hometown & length of time in br: born and raised in br, lived in new york from 18-29. moved back about 6 years ago.
✍︎ penned by: tee
☆ dot point bio | connections / pinterest / timeline
tw: death mention, pregnancy, grief.
Town local Leyla Eda Yilmaz has had a love/hate relationship with living in Briar Ridge. She loved growing up the way she did, with her dad and brother and sister. But something about New York called to her; it felt like there was nothing for her in her home town. She initially left town after graduation for Columbia University to chase success and study literature, a determination that saw her become a published writer of a two-book series some years after college. But alas, life, as it does, would get in the way. Her brother’s tragic death caused her to return to the Ridge just a decade ago. After his funeral, she pulled yet another disappearing act, leaving town for good. That is, until she fell pregnant to her then boyfriend, coming back home to raise her baby alone. Soon after Billie was born, Leyla began to work at Everything Goes, which was recently left to her by the elderly owner. Nobody can make a pastry like Evelyn Girard, but Leyla’s learnt a thing or two and come pretty close. She’s often seen making coffee, overseeing the baking process and recommending novels to those interested. When people ask why Leyla hasn’t written another novel, she quickly shuts it down by telling them that raising a daughter and running a business has taken up almost all of her time. But really, dabbling with words and emotions and throwing herself into her own writing feels impossible when she knows it brings about the possibility of having to face her grief. And that terrifies the hell out of her.
headcanons.
Every so often, she closes Everything Goes for a day to teach children in town how to bake.
Always has a book in hand, hanging out her bag, etc.
A horrible driver, genuinely. If your car has a dent in it, it's most likely due to Leyla's terrible driving.
Is always late everywhere, despite being a hard working citizen.
Wears a necklace with a small October birth stone, representative of her brother and mother's birth stone.
CANNOT live without coffee. If she looks mad, give her coffee immediately. If the coffee machine is broken at the bakery, leave. Just run.
Knows ASL
Inspired by — Lorelai Gilmore, (gilmore girls), Rachel Green (friends), Carrie Bradshaw (sex and the city), Summer Roberts (the oc) & Brooke Davis (one tree hill).
wanted connections.
sister: wanted connection link
baby daddy/ex: wanted connection link
cousins: must be turkish
childhood/high school connections: she grew up in briar ridge.
high school sweetheart: this can go any which way! but i'm thinking they broke up before/after she left for new york after graduation.
new york connections: leyla lived there for over ten years (age 18-29) and went to columbia university.
downtown neighbours: she lives in a three bedroom apartment with her daughter and Valentina Flores.
parent friends: people who understand parent life lol
coffee addicts: speaks for itself. she respects coffee lovers but just like people who need coffee like an iv drip, hanging out and talking smack/gossiping about the town. i need it!!!!
Beck doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he's too busy looking at Leyla, admiring her and those dimples—and for a split second, something in him falters at the sight. Like maybe he hadn't meant to let any of it show, or maybe he’s realizing too late just how much he wants her to know it. There’s that familiar crooked smile of his again, the one that never quite reaches both sides of his mouth. But this time, there’s something undeniably earnest in it too—something that slips past his usual guardedness.
He leans back just slightly, arms draped lazily over the back of the bench, like he's trying to play it cool, but his eyes? Are still locked on hers. Still saying things he hasn’t quite figured out how to voice out loud, yet.
“Well,” he says, voice low and edged with a quiet amusement, “if you are letting your imagination run wild… I’m not about to stop it from happening.” There's a beat, before his gaze flicks over her face, softening at the edges. “But no, you're not imagining it, Ley. I meant it.”
Just then, he leans forward a bit, his elbows now resting on his knees, his fingers loosely laced as he looks up at her. “Also yeah,” he adds, slower now, like the words are weightier than they seem to be on the surface, “I guess I am asking you out on a date. That is, if your answer's a yes?"
His smile deepens, tentatively, like the truth of what could come out of her mouth next, both scares him and thrills him at the same time. “But if you’re buying, I might let you think it was your idea.” A playful raise of his brow follows, the teasing behind it light but the intention clear underneath it.
