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Midnight had been a bust, the meager attempt at getting out and celebrating having proven nothing but a mood sourer instead of the cheering up she'd been hoping for. The rooftop party had proven fruitless - no new friends, no gushing over her outfit, no decent grub to snack on. Even coming back home in the wee hours, there had been nothing worth stealing from in the communal fridge - regardless if it had her name on it or not.

So, in lieu of actually being productive for the first day of the year, Prissy had spent the majority of the first morning of 2017 in bed with the pink comforter pulled far up over her head. It didn't matter that her hair was a hot mess, pink curls tangled around her pillow like a unkempt lion's mane. It didn't matter that her candy cane colored pajama bottoms didn't match the bubblegum pink tank top she'd thrown on, or the tiny hole in the side of her shirt that she knew was secretly trying to grow bigger every time she wore it. None of it mattered.

As far as Priscilla Stratford was concerned, 2017 could join 2016 and just go away altogether.

The Pepto pink iPhone let off a small chime and buzzed against the wooden nightstand next to the bed. Prissy let out a low growl and pulled the thick blanket even further over her head, tucking herself into the bed completely.

It chimed again. And then again.

The constant buzzing sent the phone rumbling across the surface of the table and just as the young woman with monstrously tangled hair jerked free of the blanket to slap the offending object, it toppled off the edge and onto the carpet below. Her palm stung from the hard slap directly onto the wood, but her irritation at being disturbed overpowered her recollection of actually being injured.

Leaning over, she snatched the phone from the ground and slid the screen open to see what in the world could be so important to pester her at...oh, nearly eleven in the morning.

One of the various goofy Snaps she'd taken of KittyKat popped to the top of the inbox. Really? She had to pester her, when she could just waltz next door and ask her questions directly?

To emphasize her point, one bare foot jutted out from beneath the covers and kicked against the wall, signaling to her neighbor that she'd received the message, followed by a loud, "You CAN come IN here, YOU KNOW."

Pausing, she waited for a response. It took several moments for her to actually remember that Kat was actually no longer residing in the neighboring bedroom, which might have explained the lack of tasty snacks she couldn't steal from the fridge the night before.

Right. Boyfriend troubles.

Huffing softly, she took to her phone.

[Text to KittyKat: dont be a brat]
[Text to KittyKat: im at chase's]
[Text to KittyKat: come pick me up & we'll do brunch]


She reread her messages, then tacked on at the end:

[Text to KittyKat: idc if i have to ride that deathtrap u call a bike]


Tossing her phone back onto the nightstand, she let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped back down onto her pillow.

[Text to KittyKat: if it scratches me, i'm kicking it ]

If luck would have it, she wouldn't even have to lay eyes on the little bugger.

Slowly kicking off the blankets, she allowed her naked feet to feel the coarse carpet instead of the fluffy pink bed, toes wiggling around to awaken themselves. She yawned, stretched and eventually stood up completely as her eyes glanced over towards the small closet attached to the room.

Kat wouldn't care what outfit she wore, but Prissy cared. Well, okay, Prissy halfway cared - she was still of the mindset that the new year could go screw itself.

Padding over to the door, she nudged a fallen stuffed pony out of the way and forced the door open. Stuffed animals and decorations still remain strewn across the room from her temper tantrum months prior, once a certain unnamed General had received a certain unnamed sentence that had caused her to go into a fit.

She'd clean it up later. Maybe.

Her heart wasn't into being a fashionista, so she found the closest matching items and tossed them out onto the bed. A somewhat decent pink dress and some white leggings. Meh. It'd do.

Brushing her hair proved a harder task than dressing, but soon enough she had her pink curls tamed, her boots located and donned and she was out the bedroom door and making her way back towards the kitchen. As she passed through the home, the eerie quietness was more blatantly apparent with the knowledge that no one was there. Most of the inhabitants were just... gone.

Grabbing the kibble from the pantry door, she rolled her eyes as she heard the soft meow and padding of feet against the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor. She poured enough to last the furball a few days at least, then stuffed the bag unceremoniously back into its home.

