Megan Stewart sat in the middle of her tiny apartment with tears in her eyes as she gazed around at the boxes that surrounded her. Her hands were balled in her lap. An empty Kleenex box sat beside her and she sniffled miserably into the last crumpled tissue.

There was a brisk knock and the door and without waiting for an answer, Amy Harper pushed her way into Megan's soon-to-be former apartment. "Oh God Meg don't tell me you're crying over this smelly old room again"

Megan sniffed into the tissue and tossed another pair of shoes into the marked box. "You wouldn't understand," She said tearfully as she looked around through blood-shot eyes. "This was my very first apartment"

Amy rolled her navy blue eyes and picked through Megan's drawer, tossing forgotten socks into the box. "Yeah, and now you're moving into the wonderfully perfect apartment. So, forget this and move on. Did you draw this?" She asked as she picked up one of the sketchpads scattered across the room "It's first-rate" She added when Megan only stared.

Megan had met Amy completely by accident 4 years ago when they were both 20 and Megan had been new to the city when Amy was visiting from London. After they had argued heatedly over the last pair of size 7 Christian Louboutin satin platform sandals, they bonded over Panini at the café on the corner.

Megan stood up quickly and rescued the drawing from Amy's tapered fingers. "It's not finished" She said tersely and tucked it under her arm. "You know I don't like people looking at things that aren't finished"

Amy brushed off her attitude, she understood artists far too well to be offended by them. "Look Meg, you're a kind, cheeky, gorgeous girl, and leaving this little room for an actual apartment in the city isn't going to change anything"

At these words, Megan's cocoa colored eyes began to fill with luminous tears and Amy quickly took her into her arms an crooned in her ear softly as everything she suspected Megan was keeping in until she had gotten there burst free like a river held back by a dam.

Her tawny hair was stuck to her cheeks as tears rolled down them and Amy brushed it aside and held Megan's face in her delicate hands. "You'll be fine, I promise"

Amy helped Megan finish loading everything she had stashed away in her apartment and then got more than a little drunk off a bottle of Jim Beam Black that Amy had discovered hidden in the back of the refrigerator.

They listened to loud music that made the man below Megan bang her wrinkled fist on the ceiling and Amy turned the music up louder, drowning him out completely. They hardly noticed when the sun was beginning to peak its joyful head over the tops of the other buildings.

It was around noon the next day when Amy woke up with a groan, her short black hair sticking out in every possible angle. The sun was shinning unusually bright and she let out a sound somewhere between another groan and a hiss as it hit her straight in the eyes.

When she caught sight of the clock on the opposite wall that Megan had yet to pack, she jumped to her feet, only to trip over her own legs and fall back down to the hard polished floor. Megan woke up groggily and shoved a pillow off the couch onto Amy's head.

"Shudup" Megan slurred sleepily trying her best to get comfortable on the little couch. Amy raised herself onto her elbows and tossed the pillow back at Megan, which hit her squarely in the back of the head.

"It's noon," Amy said with great difficulty as if her jaw had been wired shut. As soon as the words made it through Megan's whiskey-slowed brain, she shot up as if ice water had been poured over her and with a helpless yelp, toppled off the couch and landed directly on Amy.