This Is Inevitable | #ONC2022

Chapter 2 | This Is Rock Bottom

The day bleeds by. I slug through admin work for Amir for hours, my only reprieve being Ayisha's welcome interruptions for coffee breaks. As soon as the clock ticks five thirty pm, I'm packed up and out of there. At least I can now read the manuscripts from the comfort of my own lounge instead of the sterile arrangement of the office. 

I field my way through my apartment building's decrepit lobby, avoiding a loose tile on the floor and a dying cockroach. It looks like someone's half stepped on it, the poor thing strambling to get away from me as it's innards trail behind it.

Putting it out of it's misery, I force the heel of my shoe down on it. Folks, this is what low-income jobs get you. It barely gets better than this. At least I haven't walked into a cobweb yet; the chance is always low but never zero. I've done it before; the dust blinds you and the spider makes you want to rip your skin off as it crawls. Not a great combination.  

The receptionist is too busy watching telenovellas to notice me coming through; whatever, it works for me. I already had my fill of awkward small talk this morning when I saw her on my way to work. Oh, Kian, your shirt looks lovely today! Thanks, I've worn it for several weeks straight and you've said it every time you see me. Oh, Kian, I hope you have a fan-tabulous day today! Thanks, you walking greeting card. Remind me to come to you when I need to greet to a distant relative.

Yikes. Why am I so bitter?

As I swing the door of my apartment open, I'm greeted with a cold gust of air. No windows are open; I'm glad to see that the insulation is working well. 

I move my leather sidebag onto my kitchen countertop and plonk myself onto a barstool, the rickety nature of it distracting me from my thoughts about the day. As I absentmindedly rock myself on the uneven chair, the thoughts of work, Amir, pressure, and Tate melt away. The only thing that snaps me back to reality is my cat, Hazel, who jumps up onto the counter to give my arm a nudge with her head. She purrs as I pet her back. 

Within moments, she's over the affection and tries to bite me. As I pull away, she shoots me a disgusted look before darting off, retreating to her hideaway down the hall into my bedroom. Little bitch. One day, I'll bite her back, and that'll teach her not to fuck around with me. Also, how dare she with that look? The expression was much like Tate's earlier today. Great. Now Tate is back in my head. Stupid sexy Tate.

I sink my head onto the fake marble counter--it's wood with a marble patterened sticker on the top of it--and groan. My eyes catch the folders peeking out of my sidebag that's sitting infront of me. I glance at the clock; christ, already six fifteen. Need to be in bed soon.

Come on. Shower, dinner, then get to work, then bed. You cannot afford to slack off. 

I begrudgingly get up. As I walk to the bathroom, I peel off the layers of clothing trapped to me, leaving a trail of clothes behind me before stepping into the shower. The water's temperature is uneven--hot, lukewarm, cold, then finally a steady hot--but I still manage to clean myself. There are dregs of shampoo left; note to self, get more on the way back from work tomorrow. 

My eyes spy a long purple sillicon toy hiding behind the bottles. Hm. I should also put that away. Nah, I haven't had guests in ages. Putting it away would just make it more inconvenient when I need it. 

No, you don't need it now. You have things to do.

I get out of the shower. Hazel is waiting for me outside the door for some reason, her tail swishing from side to side as she watches me towel off. She spies my underwear on the floor; naturally, she gives it a sniff. Pervert. I snatch the clothing away from her. Go away, go do cat things like judging the passerbys or licking your asshole. This is not something you can sniff.