*remember how the coffee made us shake ,,, openness on a bun

[ian carson nyquist]

Ian woke up in the morning to the sound of his roommate's gentle snoring in the room next to him. He rolled over on his moaning mattress and grabbed the small alarm clock on his side table; its bright red numbers read five-thirty in the morning. Ian wasn't one for sleeping in. In fact, he had never slept in before in his life, but he felt that five-thirty was a little extreme for a wake up call. He tried desperately to get back to sleep, stuffing a pillow over his head to block out the little rays of sunshine that poked through his curtains. He tried sleeping over the covers to cool himself down, but nothing seemed to work. In the end, he gave in and got out of bed. He scratched his bare chest and yawned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. Ian then padded into the kitchen and ripped open a cupboard, only to find that the coffee grind can was completely empty. Ian knew that he hadn't finished it off, so he was certain that it was his friend. While he loved the guy, Ian couldn't stand it when he put away empty cans and trash. It gave him false hope.

Ian was really in trouble now. He had to have a cup of coffee in the morning. He had been drinking it since he was fifteen years old. Without the caffeine buzz, he would crash by lunchtime. He had literally fallen asleep at the lunch table in freshman year, and woken up in the janitor's closet on the other side of the school. He had Howard and some seniors to thank for that. Ian thought about it for a moment. He could wait until Howard woke up (which would be around nine o' clock) and force his roommate to replace the coffee he drained, or he could go get his own coffee and brew it. His last option, though, was to get some pre-made stuff. Not as fresh, maybe, but nonetheless effective. Ian walked into his room, grabbed a wrinkled white shirt with black rims on the sleeves and the neck, slipped on a pair of dark wash jeans, and his black and white Nike Shox and walked back into the kitchen.

Ian grabbed a pen and some paper and wrote a note to his sleeping friend. "At Starbucks. It's 6.30. Be back by 8.00 or something. Got other stuff to do." And that was all. He doubted that his roommate would be awake by the time Ian got back, but it was nice to leave a note anyway. He knew how frustrating it was to get home and find his roommate missing without a trace, and nothing to tell when he'd be home or if he'd even be home that night. (Howard was quite the bedwarmer.) Ian grabbed a light black jacket off the hook with his plain navy baseball cap and his car keys. He went outside, got in his car, and drove off to Starbucks. He parked haphazardly in a spot, got out of his car, and locked it. He made his way inside. Ignoring the somewhat awed look he got from the teenaged girl at the counter, he ordered a Cafe Mocha to-go. She rung it up, and he could hear her squealing to her friends about a cute guy at the counter. He saw a few heads pop out from the back. They squealed and went into the back again.

Finally, Ian got his coffee, he paid, and went outside the shop, putting on a pair of black shades along the way. Although he was in Florida, the early morning weather was no sunshine and daisies. It was windy and chilly, and Ian thanked the Lord that he was smart enough to bring a jacket along. He leaned up against the hood of his silver car and took a long sip of his coffee, watching as the palm trees that lined the somewhat empty street danced in the breeze. He gave a small smile and took another sip. Today would be a good day. He just knew it.

[brietta genevieve kingston]

YOU ARE MADE OF SUGAR, MILK, AND
MOLASSES SO LITTLE DARLING YOU ATTRACT
ALL THE BEES YOU ARE THE GAZER YOU ARE
THE ATTRACTION IT TAKES A LITTLE VANITY
TO KNOW WHAT IT MEANS

---

Brietta was sitting at the spot where the water met the sand, admiring the purples and reds of the sunset. Only a few feet away was Howard. He had two Manhattans in hand as he approached her. Handing her one, he took a seat in the sand next to Bee. He had wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer. Brietta took a small sip of her Manhattan and genuinely smiled. Yes, not a smirk, not a half smile, but a full on smile. She turned her head to look at him and discovered he was already staring at her. Their faces inched closer and closer together until... "YOU HATE COZ IM A ROCKSTAR! A ROCKSTAR! A PRETTY LITTLE PROBLEM, UH HUH!" was what woke Brietta up from her perfect dream. Well, not perfect, but pretty close. Grumbling, Brietta reached her arm over to the small table next to her bed, fumbling around for the source of the noise. When she finally found her cell phone, she slid it open to reveal a text message. Ugh. Who would text her this early in the day? No one sensible, of course. And she was pretty certain most people she knew were sleeping. It was Facebook. Seriously? She really needed to turn those automatic updates off. She really didn't care if someone had just poked her whatever. Especially if that someone did it at five fifteen! Well, that poke had certainly woken Bee right up. And once she was awake, there was no getting back to sleep for Brietta.

Dropping her phone back on the night stand, Brietta pulled back her covers and sat up, letting out a large yawn. After a second of just sitting there, she managed to drag herself out of her king-sized sleigh-bed with it's white sheets and white comforter. All the furniture in Brietta's room was white and to contrast that she had had the walls painted a deep chocolate brown color. It made everything seem so crisp and clean cut. She pulled her hair back in a low ponytail as she made her way over to her walk-in closet. It was decorated the same way her room was with a big mirror on the back wall. The only thing that really differentiated the two was all the colors in the closet. Bee had clothes galore in every color, style, and designer. There were dresses and skirts and shirts and jeans and shorts and everything else you could imagine. It really was a fantastic closet, if she did say so herself. Sleepily she chose a floral print sundress made of mainly white, greens, and turquoises. After the had gotten dressed she took a little time working on make-up and a decent amount on her hair. After making sure the curls in her hair were perfect and that her turquoise headband mached her outfit perfectly, she brushed her teeth and all that other jazz. It was about 6:25 when she was finally ready to go. She hopped in her cherry red Porsche and sped off towards her destination.