He stands, stretching his arms over his head, shirt pulling up just enough to betray the v-shape of his hips, his wetsuits typically tend to hide. Then he offers her his hand—not because she needs help up, but because he wants to. Wants to hold hers, if she'll let him.
“Come on,” he says, glancing down at her with that warm glint in his eye. “Let’s go tame your haunted dishwasher. And after that… you can tell me what else your imagination’s been up to.”
The second she caught sight of that crooked smile of his, she was done for. Something in her chest squeezed so tight it was almost unfair.. her cheeks heated instantly, and she pressed her lips together to stop the little smile tugging at them. "I—wow, Beck.. you're not allowed to be this smooth." She looked over at the blonde now with a dimpled smile, her eyes alight with amusement and, admittedly, joy. She'd never expected Beck Foster to ask her out, but here he was.. If I'm imagining this, if I'm dreaming.. don't you dare wake me up.
Leyla feigned deep thought, letting out a soft hmm as she gazed at the ocean, even though her entire body was buzzing with nerves. She really hadn't ever thought Beck was interested in her in that way, though she had always lowkey had a crush on him. But, this.. this was completely unexpected. She turned back to him now, a shy but unmistakable smile tugging at her lips. “Okay… yes,” she finally said. “I’ll go on a date with you.” Tilting her head as she studied him, her dimples deepened as her grin curved wider. “But only if you let me buy at least the first round, considering how often you've saved me from the cafe's haunted appliances.”
Oh boy. She shouldn't've looked, but of course she did. Was the man a literal greek god carved from the earth? Who on earth allowed him to have a body like that? She was ogling, she knew she was, and yet she couldn't help herself. Be cool, Ley!! What the hell is wrong with you? Quickly looking away, the brunette gathered up what was left of her pastries in a bag, and the book she'd suddenly forgotten all about, and somehow her hand found his. Like, she hadn't even willed it to, it just came naturally, and yet.. the simple touch sent a flutter through her chest. She rose to stand beside Beck, a sudden wave of shyness hitting her after a few moments as she realised her hand was still curled in his, unable to meet his gaze. "Alright, Foster. Lead the way."
"It comes to a point where it's easier, isn't it?" Once the routine was down and the loneliness was a norm, it felt almost simpler to go about life alone than trying to fit someone into the day to day. At least that's how it felt for herself. She'd had people she'd been involved with on a sexual level but nothing serious enough to include them into her routine or home. "There's a lot of attractive groomsmen or even bridesmaids. I'd avoid most groomsmen at weddings if you're interested in dating because they're all pretty bad. They're fun for a one night thing." At least that was her experience, but otherwise, they were always the first to get drunk and makeout with someone they shouldn't. "The event planning thing isn't horrible. It's slowing down now some before it rams up again in the fall. People love their fall weddings but that means my stress is at an all time high because the weather rarely coorporates. Winter will be quiet until the holidays and then companies will want to do some Christmas parties." Then she shifted, peering at her feet momentarily. "My parents are okay for the most part. My mom is in this trial but it's been rough and she's been feeling ill most days. My dad is like a zombie. I don't think he knows what to do." She paused, grimacing. "Sorry— speaking of it always brings down the mood."
"So I've heard," she mused, knowing way too much from customers at the cafe and their hot goss from their weekends. "Well, if I'm ever thinking of hosting an event at the cafe, you'll be my first call." And that already had her thinking about possible events she could host in the winter, something to support Elsie whilst simultaneously creating traction for the cafe/book store. "Oh, that sounds so rough. I'm sorry to hear that. It's never easy watching your parents go through stuff like that." Especially when there was nothing you could do to fix it. "Don't apologise.. please. This is a very real thing you're going through and I'm here if you ever want or need to chat or vent. Or if you just need a complete distraction from everything—I’m really good at helping people forget the painful stuff, and avoiding my own problems."
He chuckled at her comparison. "That it is. The real question is will they ever actually get a turn?" Shaking his head, he let out a sigh as he thought about all of the different elements that had to play a bigger role in his decision making process than his actual feelings.
