My apartment in LA could only be described as a pretty picture, but the scenery is so loud. It over looked the city but it was loud. One way to describe it at least.
The apartment was nice. Nicer than the one back home. Too nice if anything. It didnt feel like me. I should of bought my Frank Sinatra picture, that would of made this place feel more homely.
Deciding I needed to get out of here, i locked up the apartment and went on a walk to the nearest
Starbucks. Rather cliche if I dont say so myself but I could be bothered making myself a coffee and I was starved. So Starbucks it is.
There was a bit of a hold up when I walked into the closest one from my apartment. Making my way to the front of the small crowd to see what was happening, I noticed there was a dispute between one of the workers and a young lady.
"What's going on here?" I ask, stopping their relentless bickering.
"This young lady doesnt have enough money to pay for her drink, sir."
"Easily solved," I say, grabbing out my wallet. "How much is she short?"
And that's how I landed a kind of date with this young woman.
"Thank you so much sir, my payroll hasn't come in yet."
"No worries. I'm Brendon. Brendon Urie."
"Rebecca. Rebecca Jackson. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Urie."
Smiling, we shook each other's hand.
"What brings you in Las Vegas Mr. Urie? I haven't seen your face around here."
"Please, call me Brendon. I'm here for business."
"Interesting. Where do you work?"
I told her about working for the police department down in New Orleans and she told me how she works at different Walmarts, depending on where she was needed.
What intended on being a 10 minute outing to Starbucks ended up lasting a couple of hours. Rebecca was really easy to talk to, and quite charming.
A ding sounded from her phone, interrupting our conversation about different countries and which ones we've been to.
"It was work," she explained, grabbing her jacket off the back of her chair.
"Rather sorry to be off in a hurry, but its important, however, here is my phone number. Dont hesitate to call."
Turning to leave the store, she caught my eye and winked. Fuck.
Clearing up my mess, I headed off back to my apartment. For some reason she was stuck in my mind. Even as I was organizing the meetings to interrogate suspects, her presence kept creeping back.
I'll give her a text tomorrow, i guess.
444 words
Published 27th January 2019
YOU ARE READING
New Perspective
Fanfictionperspective: the appearance of things relative to one another as determined by their distance from the viewer Just a few things before we get started: this is a story in the perspective of a serial killer. There will be mentions of death, suicide, a...
