Affection | Jenlisa

Love in an Elevator

This box was going to be the death of Jennie, she just knew it. It wasn't the brightest idea she'd ever had to put so many heavy books into one, she should have made multiple trips, but she was nothing if not stubborn. One trip, that's what she told herself. One trip to be rid of the books she never even glanced at, and her mission of decluttering her apartment would be done - that was, if she could make it to the library without collapsing.

Unwilling to admit defeat, she slowly made her way from her apartment to the elevator, pausing every so often to lean the box against the wall, sweat dripping down her forehead and getting into her eyes. Why did she have so many heavy books in the first place? She could hear how labored her own breathing sounded, could feel the strain in her arms, and decided that she had to push through. These small breaks were only making it harder to keep going.

Hoisting the box higher in her arms, and shuffling her way slowly towards the elevator, she wasn't able to see directly in front of her. She hoped nothing would trip her up, listening carefully for any signs of neighbors, watching the ground as it appeared from underneath the box, cursing herself for thinking this was ever a good idea.

It caught her off guard when she heard a door slam, and a quick shuffling of feet, followed rapidly by the ding of the elevator somewhere up ahead.

Thank God, Jennie thought. Someone, one of her angelic, beautiful neighbors, was getting in ahead of her, which meant she wouldn't have to fumble for the button, wouldn't have to potentially drop this box in the attempt to get downstairs, and would only have to worry about walking straight ahead where she could safely rest this box against the elevator wall. She was going to make it.

"Hold the elevator," she shouted, the sound muffled a little by the cardboard in front of her face, but loud enough that surely this mystery savior would hear her. Except not a second later, the words barely out of Jennie's mouth, she started to hear the doors shutting, and she panicked. What if they had headphones in? What if it was poor Mrs. Jung, hard of hearing, and she didn't know Jennie was mere feet away, struggling to survive? She tried one more time, "Hold the elevator!"

Using all her strength, she shifted the enormous box slightly to her right, letting her look around it only barely, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was currently inside.

It wasn't Mrs. Jung. And it wasn't someone with headphones in. It was Hot Neighbor, the one Jennie had ogled from afar ever since she moved in a month ago, but hadn't yet had the opportunity to introduce herself to. And she didn't seem to be hard of hearing. In fact, right before the doors shut with a resounding click, she and Jennie made eye contact, her doe eyes wide in what looked like embarrassment, before quickly looking down to stare at the floor.

"Fucking bastard," Jennie whispered, disbelief coursing through her. Who would ignore someone's pleas to hold the elevator? Exhaustion and anger intermingled inside of her, and she lost her concentration, stepping out of the way just in time to avoid the box of books crashing down in front of her. The cardboard ripped on one side, the tape that was holding it together splitting, and books spilled out onto the hallway floor.

"Fucking shit, motherfucking," Jennie screamed, no longer caring who she disturbed, frustration making her see red.

It was official. Hot Neighbor was an asshole.

-

"Honestly Jen, I think you're overreacting a little," Jisoo said, taking a swig of her beer and leveling Jennie with a look of judgment.

Jennie rolled her eyes. She still wasn't over it, and she really didn't think she was overreacting.

"What kind of monster sees someone struggling with something heavy, and doesn't hold the fucking elevator? Decent people would have even offered to help, but this girl couldn't even make an effort to press a fucking button." Jennie had told and retold the story at least five times over the course of the evening, getting a little more heated each time, adding a little more embellishment to her struggle. "I almost died, Unnie."