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cloveroctobers · 3 months

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COMEDY — SYDNEY ADAMU [Summer Writings]

A/N: always imagined writing for Syd and I guess the time has finally arrived…only took three seasons but my girl deserves better and better is what she’s gonna get from me! This piece is set mostly in the final episode of season three as a heads up ❤️

S|N: there was a prompt list that I wanted to go off of to use for you the reader but now I can’t find it so I’m just going off the little I remember. Which is: you being a cyclist.

WARNINGS: language, self-doubt, neighbor trope, + mentions of sexual harassment.

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Having a new neighbor was interesting to say the least. You didn’t think she was fond of you after running into her twice, sneaking in the first time and nearly running your bike over her feet as she seemed to be in a rush herself. She looked as if she was the type of person that if she knew that she had to be somewhere by a certain time, she would be there much earlier than needed.

You on the other hand? Operated on your own time, not sticking to routines as much after your quest to turn into a pro cyclist fell through, and you were stuck working a shitty retail job down at the dollar general (shut out to your general studies degree, your mother did aways say you should have studied something more valuable although she didn’t go to college herself and felt like her money was wasted on you compared to your older sister who lived in South Africa as a zoologist)…where you basically came in when you wanted since the manager never knew how to schedule the four of you—yes—FOUR of you properly. You did what you needed to survive, just like anyone.

The second time you got her attention was when you buzzed her apartment, annoyingly on her day off, contemplating about the contract agreement in the emptiness of her living room.

“Uh…yeah?” She pressed.

“Oh good! You’re home. I thought I was going to have to bug Anita instead and she’s the last one I want to talk to.”

“Who’s Anita?” Sydney paused before asking although she had a feeling who, “And who am I speaking with?”

“She’s on our floor,” you shift from one leg to the other feeling the violent urge to pee, “with the big 80’s curly hair, she talks to herself and at times it is a little concerning and she’s a bit of a Karen. You’ll know once you see her when she’s constantly asking if you live here after seeing her a handful of times and as for me? I’m one of your best neighbors, Ms. Lady with the Colorful hair scarfs.”

“It’s Sydney.” She replies and you nod your head finding that name to be fitting, “Oh yeah, the other guy with the abnormally big octopus tattoo on his cheek told me about you. You always forget to bring your keys, right?”

Oscar.

You thought to yourself in irritation, “Oscar raw dog’s his crocs, so you shouldn’t take his word for anything.”

Sydney laughs, finding this apartment building much more entertaining (so far) than the one she left previously behind but never her dad. “Am I sensing a little tension there or…”

“That’s another story for another time! Can you please buzz me in or else I’m going to have to go right on this sidewalk and I really don’t need another public indecency charge.”

You were honest, Sydney could admit but she also didn’t want to be the one to let a stranger, if you were a stranger into the building if you weren’t really who you said you were you know?

“…how do I know you really live here and aren’t just stalking one of the other tenants?” Sydney quizzed, trying to remember just what you looked like in passing.

“Because stupid Oscar told you I like to forget my keys on purpose?” You remind while Sydney slowly realizes this, although you can’t see this revelation on her face you keep going, “I live at the end of the hall from you, I even used to date Oscar’s sister, but she cheated on me and tried to gaslight me and then took the dog—which honestly looked like a fucking dust bunny in the dark so I’m not really all that upset about it—

“What kind of dog?” She chortles, but the curiosity is also evident beneath it.

You started dancing to the beat of The Fresh Prince in your head, which somehow always worked when you were about to piss on yourself—apologies for being unladylike or unpersonlike but hey when you have to go you have to go, “some Asian breed that starts with a P…Pekingese? Yeah Pekingese!”

“…I don’t know what the hell that is?” Sydney pats at her scalp.

“It’s like a failed experiment of a pug and Pomeranian!” You inform, “It’s actually awful looking, and my know it all sister would scold me for being discriminatory to animals but whatever! Um, How else can I convince you person in the nice cold building while I’m out here at risk of getting a heat stroke?! The basement is horror level scary so if you have to go down there—make sure you have somebody with you or just don’t? There’s also a squeaky floorboard in the middle of our hallway, a weird stain on the wall that’s shaped like a top hat?” You ramble.

A buzzing noise sounds right after your last word and you deeply exhale, yanking the front door open to hold with your backside while you rolled your bike in. “Thanks neighbor! Hope to run into you soon.”

“Ah, dont mention it!” You hear Sydney call, “and maybe invest in a clip for your keys?”

“With the way my cobweb bank account is set up? Not likely, girl! Timmy the toilet is calling my name! Catch you later!”

Sydney shakes her head, letting go of the button to glance at her open laptop and sigh choosing to head into the kitchen instead for some frozen waffles for dinner.