As she spoke, he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans, head down as he listened to her. "Thanks, Ley." he said quietly. "Sometimes, it feels like poor Eli just got stuck with me." Going into this, he knew she'd be supportive, that was just the kind of loyalty Leyla was known for, but it still helped more than he could say to hear someone else say they thought he was a good dad. He'd found himself questioning that very thought more often than he'd like to admit lately.
"She's told me bits and pieces. At the Spring Fling, she told me to name a time and place and she'd tell me what I wanted to know... But I don't know if I'm ready to hear her out yet," he admitted. "Because," he paused, Shane was terrible at admitting he didn't know what to do, so it took him a moment to work up to it. When he spoke, his voice was raw, the man who always had a plan, who immediately flew into action whenever there was a problem, didn't have a clue what to do about all this. "Because then I have to figure out what the hell to do and I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."
Leyla's lips curved into a soft smile, the laugh that escaped her a knowing one. "That's the million dollar question every parent wonders, isn't it?" Her gaze softened as he went on, but she shook her head firmly at his self doubt. "Nope, don't you dare! Eli didn't get stuck with you. He got lucky. You know I'd tell you straight if I thought otherwise." She was strong on the opinion that Shane was a good dad, and she refused to let him think otherwise. Whilst he explained about the Spring Fling, she fell quiet, listening intently. At his admission, her heart tugged in her chest. She couldn't imagine the gravity of the situation he was in. How hard it was, both for himself as a father and.. as someone who loved Sonny so deeply. She knew what it felt like to do this all alone, she knew how hard it was, despite the village they both leant on.
"Well, you don't have to decide anything right away. I mean, this has got to be the one of the toughest things to face, and I can only imagine how it feels. Just know that whenever you are ready, I'm a firm believer in information is key. As difficult as it is to face Sonny, I think knowing her perspective will really help you." Truthfully, she couldn't help but feel for Sonny in a way.. maybe she made a huge mistake and she was trying to make up for it? Leyla wanted to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. But she also knew, as a single parent, how difficult this would be for Shane. She felt for him, too. She hesitated, then added with a faint, lopsided smile, “You’ve carried Eli this far, figured it out every single day, even when you didn’t feel ready. You’ll figure this out too.”
Beck leans his head back against the bench, eyes closing for a brief second as if her words had hit somewhere between amusement and surrender. When he looks at her again, it’s with that same, quiet intensity he always carries when he’s thinking too much about something and trying not to show it. But the smile is still there—crooked, half-formed, like he doesn’t want her to see all of it just yet.
“Yeah, my things,” he confirms to her, voice dipping like the thought’s been marinating for longer than he cares to admit. “Call it territorial. Or just honest.” His gaze lingers on her for a second, something unspoken passing between them before he leans forward to brush the last few flakes of pastry off his jeans. “Either way, I meant what I said.”
Then, when she gives him that little slice of her own honesty, he glances over again, sharp enough to catch it, soft enough not to call her out on it—at least not directly. The corners of his mouth twitch like he’s trying not to smile too much, but he doesn’t look away. “Well,” he says quietly, “guess we’re both seeing something worth looking at then.” He doesn’t press the moment further. Doesn’t need to. It hums between them like something already understood, not yet spoken aloud.
But when she shifts the subject to the dishwasher, he lets out a groan that’s half exaggerated and half real, dragging a hand through his hair like she’s just assigned him a ten-hour shift. “You know, there was a time when I thought my Saturday might involve a cold beer and absolutely no kitchen appliances. But here you are,” he says, flicking a crumb off her sleeve with a casualness that almost covers the fondness underneath.
He sighs theatrically. “Alright. I’ll come take a look. But if that thing starts spewing foam again, I’m out. No heroic plumber moment. No white knight in an apron.” Afterwards he pauses, tilting his chin just slightly as he looks at her. “You don’t have to make it worth my while though, Ley. I’ll show up because you asked. And because, I wouldn't want you to get soaked.” Not in that way, at least. “By the suds, I mean. But I won’t turn down a drink after hours. That is, if the payment means you'll join me for one.”
