Hours Back...
Atlanta walked through the dimly lit streets after her shift at the nearby club, her steps echoing in the quiet. The place was close to their apartment, which was why she had picked the job—it saved on time and late-night Uber fares. When she got home, the soft glow of a lamp illuminated Chione sitting on the couch, her face calm but serious.
"We're moving," Chione said flatly, her voice as cool as her namesake.
Atlanta blinked, dropping her bag on the couch. "Wait, what? We just got here. What's the rush, I like it here already?"
Chione shrugged. "Stuff got messy. We've got to move when Cassandra says we should, you know what I mean. Can't stay."
Cassandra, already lounging on the counter with a drink in hand, chimed in. "It's not like it'll be hard to settle somewhere else. Took us, what, a day to lock down this place and get gigs? Easy peasy. Moving again is no biggie, honestly."