Sighing, she glanced out the kitchen window and debated what coat was most appropriate to wear - and what breakfast would be cheapest to purchase.

The horn blared, the sound only partially deafened by the walls separating her from the outside world. A hiss and the cat darted back to the depths of wherever it was it had been summoned from, its fur barely brushing against her white leggings upon its exit.

"Coming, coming," She muttered softly, moving to snatch her lighter jacket from the coat rack before slipping her way out the door. At least KittyKat had brought out her "new" car, as opposed to the motorbike that would no doubt ruin the hair she'd just slaved over perfecting.

The cold bit at her legs and fingers as she hurried her way to the car, shuffling down the driveway until she could swing the old VW's door open and slide into the passenger's seat.

"Mornin," She muttered, glancing over at the other girl and noting the expression on her face. Her own expression softened and she leaned over to nudge her best friend while adding, "Happy New Years, KittyKat."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the mention of ignoring the text messages - eyes staring straight ahead, focusing on the front door as she did her best to try to remember if she locked it as she left. "Went to a party at the last minute, else I would have invited you. Was a dud anyways."

Moving one hand up, she brushed her hair over the shoulder and pulled her long wallet out from her jacket pocket, settling it in her lap. Fingers played with the clasp as she tilted her head, thinking over the question.

"Some place that sells strawberries. I'm feeling in the mood for strawberries."

Pause.

"Or a good mimosa."

"Hey, hey."

She nudged the other girl a little bit harder, concern etched across her otherwise flushed face. Despite the warmth of the car, Prissy couldn't help but feel a bit of a shiver - was it from the cold, though? Or maybe it was the memory of the homeowner who no longer was around to own his home that she kept thinking about?

The hand on her hair moved to rub gently across her lips, a faint memory giving her a momentary wisp of nostalgia. Shaking her head, she laughed and moved down, popping her wallet open. Two twenties came out and she flashed them in KittyKat's direction.

"No, we'll find a breakfast nook to crash in, I'll order two mimosas and you'll order an OJ - they won't know the difference when we swap. It'll be fantastic."

Dropping the money in her companion's lap, she moved to yoink out her cell phone and tapped a few search words into Google. A few options popped up and she clicked the first. Hoisting the phone up, she offered the GPS coordinates up to her.

"Let's go here. We'll make the most of a cruddy morning - restart the day, right?"

Her questioning caught Prissy off guard, the GPS wavering in her hand for a brief moment before she let out a curt scoff. "No, I just woke up, is all. Gotta give me time to get my priss on."

Her legs crossed and she glanced over to look out her passenger window. A couple was out strolling the outdoor shopping area, the woman with a baby stroller while the man walked a small dog. Ahead of them, an elderly woman in a windbreaker that Prissy would never be caught dead in was speed walking, her arms moving exaggeratedly up into the air with every step.

Turning back, she grinned, "Besides, it's the start of the new year. You look like you could use a break."

Patting her knee with her free hand, her wallet jingled softly. "But don't expect this niceness to last. I prefer to be more honest than to sugarcoat everything...including your new deathtrap. Four wheels instead of two doesn't make it automatically better."

"Well, I'm your best friend because I'm perfect, right?"

The car pulled into the closest parking spot, the quaint little brunch spot a welcoming sight to see. It meant not only would she finally have something to fill her growling stomach, but it meant escape from the line of questioning she was currently being subjected to.

Swinging the car door open, she unclicked her seat belt and clutched tightly to her striped wallet as she pulled herself up from within the old VW. "It better be pink - these kinds of cars with racing stripes just look dumb, you know. Keep that sort of nonsense to your bike."

With that delightful comment, she trotted her way towards the front door, yanking the dark handle and pulling it back with a flourish as the heels of her boots clicked their way against the stone flooring. Slowly inhaling, she took in the warmth of the restaurant and the sweet smell of fruits and pastries for a moment before searching for the closest open booth.