To say that she was captivated by the very sight of him right now would barely scratch the surface. The afternoon sun seemed to linger on his ocean blue eyes, tracing the angles and curves of his face like it was painting a masterpiece, just for her. She almost forgot what they were even talking about, a warm pink colouring her cheeks as she realised she’d been staring, immediately looking away and clearing her throat. “Well, at least you’re a man who knows what he wants,” she murmured, lips twisting into a playful pout as her gaze drifted from the ocean back to him. “I might just hold you to that.”
Leyla’s chest gave a little flutter, and she couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at her lips. “Guess we are,” she murmured, her eyes locking on his. Laughter soon fell from her lips, however, once he started speaking about the dishwasher, her eyes genuinely alight with humour and amusement. "You make it sound way too dramatic, you know that?”
She shifted a bit to face him now, resting her elbow on the back of the chair and her chin in her hand, eyes locked on his. "I'm sorry, okay? I swear there's a ghost in that cafe wreaking havoc just so you have an excuse to come and rescue me." She couldn’t help but feel a rush of appreciation, however, for how genuinely kind Beck was, how willing he was to help… just because. I'll show up just because you asked. The words rang in her ears, sending a warm flutter through her stomach. “Not that I mind,” she added with a small smile. In all seriousness, though, she needed to figure out a way to pay him for his time. "Thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know."
Her cheeks warmed slightly, however, at his final statement, suddenly feeling a burst of boldness as she dared to ask, and basically blurted out, "—Are you asking me on a date, Beckett Foster?" But no sooner had the words left her lips than doubt crept in, and she quickly added with a sheepish laugh, "Or am I just letting my imagination run wild again? 'Cause I tend to do that. Of course I will. But only if I'm buying."
Benny turned and felt the tension in his shoulders ease at the sound of Leyla's hurried footsteps. He noticed her trying not to break into a smile as she approached, clearly amused by the sight before her. He shook his head but managed to return her smile, adding a pleading look as she came to his rescue. The scent of her perfume briefly caught his attention while she helped him with the lid of the bin.
His eyes flickered toward their hands as they briefly touched—a habit Benny had struggled to hide ever since they started working together. He managed to try to cover it by overdoing it with the blinking and looking elsewhere, but he wasn't always so lucky. "Thanks," he breathed in relief, turning to face her after pushing the bin a bit further back.
He turns at the sound of her brushing flour off her arm. He clears his throat, trying to brush off his momentary embarrassment. "Yeah, well, I definitely regret putting it up there now," he rubs the back of his neck, flashing his teeth at her, knowing she was dying to say that she told him so.
Benny used to play pranks on Leyla by placing items she couldn't reach on shelves. One of the pranks he pulled was putting the flour bin so high that he nearly forgot about it. Leyla had warned him that he would regret it later, and now, considering he was the only one who could reach the bin, he was also the only one responsible for retrieving flour from it. It was truly a double-edged sword, as some might say. "It was funnier back then."
For a brief moment, Benny thinks he should try to do it now while Leyla is still there to help him. However, he freezes when he sees the freezer door closed behind her. He leans out to look past her, his brow furrowed and panic beginning to churn in his stomach. He flashes an alarmed look at Leyla before moving towards the door, shaking the good-for-nothing handle vigorously. He pauses, heaving a deep breath before he turns to face her. "We're locked in."
Leyla caught the flicker in his expression at the brief brush of their hands, a faint heat creeping up her neck before she quickly looked away, pretending to fuss with her sleeve. Her lips twitched in response to his admission, a laugh threatening to break free. "Oh, I was absolutely dying to say I told you so," she remarked, brushing flour from her arm and letting her eyes linger on the fine white layer clinging to his shirt before meeting his gaze again.. "But I'll let you off the hook. This time."
She was about to nudge him again when she noticed the way his focus shifted past her, and her expression shifted instantly. "What?" she asked, stepping aside as he moved around her as realisation struck — the door had closed behind her. She must have knocked whatever was holding it open on her way in. Turning to follow his line of sight, just in time to see him grip the freezer door handle and yank at it unsuccessfully, her stomach sank. "Oh no." The chill was already biting at her fingers.
