birds of a feather

Harley

Breathe in... and out. In... and out.

"Ahhh~~~" I exhaled deeply, feeling the morning breeze kiss my skin as I stood on the balcony. Nothing beat the tranquility of this moment—the view of New York's skyline spread out beneath me. I'd chosen this place for the view, and maybe, just maybe, I'd started regretting it. The heart of the city meant no sleep; the hum of traffic and the late-night chaos were endless. But this balcony, the view, and the golden sunrise peeking over the edge of the world? That made it worth it. I could deal with the noise.

Honk!

I sighed. Whatever. Nothing was going to ruin my morning. Not my father, not his words that still stung more than I wanted to admit.

Alright. Time to move.

I groaned, hauling my yoga mat inside, my body still warmed from the stretches. I didn't even feel the usual sting—just... good. Really good. It's like the city buzz could've never touched me this morning.

"Alright! Let's start your day." I entered the house, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee hit me. Perfect timing.

"Got energy, I see," Rebecca's voice drifted from the kitchen. She was leaning casually against the counter, coffee cup in hand, eyes half-closed as she sipped.

"What can I say? I can't let the world put me down." I shot her a grin, walking past to the storage closet.

"Your dad called, huh?" She probed, her eyes not leaving her cup.

I froze, mid-step, yoga mat still in my hands. My back hunched, and I didn't turn around. "Yeah," I muttered, the words barely coming out.

Rebecca's tone shifted. "Why does he call whenever I stay over? What did he say this time? Are you alright?"

I placed the mat down and stood up straight, trying to shake it off. "Nothing much. Same old, same old." I shrugged, my voice flat.

"Same old insults, I bet." She arched an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter.

I shrugged again, this time more slowly. "Nothing I'm not used to. You know he never liked the new me after I moved here. I veered off his standards way too much."

She nodded, her face softening a bit.

"Mm, nothing new there. But still, I thought time would heal your relationship," she said, speaking of her own family. "Look at me—haven't spoken to them in three years, and they still send me money."

" Got the notification this morning in fact." She added.

I frowned. "And yet you never touch it," I added, voicing the sentiment we both shared.

Rebecca's eyes dropped to the floor. "Sucks, right?" she said softly. "To know you have a father who either wants nothing to do with you or only wants to throw insults?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Guess we're birds of a feather," I said, my voice lighter now.

Rebecca cracked a smile, her lips curling up at the corners.

"That's it." I walked over to her, placing her coffee cup gently on the counter. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. "Don't let them get to you. It's not worth it. And don't go back to them unless you want to."

The words slipped out more for my own benefit than hers, but she didn't need to know that.

"Geez, thanks, but you're killing me. Hands off," she grumbled, pushing me away.

I laughed. "Your hangover got you bad."

"Tch, and I still have to work." She winced, rubbing her forehead as her phone rang. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the screen.

"Take it. Might be important," I said, stepping away from the counter, not wanting to be caught in her drama.

She hesitated but then picked it up, reaching over the stove to grab the phone. I turned toward the lounge, feeling the soft thump of the city outside the window. My apartment wasn't big, but it was cozy—just right for me. The rooms were close together, giving a sense of space even in the compact design.

"Huh~" I groaned, throwing myself onto the couch. Looking around, I noticed how badly I needed to clean. The coffee table was covered in dust, the fake flowers from my 25th birthday gathering a thick layer of grime. Maybe it was time to do some spring cleaning, or, more likely, just procrastinate until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Harley, something's happened," Rebecca's voice interrupted my thoughts. She sounded... horrified.

I sat up straight, heart skipping a beat. "What? What is it? The world coming to an end?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. But her face didn't change. She looked like she'd seen a ghost—pale, eyes wide, her fingers running through her hair nervously.

"What? Becks, you're scaring me." I stood slowly, walking over to her.

She took a shaky breath. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, Harley, I really am."

"What happened?" I asked, the words tumbling out as I stepped closer, anxiety creeping up my spine.

Rebecca exhaled, pacing in tight circles. "My assistant... she sent your resume to RevX Motor Sports."

I blinked. "What?" I choked on the word.

"She—" she started, but before she could finish, a phone call interrupted.

"It's your mom," Rebecca said, throwing my phone to me.

I hesitated. I didn't want to take the call. Not now. I wasn't in the mood to deal with my mom, let alone the mess Rebecca had just dropped on me. But my better judgment took over. I had to.

"Hello, Mom?" I answered, trying to sound calm.

"Ah, Harley, honey, your father confirmed with the client. He's coming with you tomorrow," she said, her voice bright and chipper, as if she didn't realize I was spiraling.

"Okay, Mom, now's really not the time. Can I call you back in five minutes?" I asked, the words sounding strained even to me.

"Yes, of course. I just wanted to give you his name, so you don't lose each other," she said, almost too eagerly.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the reality of what Rebecca had just said sinking in. "Okay, what's his name?" I managed to ask, trying to focus.

There was a rustling sound, followed by the loudspeaker clicking as my mother returned, her voice now booming in my ear.

"Found it! It's Mr. Clad Storm."