Despite the fact that Sydney is hardly at her new apartment, she finds a paper bag with handles on her door knob when she gets in one night. Carefully she peeks in it while opening the door to her apartment, once inside she pulls out a new satin scarf. It’s a golden yellow with white polka dots on it with a note attached.

~Welcome to the building + thanks for letting me in the other day. I think you’ll like this? If not? I’d never know! —your neighbor ____at 84H.

Which started something between you two without really knowing each other. All you knew was each other’s names now, you had handwriting that honestly resembled calligraphy—something Sydney would have never guessed you were into but you also picked up that when you did see Sydney, she seemed to have a scarf covering her braids majority of the time. She wore them well so you thought why not? It wasn’t anything overly expensive but it was thought that counts?

~What’s your go to midnight snack? —your neighbor Syd @ 84D.

Was on a lime green post it on your door days later. It became your thing, leaving little notes every couple of days on each others door, in a way it became a silent message to let each other know that you both were still around even if you never had the chance to officially be face to face.

So you attempted to draw a horrible picture of what that may be and then drew an x right over it. You weren’t crafty in that way, writing a message beside the terrible picture saying: a struggle meal. A grilled cheese but jelly as the cheese and jalapeño chips. Are you a board game person or video gamer?

Days seemed to get hectic after that in the both of your lives that the post it game seemed to die down just a little. Summer hours seemed to increase since the two teenagers that you worked alongside of preferred to be outside rather than inside—you didn’t blame them. One of them ended up quitting, the other lied and said they sprained their ankle but their Instagram said they were really hanging out at the river, so it was down to you and your elderly coworker Janice, who was actually in chronic pain, and then your manager was “temporarily,” on leave after a customer complained of sexual harassment.

The look you and Janice shared said enough, you believed the customer.

So now you had a new manager from fucking North Dakota…you had no clue what was even out there and they had a whole different approach. They had a neighborly spirit that you wished the scarce people at your building had—except for Sydney of course. The new manager was actually out on the floor, greeting customers and asking if they needed any help! They even gave you and Janice a choice during your eight hour shift, you can alternate between the register and stocking or just pick your role for the shift. They also kept checking in making sure the both of you were well mentally (ha!) and if you needed to take a ten minute break before your actual lunch.

She was a dream but definitely wouldn’t last.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” The North Dakotan asked, already in her pick up truck as you fumbled around with the chains to your bike.

Janice already beeped her horn twice in her Volkswagen Beetle, speeding out of the parking lot with Fleetwood Mac flowing from the windows. You snickered, hand waving in the air as you turned back to the chains, finally getting it unlocked.

“Thanks for the offer but one thing about me, I love this bike more than anything and as long as I can still ride it? I’ll choose this over any car or train any day.”

The manager smiles, “alright then, you have a good night. Get home safe, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.”

You’re limping towards your apartment, it’s late and the sky had this milky fog to hide the sense of dread—or was it grief that sat in your heart? You’re just at your door, body sore, spokes ruined from your bike but as bad as you felt you heard the huffing and sniffing from your left.

Picking up on the braids right away, you know it’s Sydney and it doesn’t appear that she’s having a good night although she’s dressed as if the night was supposed to be. Leaving your bike against your door, you pause, debating if you wanted to get involved or if she would even want to bothered with you while she’s having a moment. You use the act of your post it’s as the okay to be neighborly and check on your neighbor at the end of the hall.

The hallway feels like forever to get to Sydney but her round eyes widen in bewilderment as she feels you groaning to plop down next to her.

“Oh my god,” she gasps as she scans over your features with damp under eyes, “…w-what happened to you?”

Lolling your head to meet her gaze, you grin at her, ignoring the sting of the scrape on your chin and say, “I might have saw hell not too long ago.”

Sydney shifts, using the back of her hand to wipe at her nose, “I—don’t know how to respond to that.”

You explain, “Well apparently we all have to go somewhere—if you believe in that kind of thing. And I guess the person upstairs said let me show you as I turned into a speed bump.”

“You were hit by a car?!” Sydney yells, although her own head felt like someone was letting the air out of a balloon and her heart felt like it pulsating in a way that was probably too slow, with her veins feeling like the whipping of traffic on the freeway.

You knew that look, even had some pill bottles that actually became decor pieces on your bedside table that were supposed to help calm the track runner fuzzies inside to relax…but the concern was evident on her face yet it wasn’t really about you tonight, this was your first time officially meeting and the both of you looked like shit. Well maybe you more so but Sydney definitely felt like it.

“Worse,” you say searching your back pocket for the rolled up pack of gummies, “A electric scooter, that looked a whole lot like my teenage little shit of a co-worker who’s been out on injury.”

You held out the gummy bears to Sydney, lifting your gaze to meet dark brown hues once more. There’s laughter that bubbles in her chest as she envisions it, her large front teeth poked out behind her lips.

