Windows on the World (OLD VERSION) [BEING REWRITTEN]

[¹¹] ʳᵃⁱⁿ

"That was probably the dumbest movie I've ever watched," Walter said as they walked out.

It was a Friday afternoon in July, and they'd both just gotten out of the theater. The sun was still up, something that Phoebe wasn't used to whenever she went to the movies. She preferred night sessions, but Walter wanted to get an early showing, and she caved only so he wouldn't leave her hanging. It was already enough he had agreed to watch it with her.

What he didn't get was why she had chosen to go with her boss instead of with her friends.

"Well, I liked it, Mr. Intellectual."

"Of course you did," he teased. "The song at the end was all right."

Her mouth swung wide open.

"You just admitted to liking hip-hop! Mind you, it was low-key. But, still!" Overjoyed that the stuck-up Walter could actually enjoy music of that style, the corners of Phoebe's mouth were firmly set upward. "Here come the Men in Black. Galaxy defenders! Here come the Men in Black. They won't let you remember!"

"Will Smith would probably slap you if he could hear you butchering the song like that."

"Excuse me? I'm a good singer." She wasn't. But Walter didn't really mind her off-key voice.

Only about five minutes after they'd set foot on the street, dark spots started to cover the sidewalk.

Walter stretched his hand out, looking up at the grey skies.

"It's raining."

"I can see that," she responded condescendingly.

Phoebe was not yet very familiar with summers in New York, but she did know that there were the occasional showers. This certainly felt like one when the rain fell even stronger, beginning to soak their clothing.

"Agh! My hair..." Her precious blow-dry that always took her the whole morning to perfect was being watered down.

Phoebe intended to call for a cab, but Walter stopped her, telling her not to bother with a motion of his head.

"This is my street," he stated.

Fancy buildings on a shiny clean street? Yeah, it checked out.

They made a run for it, almost bumping elbows with the people who thought ahead and therefore had an umbrella to shield them from the unforgiving drops.

Walter came to a drastic stop in front of a gray/white stone building, much like the ones in Wall Street. This one was almost as tall as the Woolworth building, and quite similar in structure. It pleased Phoebe that it was an old building with character. Not a soulless megastructure with apartments yet to be filled.

There were only two pieces of modern architecture in the whole city that she had learned to appreciate, and largely because she was biased.

He used his key, letting Phoebe in first by holding the door. The girl hurried inside. Unfortunately, the proximity of Walter's apartment did nothing for their clothes and hair. They looked like they'd just emerged from a swamp.

Phoebe began laughing at the man's expense. That flattened hair made him appear like a completely different person. When she stopped to think about it, she decided that he closely resembled a wet golden retriever.

Walter's eyes rolled upward, pretending the girl's mockery affected him, but the shape of his mouth indicated otherwise. She did not realize she was just as risible.

The doorman was apparently just getting back from somewhere else in the building.

"Thanks for opening the door, Oliver," Walter told him sarcastically, but with a friendly tone.