Chapter Text
Bradley didn’t know how on God’s green earth he managed to deserve the way his life was panning out. Well, he knew a few things, but he had always had some sick idea that lingered from his catholic guilt that maybe if he said sorry to the sky, that shit would be in the past.
First his parents had cut him off from their wealth when he maybe accidentally almost killed one of his closest friends that they had considered a second son in a fire, but hey! Tank had forgiven him! His parents however sprouted some shit about God’s light never reaching his rotten soul or something. And that’s without even knowing he was gay.
Now he was living in a cheap apartment in downtown, with a broken elevator and an AC that refused to blow anything but hot air in a heatwave. Not to mention he was stuck having to get a low level barista job at a local hippie dive to pay rent while he studied. His parents had given him the ultimatum that if he got through his degree with minimal incident they might consider letting him back into the money, and Bradley was trying his best to seem like a perfect angel.
But his fuse was running threatening low, and the thumping from upstairs was sending his brain into a homicidal state of mind.
It sounded like someone was on rollerblades or something, in an apartment , and he for the life of him couldn’t think of a single reason why you would choose to do that when you knew there were apartments under you.
Bradley had been in blissful ignorance for the past few months of living here. As of a month ago, the room above him had been occupied by a divorced miserable dad type, if his glances at him in the mail room was any indication. But a month ago it had been crickets upstairs, and he had never been so at peace.
But he had seen a moving van pull up to his apartment block late last week, and heard a lot of kerfuffling as people tried to hoist belongings up the multiple sets of stairs, and he had been unlucky to be the victim of this new tenant's heavy footfalls since then. It hadn’t been enough to warrant a trip upstairs yet, but he knew every sound was a tally to his rage.
Bradley was sat at his kitchen counter, trying to eat a bowl of home brand cheerios (that’s how bad his life had gotten) when every ten seconds it sounded like the person above him was doing dropping some kind of metal on the wooden floor. He jolted every time, and dropped his spoon a couple of times into his bowl when it was particularly loud, until he just let out a sound of fury, hanging his head in his hands.
Then it happened again, and Bradley was going to go give this person a piece of his mind, lest he go check into a psych ward so he could put his name down on the waitlist for a lobotomy.
He dropped his spoon again, grabbing his keys and stomping his way through the hallway of his apartment without a second thought.
“Oh Bradley, dear-“
“Not now Janice, sweetheart, I have to attend to something upstairs.” Bradley said in a tight but sweet voice as he passed the old lady who usually talked to him for a solid 5 minutes every morning about her grandkids and asking him what he was doing at school and where his girlfriend was. Bradley could care less, but he had been taught to respect his elders, even if they were annoying and had breath that smelt like sardines and old pennies.
“But—“
“I’ll talk to you later okay? I’ll be a minute.”
Bradley climbed the stairs two at a time, holding onto the railing for support until he got to the 4th and top floor.
He had worked out in his head which apartment would be the one above his in his head, screeching to a halt directly out the front of it and rapping his hands too many times to be polite. He could hear music wafting through the door, which he distantly clocked as Powerline, but he didn’t get a chance to identify the song before the door swung open.
It was a guy who seemed like he was in his early twenties, dressed in an oversized and boxy white muscle tee and loose fitting jeans covered in various patches. He was holding a skateboard in his arms, cocking his head to the side curiously as he looked Bradley up and down. “Uh.. Hello?”
Bradley found himself speechless for a moment, lost in the far too pretty dark eyes that stared back at him, and the glint of the piercings that adorned his face, god damn it why did his obnoxious upstairs neighbor have to be hot. He looked like he had just woken up, hair mussed and eyes lidded. He radiated an effortlessly cool vibe that Bradley found himself slightly jealous of.
“You… are you fucking skateboarding inside? Who the hell does that?” He sputtered out, waving angrily at the board, too overwhelmed by all this new information, and just falling back on his frustrated anger.
