Penthouse Passion [l.s]

two

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After going over the contract I just stare at it while thinking about very thing.

I turn to my cat who hops onto my lap, "Chip, what should we do? We don't have much of a choice, do we?" I know he can't actually understand me, but his presence comforts me. He purrs as I stroke his fluffy back. He still looks like a kitten even though he's more than a year old.

After awhile, I sign the contract even though I don't want to. This whole situation is unfair and stupid.

I change out of my vet clothes and into something more comfortable. I eat cereal for dinner, despite it being what I ate for breakfast too.

Later in the evening I decide to hand in the papers at the front desk. When I reach the lobby I see a tall figure at the desk about to walk away.

"Sorry about this, Sir," the lady says as he walks away unhappy. He had long hair and a black shirt on. He doesn't pay me a second glance and heads to the elevators.

I slowly walk up to the lady behind the marble countertop desk. She gives a gentle smile. I hand her the papers and she smiles in return at me.

"Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson. We are really sorry for this inconvenience," she says sounding genuine.

"It's fine," I try not to sound bitter. I try to turn away but hear, "I will send boxes up to your flat in a little while."

I turn around to face the receptionist, "Thanks," I say harshly with a fake smile. And maybe I'm being rude, but can you blame me? I'm just so frustrated that this is happening. Why me? It's always me.

I get back into my apartment and stare into space at the bricks. I can't believe I'm leaving all of this. I bought things for here. It's my home.

I don't have too many things in my flat, so I won't be needing many boxes. But I'm still not in the mood to pack all of my stuff. I like it here. It's cozy and warm, much like back at home. Well, how my house used to feel.

Now I'm going to be stressed all day tomorrow at work. I can't have this stress as a veterinarian.

I decide to take a shower to relax more tense muscles and try to calm down. I have no clue who this person is whom I'm about to be living with. This is insane.

I watch television to take my mind off things before having to actually face them.

*knock knock*

I groan out loud and roll my eyes at the door. I open it up to find a janitor or someone with a bundle of unfolded boxes wrapped up.

"Mr. Tomlinson?" He asks.

"That's me," I say while grabbing the boxes from his outreached hands, "Thanks," I say referring to the boxes.

"Put this tape on any of your furniture that you would like to keep with you. We will deal with it later."

"Alright, thanks."

He nods and I close the door.

So much for trying to take my mind off things. I guess I should start to pack some of my things up. I won't have time to during the day tomorrow and Thursday.

I start with the not-so-necessary items such as books, blankets, and pillows. I end up packing away most of the less useful items in my flat. But it's already 12 at night and I have to be up at 7:25 tomorrow. So I decide to try and sleep as best as I can before facing this mess again tomorrow.

The entire day I've been thinking about who this person, that I'll have to live with, is. The owner said he's only 3 years older than me. At least he's not some old guy. But still, what if he's homophobic. He can really hurt me. I'm pretty scrawny and small for my age. I've always had a more feminine look to me, which I never really minded. My height is kind of embarrassing, but oh well.

When I get back to my, soon to not be, flat I start packing more things like shoes, decoration, cleaning supplies, and pictures. I also put a strip of tape on my furniture. I decide that I'm going to put my plants on a cart and send them up on Saturday. I'm leaving my pets' food and beds/cage here for now but packing their toys and most their treats now.

I'm going to try to get most of my furniture up to the penthouse somehow, even though there's probably  already furniture up there.

I hear another knock on my door as I pack away my toiletries that aren't important right now.

I look through the peep hole and see the owner again. I open up the door and greet him with a small, not so sincere, smile and nod.

"Mr. Tomlinson! Hi, how are you?" He asks, probably trying to make me not so angry at him.

"Alright," I say plainly.

He looks at me for a second before dropping his gaze to his hands for a second before returning them to my face, "Whenever you're ready to start sending your stuff up to the penthouse just let us know. You can call the front office and she'll send someone up to bring your boxes upstairs."

I nod, "Will do, thanks." I look at the doorframe as I wait for him to say something.

"Thanks for being so cooperative with this whole thing. I appreciate it," he says, seeming genuine. 

"It's okay," I try to sound fine with it even though we both know I'm not.

He nods, "Have a nice night."

"You too."

I close the door and exhale through my mouth. I shake my head and continue packing my stuff.

Later at night I decide to call the front office and them I have boxes that are ready to go up. Soon I find the janitor, along with another man, standing at my door. I show them the boxes they can bring up.

While they're bringing the first couple boxes on the cart up to the penthouse, I put the rest of the boxes outside of my flat and decide to take a shower and eat a frozen dinner, instead of making an unwanted mess.

The next day goes much like the last one. Worry all day at work, pack up all my stuff during the evening.

I take a shower for the last time in the flat, and eat my final dinner here. The flat looks empty and eerie. It's so plain, and so not me.

My two cats can sense that something is up because they keep snuggling into my lap. They're probably scared. And then Cookie seems completely fine and doesn't give two damns about anything.

It's a very weird feeling I get as I sit in my bed for the last time. I'm about to be living with some random person in a penthouse. I just still can't wrap my head around the entire concept.

I guess we'll see how tomorrow goes.
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There's are short chapters, I know. But they will get longer in a bit.

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Published: 7/31/16