(no subject)

Lily isn't exactly the welcome wagon type, although that doesn't mean she hasn't made an effort to get to know her neighbours. Even in New York, it was always helpful to know who might be living across the hall and whether or not they were the type of person who might be useful at some point down the line.

Someone new has moved onto her floor recently and although she hasn't met him yet, she's seen him coming and going a few times. He's young, well dressed and looks like he has a hell of a lot more money than anyone else in the building which means, in at least one way, he's probably exactly the type of person she'd like to know. Even so, she isn't going to go knock on his door to introduce herself and it's only a coincidence one evening when she's coming home from the studio that she finds herself waiting for the elevator with him.

"Hi," she says, turning slightly to look at him. "I think you live on my floor. Third, right?" She knows he lives on her floor, but she's not about to say as much.

(no subject)

Some nights, Lily finds she can't be alone. She stops by Eden's place to take her out or drops by on Eames, completely unannounced but, not as far as she can tell, unwelcome. And then there are nights like this one, where she has to go out by herself. Nights when it feels like her skin is too tight, the apartment is too small, the city isn't big enough for all the things she wants and all the people she needs.

And she hates that she needs them.

It's easier to go out, find a bar, get lost in a drink and some music and maybe a conversation with a stranger.

Sometimes, in the faces of the other dancers, thin and dark haired, she catches a glimpse of Nina. But she's not here. Just like the others, she's gone. She's somewhere else.

"What do you have on tap?" she asks the bartender when she takes a seat, then glances to either side of her. There's a man and she offers him a smile. "Hey."