Leyla rubbed her hands together, the chill creeping through her sweater doing little to help her focus. Her mind raced through every possible way out as she motioned around him to try and pull the handle herself. Not that she didn't trust him, of course she did. But surely... shit. She patted at her pockets. Empty. Great. Swallowing, Leyla tried not to let the rising panic show as she turned to face Benny, lifting her gaze up to meet his own. She forced a steady calm into her expression as hope flickered in her eyes. "Please tell me you have your phone on you.."
"That's been about half a year." Not that she was one to judge because she'd been on her own for longer than that and had been celibate for longer periods. Luckily, she'd recently found a little app that allowed her to scratch that itch but it hadn't been frequent enough to flaunt anything. "You do have a point and I haven't thought about it with the pringles." She paused while she floated, then peaked back at her when she decided that she would be a wingwoman. "By the sound of it, you need one as well." Hopefully she was better at getting other people their person than she was at getting their own. "I can lend a little help, even if it's just finding a friend. I'm an event planner so I know a lot of people"
Leyla's brows lifted, a playful glint sparking in her eyes. "Half a year does sound kind of tragic when you put it like that," she chuckled, putting her head in her hands momentarily. Truly, Leyla had been so happy on her own for so long, so focused on her daughter and her business that she hadn't had time to think about much else. New Years was the closest she'd got, and yet, her inner fears had gotten the best of her. "Oh yeah.. being an event planner, you've basically got VIP access to the dating scene. Guess I know who to come to for help if I need it," she winked, amusement colouring her features. Though the last thing she was thinking about was going on a date right now. "How's the event planning side of things going in Briar Ridge? And how are your parents?"
Beck lets out a low laugh—deep and warm, the kind that rumbles more in the chest than in the throat. He leans into the nudge from her knee, not enough to push back, but just enough to acknowledge it. His smile lingers as he tears off another piece of the pastry, chewing like he’s trying not to grin with his mouth full.
“Jealous?” he repeats, glancing sideways at her with that look—the one that toes the line between trouble and truth. “Nah. I just know a good thing when I see it. And I don’t really like sharing my good things with strangers in board shorts who can’t spell ‘cappuccino’ without crying.”
He lifts his brows as he says it, feigning innocence, then shrugs one shoulder like the thought barely registers. But it does. She can see it in the way his knee still leans against hers, in the way his fingers tap absently against the bench—restless, but grounded.
“I do like the view, though,” he adds, more quietly this time. Not teasing. Not performative. Just honest. His voice dips a little, softer, like he’s not trying to make it a moment, but can’t quite help it from being one. “Always have.”
Then, almost immediately—as if the weight of that line unsettles him—he clears his throat and shifts back into familiar territory, leaning an elbow on the backrest and tilting his head toward her like he’s bracing for chaos. “Alright, hit me. What disaster unfolded at the café this time? Was it the espresso machine again? Or did someone let your cousin near the register?”
He bites into the last of his pastry and mumbles through a smile, “Please tell me it involved fire. Or goats. I could really use a good goat story right about now.”
Leyla laughed softly, a warm pink tint colouring her cheeks as she tilted her head toward Beck. "Your things, huh?" She shook her head as another chuckle ensued. "Board shorts and cappuccino spelling? That's a low blow, even for you." She nudged him back with her knee, noticing with a small smile how his knee was still pressed against hers like it didn’t want to let go, eyes sparkling with mischief as she let them settle on the water before them. And what a magical thing it was. Always healing.
She was mid taking a bite of her pastry, and savouring the taste, when his unexpected honesty caught her completely off guard. Beck admitting he liked the view, honest and unfiltered, ignited a flutter inside of her she wasn't quite ready to name. Always have. And just like that, her insides did a little somersault. She found herself speechless as she peered over at him, slowly chewing the rest of her bite, wondering if it was all just in her imagination. Was he talking about her? And why did he seem so vulnerable in doing so? Her lips parted, words seemingly failing her, and so she settled on, “Funny—I thought I was the only one appreciating the scenery around here.” A little slice of her own honesty, if you will.