The guy’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked down at his board, before looking back at Bradley. “Uh, yeah? And who are you?” He paused, squinting at Bradley’s face, and he felt far too perceived. “Someone who had a little bit too much fun last night?” He gestured to his face, and Bradley’s hand instinctively reached up to touch his cheek. God fucking damn it there was milk on his face. Of course there was. The guy laughed, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt into a puddle of rage.
He wiped it off angrily, letting out a small string of curses. “I’m the person who lives underneath you. Who has to hear every time you get on that hideous board of yours.”
“That’s a long name. Does it fit on your birth certificate?” His voice was innocent, but the smug little smirk he had on his face was the exact opposite.
“Well that’s mature, didn’t your parents ever teach you consideration for other people?”
“Wow, a lecture on maturity from the person in a pair of silk shorts covered in peach and water droplet emojis.”
Bradley’s cheeks lit up, looking down to confirm that yes, he was wearing the shorts that Tank had gotten him for his 22nd birthday as a gag gift. They never saw the light of day, but they were far too comfortable to not wear as pajamas.
“What’s your problem huh?” Bradley demanded.
“I didn’t have one, but then you came at me so hard dude.” He raised a hand in defense and Bradley felt like his body was filled with boiling liquid that was about to cascade from his mouth.
“You god damn fucking—“ he cut himself off, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep, steadying breath. He was above this, he was better then dragging himself down to kicking and screaming like a toddler because some attractive alt boy was being a little shithead.
“Mmhm. Okay. I believe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Bradley. Uppercrust.” He paused. “The third.”
The man looked like he was trying to hold back laughter, but he bit it back. “I’m Max. The first.” His smug little grin didn’t leave his face however, and Brad was trying his hardest to remember his breathing exercises Martha, his nanny growing up, had taught him.
“Pleasure.” The word was tight, and Bradley brushed down his shirt, trying to somehow maintain an air of dignity, even if it was lost to the peach shorts and the tank top he was wearing.
“I’m sure.”
“Can you… please. Stop skateboarding inside your house.” His smile was the one he reserved for getting what he wanted, a sickly sweet affair that almost hurt the corners of his mouth.
Max just shrugged. “Okay Uppercrust.” He rolled his tongue a little on the word. He didn’t move however, just tapped his fingers against the top of his board, head still cocked to the side to observe him, and Bradley decided that he had had quite enough of this stare down.
Bradley nodded tightly. “Good. Good then.” He coughed, turning on his heels and speeding back down the hall.
He felt eyes on him as he walked, like little pinpoints burning holes into his back, but he didn’t look, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. He however blanched as the raven haired man shouted after him. “Good meeting you, neighbour.” His voice was laced with amusement. Bradley didn’t dignify that with a response.
When Bradley got back down to his floor, Janice was standing at her door again, and he let out a sigh from deep in his chest as he passed her.
“I was going to mention, dear, that you had something on your face.”
“Thanks. Thanks Janice. Sorry but I’ve got something to attend to in my apartment. I’ll talk to you later okay?” He beamed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, before he disappeared into his apartment. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, and let himself have a moment to re-centre himself before he got on with his day.
Of course it was his luck that some kid was skateboarding in his apartment above him. Of course he was. That was totally normal. Adding it to the list of things that was apparently going wrong in his life, like he didn’t have enough. And he was attractive. And not to mention, mouthy. He could think of a few things he would rather see that mouth do. Fuck, no, not that. Not that at all. Bradley was not about to have sexual thoughts about the most annoying person he had yet to meet in his apartment complex. And that was saying a lot.
He set himself out to have a better day, now that he confronted his neighbor, and he started by washing that cheerio bowl and gathering his dirty laundry. He even got changed to try and combat the feeling you get on your day off from not doing anything.
However it was only 30 minutes later, when he was finally starting to feel better and more productive, that Bradley heard it again. The wheels, the sounds of them hitting the floor like he had fucking ramps in his house.
The groan that Bradley let out was deep and guttural, and he decided that the day was simply a rite off. All he could do now was hope that the guy upstairs would get bored, and maybe take his words to heart.
