Anna's phone chimes, piercing their ear drums, her and Harry's only a few inches apart. They've been sharing the queen-sized mattress. No decorative pillows, forbidden for sleeping on. Not even a bed frame. Some nights, Harry would sleep on their springy, green futon. But those days became fewer and farther between. Unless they'd gotten in a tiff or one of them had worked a late shift, they usually opted for a platonic slumber beside one another. Sharing the mattress on those creaky floorboards and rug with questionable stains, they cling to one another as they would with their favorite stuffed animal. It's out of pure instinct. Solely for comfort. An anchor to keep them in the deep waters in a comfortable slumber.

"Bloody hell. Why is your alarm going off? Don't we have the day off?" Harry smothers himself with his cheap near-featherless pillow.

"It's not an alarm. Someone's ringing me." Anna clears her throat as she slaps her hands against the charcoal gray sheets, sans comforter. "It's Adam..."

"Adam?" Harry's voice is muffled from under the mass of fabric. He throws the pillow off his face quickly, slamming it on his lap. His face is distraught. An ex boyfriend? Someone from the bar? "Who's Adam?"

"He's... um... he's my brother..." She scrolls through the menus of her phone. "Shit. I have three missed calls from him."

"Wait, you have a brother?"

"Yes," she says directly. She's short. She hopes less explanation will mean less questioning. Less burdened answers.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He sits ups. The early morning sun spills through the cracks of the halfway-opened blinds, streaking his face. He's briefly upset about the secret but also remembers he hasn't been completely upfront with her either.

"I mean... I haven't seen him in a while. He and my dad got in a pretty big fight a few months ago and Adam sort of... disappeared? I guess that's fair to say."

"Well, what does he want?"

"I don't know. He texted. Hold on." She clicks through her phone and finds iMessage.

Adam: Mom's been calling me. Where are you, Na?

Anna: I'm fine. She didn't tell you already? She's ridiculous. Couldn't take it anymore, you know?

Adam: I get it. Where are you? Can I see you?

Anna: I'm fine. No need to worry.

She locks her phone and sets it to the side to rub her temples.

"Y'okay?" Harry turns on his side to face her, folding the pillow under his head to prop it up higher and look at her more directly. His arms and chest flex with concern. He grits his jaw, the muscles protruding with every bite down.

"I'm fine," she responds, tearing at a loose string at the hem of their sheets. "I actually picked up a half shift for Savannah. Come hang out with me? I'll buy you a drink." She wiggles her eyebrows in an attempt to entice him.

Harry slams his pillow on her face with a laugh. "I was already planning on it. I can give you a ride!"

Since moving in together, Anna and Harry have become a cliche — attached at the hip. They know in the backs of their minds the dependency may very well become (or already be) an issue. But they've chosen to push it so far to the barriers of their skulls, they've seemed to forget the potential repercussions. Delayed gratification is a moot point. The ease they feel when together is all that matters.

Anna finishes getting ready. Minimal makeup. A stretched white v-neck she borrowed from Harry. She feels at par with the self-imposed, physical requirements of work.

Harry kneels at the front door and pats his kidneys, signaling for her to jump on board, a request she quickly obliges. He finds a way to make the monotonous fun. After his request for them to have every shift together, some outliers still rose to the surface. But he made time to sit at the bar and feign interest in the women that approached him as he observed her in his peripheral vision.

Harry goes down the stairs, step by step, until they enter The Dry Martini for her shift. Anna thanks Harry for the "ride" to work.

"Traffic was terrible today. Glad we decided to carpool." Harry winks.

* * *

Harry delicately hits the keys of the piano on stage. It plays a beautiful melody that rings throughout the wooden rafters of the establishment. The bar is dead.

"That's pretty. Where did you learn that?" Anna wipes down the bartop. They're in the midst of a heated game of 20 Questions. It's a game they play frequently when The Dry Martini was slow. However, learning the unknown presence of her brother made Harry more insistent to play with more serious questions at hand.

"Nope! You're in the hot seat, sweetheart!" Harry plays the beginning of Beethoven's fifth symphony first movement. The ominous tune reverberates off the walls and the few patrons. He watches the crinkled neck at the top of her shirt. How it falls on her neck, the clavicle popping sweetly underneath in concentration. How her irises glow in the reflection of the newly-washed bar. How she blushes like a virgin bride when he talks to her. The quick glances eat at him. He internally tosses and turns, wondering if he should admit the innocent feelings. "You were supposed to tell me about your first time!"

The front door of the bar slams open, the knob nearly destroying the drywalll. A tall, strong man steps through. His dark hair falls in front of his worried face. His eyes scan from side to side of the bar. There's a glimmer of happiness behind his concern.

"THERE YOU ARE!" The man says, locking eyes with Anna. He's an anomaly. He has a straight- yet crooked-tooth smile. He looks both happy and concerned. The tense look in his eyes seems to soften at the sight of Anna. "Where the fuck have you been?"

He steps towards her aggressively, his heavy size-13 shoes pounding against the floorboards. His broad shoulders heave in her direction with purpose.

Harry sits up from the piano in immediate defense of his best friend. He's ready to get in the line of fire. Step in front of the spray of bullets and defend what means most to him.

Harry scurries down the short row of stairs of the stage. He hops over the bar in a swift motion and grounds himself in front of her. A soldier readying himself for battle.

"Adam?" Anna's dainty, blonde head peers from behind Harry. She places her hands on Harry's knotted shoulder blades, letting him know it's okay. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been trying to get ahold of you but you've been dodging me." Adam steps to the bar, resting his elbows on the weathered wooden countertop. He looks up at his sister's protector. "Who's this?"

"Harry." She steps around her friend and stands in front, a signal to both of the alpha males ahead of her that she is in control of the situation. She maneuvers Harry back behind her, letting him know it's okay.

Adam has always been Anna's biggest supporter, and has always encouraged her rebellious behavior. But Harry and Anna have been living in their own bubble. The disturbance, welcomed or not, throws off the fragile ecosystem they've developed on their own. Habits are interrupted. Routines are broken.

Knowing what he knows about Anna's family, Harry feels as though he has no choice but to become defensive. He places a hand on the small of Anna's back and stands beside her, geared up to defend whatever point she needs to make, whether it be arguing in favor of her friendship with him, working at a dive bar, or any of the other decisions that may come under scrutiny from her family. He establishes himself as the protector. The role he's always wanted.

She's MY responsibility. Will I have to fight for my rightful spot?

"How'd you find me?" Anna asks. Her heart races and then slows. Her brother is both anxiety-inducing and also comforting.

"You're on my phone plan, remember?" Adam brings out his cell and presents the evidence. "You have your location on, you shithead."

"You fucker!" Anna steps forward and slaps her brother with the dirty washcloth she's been using to clean the counters. Adam fakes pain, grimacing in response to her aggression. "Like I said, this is Harry. He's my —" She contemplates how to finish the sentence. What is he to her, truly? Harry's eyes gleam back at her. In those few short seconds, Anna remembers sweet moments with the man she met at Shady Oaks.

Harry looks at her, square in the eye, letting her know he's there for her. And he smiles as he tucks her hair behind her ear.

She settles for a happy middle ground. "He's my best friend. Best friend, meet best friend." She laughs at the introduction, yet still nervous.

"Pleasure," Adam shakes Harry's hand.

Harry and Adam's knuckles press against each other. Harry's fingers crack.

"Nice to meet you," Harry responds, resisting an immediate reaction.

Anna looks from Adam to Harry. "We can talk after, Adam. I still have a shift to finish." She eyes the two of them during the uncomfortable interaction. "What can I get you both to drink?"