𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ↛ 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝

⟼ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ⟼ 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝

Moonlight trickled softly through half-drawn curtains, decorating clothes that were strewn across the floor. I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots ever-so gently. Stressed was not the word: I had been up since noon trying to pack my endless amounts of clothes into one measly suitcase. And apparently it wasn't going well.

A quaint song ricocheted through my room, silence being sliced by the sound. My eyes flicked from shirt to shirt, dress to skirt. Shoes lay untouched in the bottom of my wardrobe; heels, trainers and boots lined neatly behind one another. A groan escaped my throat as I realised I was nowhere near done despite the hours I had wasted trying to narrow everything down. Checking my phone I sighed as the time read 2:07am. I was beyond tired, my body ached and my eyes were sore. 

"Surely you're not still packing?" Marcus leant against the door-frame, crossing his arms over his chest. His face was plastered with a sly smirk, his eyes connecting with mine. I shuffled over to him, bending down to pick a stray pair of jeans before hurling them at the curtains in frustration. 

"I can't do this, I can't go. Ring Gareth and tell him I'm not coming anymore. I'm serious!" I pushed my phone into his face, the dial buttons already lighting the screen up. He laughed, taking my phone before tossing it onto the bed behind me. 

"Oh c'mon, just pack some stuff. It doesn't matter what you take, it's not as if we're going on a fashion show. It's literally just training in London." He walked past me, grabbing clothes from the floor and folding them neatly over his forearm. Placing them on the foot of my bed he turned to face me, his hands planted on his hips, "We have to leave at five, you do know that right?"

"Of course I do, I just need to finish packing and then grab some breakfast." I lied, faking a smile to hide the discomfort the lack of sleep had caused me to feel. Marcus nodded, not entirely buying my story but he wandered past me nonetheless.

"I'll start packing the taxi once it gets here, I'll knock your door on my way down. If you don't answer you'll be left with your own devices to lug that down the stairs." He giggled as I playfully pushed his chest backwards. Holding his hands up in defence he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in my room yet again. Taking his advice, I rummaged on the floor, collecting clothes in handfuls. Spreading them over my bed I gathered the clothes I wanted, folding them into my suitcase. 

Despite not exactly wanting to spend three weeks in London it was important to collect experience for work. As an amateur photographer I had been searching relentlessly for someone or somewhere to take me on for a couple weeks just so I could build my portfolio. After everywhere turning me down and everyone sending me away empty handed I resorted to begging Marcus to try and convince Gareth to let me come along with them for a training session. I promised I'd stay in the corner and wouldn't disturb anyone, which seemed to work for Gareth as he phoned me the next day offering me to come with them for the three weeks. He explained I just had to photograph and video training and sessions for the England website and social media's. I jumped at the chance, accepting it there and then. 

Zipping my suitcase up, I propped it against the wall in triumph. Finally I had packed. 

Plugging my charger into the socket, I popped my phone on charge, resting it on the bedside table. Clambering into bed I yanked the covers up to my chin, switching the lamp off so that my room was plummeted into darkness.