, never mind. Just come out, okay?” Maddy turned back into the pay phone, her fingers tracing the buttons. “You know you want to. So sack up.” Maybe it was concern for Brian making her push the issue, or maybe it was guilt: in her opinion, that relationship was a casualty of the domino effect. If she’d handled the conversation with Valerie better, then maybe the blonde wouldn’t have been so upset when she landed on Brian’s doorstep, and maybe Brian would’ve seen the situation more clearly.

“Yeah, okay.” He was already stalking the room in search of a clean shirt.

“Atta boy, little bro.” Maddy hung up. The quarter plunked into the depths and she squeezed into the crowd, hoping to find Melody before she got felt up by a body builder or propositioned by a sleazy investment banker.

Brian frowned and hung up. Little brother, another of those inside jokes he didn’t get. He tore through his apartment looking for keys, his wallet, a folded piece of paper, cursing under his breath when he tripped on an extension cord. He was out the door in three minutes.

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