“I don’t mean to laugh at you—

“Eh, I do it all the time! Glad I could be of service to you.” You tip your imaginary hat, “And you know what he had to nerve to say to me after we both skidded across the street? That I scuffed up his kicks, when he was on the wrong side of the road!”

Sydney cupped her mouth, other hand holding onto a green gummy bear, “No! That’s so wrong.”

“If he ever decides to come back to work…I’ve got something for him.”

“A hospital bill?”

“Oh no! Hospitals give me the ick. All medical people do.”

Sydney tilts her head to the side at this, unsure what to fully make of that but somehow understood, however felt like she should still be slightly concerned that you didn’t get yourself checked out! considering how scrapped up and how your hair was basically mangled. Also who knew what you looked like underneath your summer attire…Sydney was no doctor but you seemed kinda careless!

“I’m afraid to ask.” Sydney bites off the head of the candy.

“Stick him on the register and sneak out for the day once the lines start to pick up. I hate to do it to our new manager since she seems cool but…it’s what he deserves.” You tighten your eyes wickedly.

Sydney slowly nods her head at this and snorts, “where do you work?”

“Dollar general,” you say with a shrug, “you?”

Sydney deeply sighs, “I’m a chef.”

“Oh-ho! Chef Sydney. I knew there was something special about you, neighbor.” You state.

Sydney shakes her head, “No, it’s not anything really.”

“Are you kidding? That’s admirable! Unless…that’s what has you out here when the party is clearly inside?” You connected the dots, hearing some laughter beyond her door, quickly analyzing her face and kicking yourself for not keeping your inside thoughts to yourself in that moment.

Sydney pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and closes her eyes.

“You know…you never did get back to me on you being a board game person or a video gamer.” Your attempt to ease her anxieties was a nice gesture, really.

Sydney took her time (which you were patient to), sucking air in between her teeth and digging her palms into her eye sockets, “uh…board game. My favorite is: Sorry!”

Your eyes turn into slits at that and Sydney, slowly removes her hands from her eyes to look at you. “Really?”

“What? What’s wrong with sorry?”

You start to raise your hands in surrender but stop your movements as your everything aches, “Nothing. I would have thought clue, connect four, maybe even scrabble?”

“Scrabble?” Sydney scoffs, “I rather eat a block of blue cheese without a glass of water.”

Scrunching up your lips at that you quiz, “are you lactose intolerant?”

“Only the weak minded are.”

“Oh?! That’s not very empathic of you.”

You both match each other’s stares but you crack a smile first before Sydney follows through with a burst of laughter.

“You’re judging me? when you’re the one who isn’t empathic to your stomach and makes a grilled jelly sandwich stuffed with jalapeño chips of all things?” Sydney holds her stomach as she laughs.

You’re laughing with her while arguing, “I never specified if I stuffed it or not. It could have been on the side, thank you.”

Which only makes her laugh harder, the both of your shoulders touching as the sound echoes throughout the hall. There’s tears streaming down her cheeks again for different reasons while your stomach clenches with humor.

Of course that is broken up by someone clearing their throat. Both of you turn to Oscar who’s standing there holding his groceries.

“What’s so funny tonight ladies?”

You stop laughing so you can reply, “that outfit you thrifted.”

Oscar scowls, “now I see why my sister left you.”

“Fuck off! You’re probably the main one that supports her OnlyFans career.”

Sydney gasped at that while Oscar sent you a middle finger, leaving you two alone as he travels down the opposite hall to his apartment.

Glaring at him, he casts another glance in your direction and you do the honors of placing your own middle finger right against the lips you kissed at him. He quickly looks away, nearly throwing himself into his apartment with a slam of his door.

Leaning into Sydney again, you both laugh until it’s hard to breathe and that feeling is both familiar on both ends. Once you catch your breaths, you lean away to hold out your unscraped hand for her to shake, “Hey, Chef Sydney. It was nice talking to you and meeting you.”

“Likewise.” She gives a small smile while shaking your hand before you groan and moan getting back to your feet.

And she stays outside a little longer, mostly to collect herself and watch you make it back to your front door and battered bike. You send a peace sign as a goodnight, limping into your apartment after softly clicking your door shut.

Sydney sits, clasping her hands together thinking over that small moment, not realizing how important it would later be as the days continued on.

“There you are,” The British voice catches her attention and she takes his hand as he helps her to her feet.

Luca halts her movements, checking in with Sydney as she tries to brush away what that was from her face, although it clearly wasn’t something she could ignore as the problem was already on the surface.

She begins to follow Luca back into the party, stopping in the door way as she peeks back at your door, already thinking about what to say to you next on a lime green post it, while letting some laughter shine in her eyes.

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Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

#Spotify #queued #sydney adamu #sydney adamu x reader #Sydney adamu x f reader #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season 3 #the bear s3 #summer writings #the bear fanfiction #ayo edebiri

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