Leyla straightened up now, glancing away in the hopes the breeze might be cool enough to hide the flush creeping up her cheeks. "Um, no.. no goat this time, unfortunately. Though I'll keep it in mind for next time," she winked at him. "Actually, its the dishwasher that gave up on me. Total breakdown. So unless you want to see me drowning in suds, I could really use someone who knows their way around a busted machine." She gave him a teasing look, her warm browns glimmering with amusement as she glanced at him sideways, biting her lip playfully. "Think you could tinker with it? There’s no rush, of course, but…” Her gaze held his a beat longer before she added with a teasing smile, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
A warmth bloomed in Genesis’s chest at the sound of Leyla’s words. For months, she’d kept herself at arm’s length as she grieved the loss of her marriage, and the possibility that Cameron was dating again. In that process, she'd let space grow between them, space she regretted now more than ever. Leyla had always been the kind of friend who showed up, the kind of friend who would have listened if she had only been honest with her and herself about how she was feeling. “Thank you,” Gen answered softly, glancing over at her friend with a look that held more meaning than the words alone. “I mean it. I'm sorry I've been such an awful friend lately.”
Before she could process the rest of the woman's words, her face lit up with surprise. “Wait—writing? Leyla, that’s amazing.” Her smile widened. “You absolutely should. I’ve actually been carving out more time for my art too. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” She tucked a damp curl behind her ear, eyes bright with sincerity as the opposite hand combed through the waves. “You have a gift, and I think you owe it to yourself to give this part of your life some space again. It sounds like we both need to take some inspiration from Billie and follow our dreams."
"No, you haven't," Leyla insisted, swimming a little closer to Gen now, her brows pulled together as she thought of the right words to say. "I've been the awful friend. I've.. wanted to say this for the longest time, but I didn't know how." She drops her gaze momentarily. "Or maybe I was too afraid to, I don't know.." She heaves a weighted sigh, lifting her gaze now to meet hers, completely vulnerable. "What happened with Cameron. I just—I didn't know what to do. I never meant for it to happen that way, and.. had I known Cam was Cam, I never would've entertained anything. At least, not in the way it happened." She searched Gen's eyes, an apologetic look colouring her features. "I'm sorry, Gen."
Leyla's smle softened, her eyes warming with hope and quiet determination. She couldn't believe she'd even confessed that to Gen, let alone to herself. It was like it was her first time hearing it.. and maybe it was. Was she healing? "Thanks Gen, that means a lot. More than I can say." She let out a slow breath, her fingers tracing gentle circles in the water. "It's scary, you know? Putting yourself out there after such a long time.. but maybe that's exactly why I need to." Maybe Gen was right.. maybe they needed to stop waiting for the right moment and just.. start. "She definitely has the right idea. What do you think you're going to get up to now?"
"Actually, I have been known to let gorgeous strangers walk all over me. It's always been a bit of a weakness of mine," he retorted with ease, his eyes following her retreating form with a gaze that was verging into inappropriate territory. Jordan was often too quick to speak or to act, and... now was certainly not going to be the exception to the rule. All but ditching his board in the sand, he broke out into a slight jog to catch up with the woman who'd, as she put it, talked shit to his face.
"So, usually this is the part of my fantasies where you tell me your name," he said once he'd finally caught up, waves already lapping at up his torso once more. He hadn't even needed to give himself a moment to adjust to the change in temperature, given how recently he was just in the water. Instead, he was far more focused on the dark-haired woman before him.
This kind of weather, this kind of sunshine, was nothing if not a prompt — like the day itself was daring her to be bold, to chase a little trouble. She slowed just enough for Jordan to catch up, water swirling around her calves as she turned to face him with a teasing smile. "You really shouldn't tell me things like that," she replied. Her eyes didn't shy from his. "Now I'm tempted to test the theory." Her fingers skimmed across the surface of the water as she drifted closer.. not too close, but enough for him to feel the pull of her presence. She let her eyes fall over his features — he was damn pretty, that was for sure. "Oh fantasies already? That was fast." Her smile curved a little more, pushing her hair back as she decided whether she should tell him her actual name or play into the fun of being strangers. But then, Briar Ridge was a small town and she was sure, even if he didn't seem too familiar, he'd eventually find out her name. Maybe he caught her in a generous mood. "Leyla." And then she leaned in like she might tell him something else, like a secret.. only to flash a grin instead. “You’ll have to work harder for the rest. —What should I call you?”
