Part 2: ninety-nine problems

                                    

                                          
A/N: Mentions of eating disordered behavior.


Sapphire and Alice sit hunched over the breakfast nook shovelling greasy burgers into their mouths and nursing mimosas, their bodies wracked with terrible hangovers. The afternoon sun is completely blocked out by the curtains as they groan with regret, praying that the grease will save them from punishing their livers the night before. It's not the best habit to get into every morning after they've indulged too much, but after Alice left the ballet, she began to realize that, for years, she hadn't been eating normally. 
Most of the dancers would eat an apple and a few ounces of peanut butter for lunch and just fill up on water. It wasn't uncommon to see someone pass out in the middle of an all-day rehearsal after their bodies had been through the ringer. At first, it surprised her, and then it became normal. The obsession around what you ate was insidious. After she had been with the company for a few years, she began to fall into similar habits. 
The culture around ballet "demands" certain bodylines and a lean aesthetic that goes against how much a dancer should be eating. She knows this now. It took working with a psychiatrist to get her to realize that. Alice suspects that poor nutrition was a factor in her knee injury. 
Now, she eats whatever she wants. Happily.
Sapphire hums contentedly as she dips her fries into some honey mustard sauce and smiles.
"This was a genius idea."
"Courtesy of you," Alice says as they clink glasses.
Alice and Sapphire have been living together for a year and a half. Six months after Alice started at Empire, Sapphire broke things off with her ex and needed a place to stay. Alice let her sleep on the couch, one thing led to another, and they moved into a two-bedroom apartment just off the strip. 
She likes having another person in the house, and Sapphire is a great roommate. She cooks the most amazing food and always cleans up after herself. They have dance parties in the kitchen in the mornings, watch shitty TV together, and Sapphire knows all the best clubs to go to that are tourist-free. 
Alice looks over at Jeff who is still passed out on the couch. The three of them were up late last night drinking and watching re-runs of Jersey Shore. It's now 3:00pm and, along with the headache, Alice feels like she wasted the entire day. Sapphire takes a sip of her drink.
"So, the big guy," she says with a smile. "You said his name is Bucky?"
"Nickname, yeah. Middle name is Buchanan."
"Probably fake."
Alice chuckles.
"That's what I thought at first. But do you really think someone would lie about their middle name being Buchanan? Wasn't he, like, the worst President of all time?"
"That's a good point," Sapphire mumbles as she pops another french fry into her mouth. "What was he like? The Big Guy, not Buchanan. I know he sucks."
Alice shrugs.
"He's sweet. Really shy."
"Shy? With a body like that?" Alice rolls her eyes and Sapphire throws her head back and laughs. "What?! Dude could get pussy in a nunnery."
Alice chokes on her burger and downs her mimosa to keep from accidentally dying. 
"You like that, huh?" Sapphire asks with a grin.
Alice's face is bright red from laughing. 
"That might be your best joke yet. You really should ask Sylvia to let you do standup before your sets."