Starbucks wasn't very far at all form the complex she and her sistered lived it, so it didn't take much time. She parked close to the front, right next to a handicapped spot, before putting the roof back up and turning off the car. Brietta didn't pay much attention to her surroundings as she made her way into the coffee shop. Removing her shades, she stepped up to the counter where some teenage girl seemed to keep staring out the glass door she had come in from. Weird. Brietta ordered a Peppermint Mocha from the 'not all there at the moment' girl and was only forced to wait a couple minutes before it came out. After all, there weren't too many people here at this time. The few that had ventured out to Starbucks were the ones who had to get to work, so they were out of there as soon as the had their coffee in hand. Brietta was glad to get out of the store and back into the sunshine when her drink was finally ready. Without as much as a thanks or even a glance at the girl, Brietta made her way back out the glass door and placed her sunglasses back on. After a moment someone caught Bee's eye: Ian Nyquist. He lived in the same complex as Brietta and Lorelai and she knew he and her sister had something going on. Just like Bee and his roommate, Horward, had some kind of a relationship. She would admit, Ian was extremely attractive, but she was more than content with Howard.

Brietta immeadiately made her way over to Ian, glad to find someone she knew. Brietta was a big people person and enjoyed being in the company of others more than being by herself. Well, others that she deemed worthy enough to be friends with her. Yeah, Brietta really could be that stuck up. "Hey there stranger. What brings you here this early?" she joked as she came up next to him, smirking slightly. Bee wasn't one-hundred percent sure if he would recognize her. Well, be able to tell if she was her sister or not. But it was always fun when people mixed them up, too.

[ian carson nyquist]

While Ian was a huge people person, sometimes he just really liked to be alone. This was one of those moments. Well, sort of. While he wouldn't mind talking to a friend or even a complete stranger, he didn't mind being by myself for a few hours. He was exhausted for one, having been up all night, out on the beach by himself. He wasn't trying to be a recluse. Sometimes, though, even a sociable guy like Ian needed to get a break from people, need time to sort themselves out. It had been a clear night; the sky was an expanse of pure navy, dotted sparingly by twinkling stars. The sound of the waves had been so calming that he had fallen asleep momentarily on the sand. That was before some thug guys walked up to him on the beach. He had woken up with their clambering and bolted off the beach. He checked the clock when he had gotten into the apartment. It was well past two in the morning.

Ian stretched his arms languidly over his head, his coffee warm in his cold hand. When he brought his arm back down, he rubbed his face, darkened by five o' clock shadow. It was then that Ian realized that he hadn't even brushed his teeth that morning, that he was badly in need for a shave, and besides that, he really needed a shower. He scratched his scalp, cricking his neck. Man, had he slept awkwardly on his pillow or what? He felt so sore. Whether that was from his hour long football game with some frat boys a few days ago or it was from sleeping on the beach, he had no idea. But either way, he was pretty damn sore. Wind whistled in his ears, causing a shiver to shoot up his spine. He felt goosebumps rise on his neck, so he popped up the collar on his jacket, blocking the wind from the sides of his face. He took another sip of his drink, sighing when he stopped. The warm liquid slid down his throat cleanly, warming his body almost instantly. The caffeine buzz kicked in, and for the first time that morning, Ian felt a bit more alive.

"Hey there, stranger," someone had said. "What brings you here this early?"

Ian turned around to see Bee Kingston, his girlfriend's twin sister and his best friend's girlfriend, walking right towards him. He gave a small smile from behind his cup while he was taking a sip. He cleared his throat and leaned casually against the car again. "Your boyfriend's snoring," he answered cooly. He could tell that the girl wasn't his girlfriend by the way she walked. The gait was more... steady, more proud, whereas his girlfriend was a bit more reserved, a bit more modest. It definitely wasn't Lorie because Lorie would either come up from behind and grab his eyes to trick him. And she definitely wouldn't use a line like, "Hey, stranger". Maybe that was why he chose the quieter of the Kingston girls; she fit Ian better. Ian wouldn't strut the way Bee would. He would look really girly and really immodest. That was not the kind of guy he was. "What about you? I didn't pin you as an early bird."

[brietta genevieve kingston]

I ASKED A QUESTION, GIVE ME AN
ANSWER YOULL SAY THE WORD AND
I WILL DISAPPEAR

---

If it wasn't for their identical appearance, no one would ever guess that Brietta and Lorelai were twins, or even related. They were as different as chocolate and vanilla, white and wheat, Wal-mart and Marc Jacobs. Brietta, to begin with, was that girl back in high school who you either loved to hate or you desperately wished you were like her. She always had her nose in the air and walked like someone who thought very highly of themself. And Bee did think very highly of herself.

unfinished!