Benny chewed on the inside of his lip and let out a deep sigh as he squatted down, pen in hand, noting inventory in their walk-in freezer. The door was slightly ajar, a result of his stubbornness about fixing the door handle, which he had been neglecting in favor of other tasks. He knew that by the time he had to do inventory like this, it would be a hassle, so he accepted the inconvenience and focused on his work. There was no point in huffing and puffing. He would take the loss and get things done quickly.
Music from his phone played softly on the wooden work table just outside the door, the muffled sounds of Billy Joel accompanying Benny's late-night work. He assumed Leyla was somewhere in the store, either tending to the front or sorting through the books. Benny hummed contentedly, unconcerned by the cold, as he moved to his left to begin jotting down the frozen dough that had been set aside for a large order for a party in a few days.
Just as he attempted to climb higher for a better view of the middle rack, Benny's footing unexpectedly slipped. Catching himself on the frame, the sudden jolt shook the entire rack, causing a large bin filled to the brim with white flour to begin tipping from the top. “Oh shit—” In a desperate bid to prevent disaster, Benny raised his arms instinctively, abandoning his clipboard as it hit the ground with a loud clatter. The lid, precariously balanced, tilted dangerously, and flour threatened to cascade out like an avalanche. “Ley!” he shouted, urgency ringing in his voice. The last thing he wanted was to waste precious flour. “Leyla!”
Leyla startled at the sound of her name, the urgency in Benny's voice slicing clean through the soft hum of music and the quiet rustle of pages. She'd been sitting on the floor in the back corner of the store, halfway through re-categorising the romantasy shelf, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. Benny never shouted — not unless something was genuinely on fire or about to be. She sprang up and jogged toward the sound of his voice within an insant, the cold air hitting her face before she even stepped inside. "What's u—" she started, before her eyes landed on him, arms raised like he was bracing for impact, white dust already blooming in the air like a warning. She didn't laugh—yet. Instead, she lunged forward, grabbing the edge of the bin just as it tilted, helping him steady it back onto the rack. Her fingers brushed his, cold from the freezer air.
Once the bin was safely back in place, Leyla let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Her eyes flicked down to the thin layer of flour dusting Benny’s shirt and chest, her mouth tugging into something of a smile. She pulled her hand back, swiping some flour from her arm, then gave a quick glance around the freezer. The cold crept under her sleeves, prompting a small shiver. “Are you okay?" she asked, eyes scanning him in a once over—checking for bruises or injuries. Behind them, a soft click echoed, muffled by the thick insulation of the freezer walls. Leyla barely registered the sound, her focus still on Benny as she waited for his answer, unaware that anything had changed.
Elena huffed a quiet laugh. “Give it ten more minutes and I’ll probably join you. Matching chaos tattoos. Very us.” But when Leyla said safe space, something in her softened. She held her gaze, steady, the words landing somewhere deep. “Careful,” she said, quieter now. “Tell me that and I might actually fall apart.” It wasn’t a warning—just the truth, laid bare between waves and familiar silence.
Leyla’s nudge drew a small smile from her, and Elena let the water carry her a little closer, brushing past her shoulder as she moved. “Messy looks good on both of us,” she murmured, voice warm. “And I’m glad I could return the favor.” She lingered a beat longer, then tilted her head, playful again. “So? We swimming more, or am I dragging you to a tattoo shop before you come to your senses?”
Leyla caught Elena's playful challenge with a grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't they say sometimes things need to fall apart in order to be put back together? Or something like that." She slipped beneath the surface, the cool rush of water enveloping her for a moment before she emerged again, slick hair clinging to her skin. With a quick sweep of her hand, she pushed it back from her face, blinking the salt from her lashes as her gaze found Elena—tracing the lines of her face with quiet curiousity. "Oh, you're going all in, huh?" She cast her a teasing glance over her shoulder, realising that she was in playful and chaotic enough a mood that she just might be impulsive enough to literally go and get a tattoo. "Sounds like we're making some unforgettable memories today. What would we get if we did?"