And part of him knew that was the last thing that was going to happen.
—
“Large mocha for.. Breeze?” Bradley squinted at the writing that he had just written, pushing forward the tray with the coffee balancing on it. He didn’t care to find out which of the few customers milling around the counter was Breeze, he just got started on the next one, going through his newly established motions of making coffees.
It had been hard when he had started working here, he knew the owner just hired him because he got a kick out of an Uppercrust working for him, and the other workers were of a similar mindset. However he had picked up the skills shockingly quickly, to everyone’s surprise. He liked to be good at everything he tried, and prided himself on being the best. And that didn’t stop at being a barista it seemed. While it was still an embarrassing shot to his system every time he entered the Bean Scene, he often got complimented on his abilities and for all the damage to his ego, he kinda liked it. Not that he was getting paid nearly enough for all the snooty customers that somehow would manage to find a flaw in any drink he made, he liked the routine. It kept him busy.
However, it was at its worst when someone he knew came in. Occasionally Tank would come in and sit with him for a couple of hours, whether it was to study or talk shit with him, either way, he enjoyed the company from him. It was worse when other people came in from his ex-fraternity. There was either the people that got a kick out of seeing him there, would taunt him a little and then order something complicated to see if they could throw him. But the pity ones were worse.
He was revered when he was the head of the Gamma’s, people used to throw themselves at his feet to be a part of it, or to please him in some way. Now sometimes people would come in, and give him a smile that just crawled its way into Bradley’s brain and stayed there. Uppercrust’s didn’t do pity.
It was a fairly quiet morning, classes had just started and it was mainly just people milling around during their first free period, some with laptops studying, or others scrolling endlessly on their phones to kill the hour. Bradley was on by himself, which didn’t phase him. He had gotten comfortable enough by now, as much as he hated to admit.
Bradley was zoned in on the hissing steam of the coffee machine, wiping down the wand and calling names.
“So that’s where I’ve seen you.”
Bradley’s body froze, and his head jerked up to the all too familiar voice coming from the payment counter. Max was leaning over the bench, wide grin playing on his pierced lips. He seemed thrilled to see him, and Bradley couldn’t help to think it was in the same way that a cat would mess with its next meal.
“Oh great. You. Come to be a menace here now?”
Bradley yelped as the milk overflowed the jug that he was holding, and he threw it down on the counter. God damn it. Getting burnt milk off the jugs was the worst.
“Not usually. But seeing as you’re here..” Max rested his head on the palm of his hand as he watched Bradley fetch a cloth and wipe up the spill.
“What the hell do you want?” He drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at him like he had just come in and pissed on the floor or something.
“A coffee, preferably.”
God he was such a smart ass. “So bold of you to ask the man you have royally pissed off to make you a beverage.”
“I mean it’s your job isn’t it?” Max’s voice was annoyingly sweet, gesturing to his apron with his free hand. “I’ll have a double cap, please Brad.”
“Don’t call me Brad.”
Max just laughed, and tapped his phone on the payment screen.
He then started digging around in his pocket, fishing out a crumpled 5 dollar bill. “Here.”
Bradley turned his nose up at him, looking between the note and the boys face like he had personally kicked his grandma. “I don’t want your charity .”
“It’s a tip, dude. It’s a nice thing.”
Everything in Bradley’s body was screaming at him to not accept it, but he eyed it wearily, taking it from his hand and mumbling a reluctant thanks. Shame was coursing through his body at an alarming rate, and he couldn’t help but to think this was just another way to insult him.
Despite his better judgment, it was a kind tip for a regular coffee, and he made it to his usual high standards. Plus Max was looking at him, and he couldn’t very well spit it in while he was looking.
“Here.”
Max took it with a smile. “Thanks Bradley, see ya later.” He had the audacity to wink at Bradley before he turned on his heels to walk towards the exit. He had that board in his arms again, coffee in the other. He watched him until he disappeared up the stairs that connected the small store to the outside world.
Why did he feel like his days were about to get a lot longer?