Genesis let out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as the water cooled her skin. “Honestly? It’s been chaos,” she admitted, wading in closer until the water hugged her hips. “Apartment hunting nearly broke me. Juliana and I toured like eight places before finding one that checked most of our boxes. The move was a disaster too. Our movers were late, I somehow lost every single one of our forks, and Juliana had a meltdown because I lost track of her nightlight somewhere between the boxes.” A soft smile tugged at her lips, though her voice was edged with fatigue.
Gently, Genesis combed the wet ringlets away from her face, eyes squinting against the sunlight as she gazed over at Leyla. “Other than that, it’s been all the usual mom stuff and admittedly, a few personal roadblocks I didn't expect to pop up. I’ve been trying to remain calm and collected for Juliana’s sake, but it’s definitely felt like I’m treading water just to stay afloat.” Between the move, typical family chaos and everything that had happened between her and Alex, Genesis had been feeling rather overwhelmed and unprepared. Sure, this was what she had always wanted. But it had all come at a cost. “I’m tired, but I’m getting there. How about you? Has Billie been keeping you busy?”
Leyla listened, her expression softening as Genesis spoke. The flicker of humour faded, replaced by something a little quieter, a little softer. "God, Gen," she said gently, nudging her shoulder with a light bump as a sympathetic expression coloured her features. "That sounds like a hell of a month. I would've lost it at the forks alone, let alone the nightlight situation. I'm sorry it's been so much all at once." She glanced down, brushing her hand across the water's surface, knowing everything Gen would be sacrificing as a mom. "It's hard when you're supposed to be the calm one, the strong one.. for them. —Did everything turn out okay?" Leyla looked at Genesis again, her gaze steady. “I just want to say, you don’t have to hold it all by yourself. If you ever need help or anything, I just hope you know I'm here."
"Billie's definitely been keeping me busy," she added with a small smile. "She's deep into her 'why' phase, which is fun until she asks why the moon doesn't fall out of the sky at bedtime. And she's got this new obsession with becoing a magician-slash-popstar, so there's been a lot of glitter. Everywhere." Amusement coloured her features again as a grin tugged at her lips, thinking of her daughter. "And.. you're the first one I'm.. actually admitting this to, but, I've been thinking about writing again."
"Something like that." Elsie said with a laugh, already walking in despite having sent Leyla in first. It was cold, she was right, but she wasn't so sure about the whole getting used to it at first. "It's actually frigid." She peered down at her toes before venturing further and then settling in at waist level. It had warmed up some, or maybe she'd officially lost some circulation to her lower extremities. "It's a shame because I haven't made out with someone in months, it feels like." She was teasing— in no way stupid enough to fake an urgency just to get their attention. After a deep breath, Elsie nodded her head and waited to count to ten in her head before she dove in. The bandaid needed to be pulled off quick and fast or she'd second guess. "It's not bad— but if the sun stays behind a cloud too long I don't know that I'll be able to stay in." It was bearable now that it was nice and sunny. "So, are you single or am I going to have to go speak to the lifeguards alone once we get out?"
"You're telling me. It's like the sahara desert in my life.. well, since New Years anyway." Leyla burst out laughing, bright and unfiltered as she grinned over at Elsie. "Single as a pringle, my friend," she confirmed, wiping the water from her face. "Though, if we're being technical, that expression makes zero sense. Pringles literally come stacked in a tube with a bunch of other pringles. It's kind of a scam." She floated backward a little, arms outstretched, letting the saltwater carry her as her legs treaded lazily beneath her. The sun hit her face just right, and for a moment, she just tilted her head back and soaked it all in—the water, the light, the easy company. It felt like exhaling. "But yeah," she added, glancing back over at Elsie with a smirk. "So if you need a wingwoman, you should know you've got one in me. I fully support hot lifeguard summer."
