THE BAGGAGE EXCHANGE

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒

A few months ago, I would have laughed at the thought of moving into Los Angeles. The mere thought of it would have been absurd to me. And yet here I was about to catch the next plane going there. You see, last week, I received a job opportunity there. Since I've always wanted to have my script reviewed by a professional, I took it, of course not without weighing the pros and cons.

Looking around, my small apartment was all packed up. Everything was already in boxes and it looks barren. As if nobody lived in it for two years. I don't quite know when I'll be back here. God knows if I'll make it into Hollywood. So with one last look at my place, I may seem ready to go. Although I may have one slight problem.

I sighed in frustration. I have been strangling my printer just to get it to print the last few pages of the script I've been working on in the past weeks. I would have to take it with me because it would be my ticket to much greener pastures.

"Oh come on, just two more pages," I urged the beaten printer. The poor thing looks like it's going into retirement. It lasted me ten years and it feels like I'm witnessing it's last hurrah. Any minute now and it's going to combust in smoke. Thank you for your service, old friend.

Once it spat out the final pages in a wrinkled state (it was better than nothing) , I grabbed it and placed it in a small folder alongside the rest of the pages. As soon as it was securely in a safe place in my bag, I was out the door.

I still had two hours before my flight. And since it wasn't an international one, I could be there one hour before and still not miss it, fingers crossed. I still had to make one more stop before heading to the airport.

Walking around and taking in the familiar surroundings, I took in a deep breathe. I'm gonna miss this town. There were so many trees and shrubs and flowers. We are really just surrounded by a bundle of green. The buildings weren't tall at all, they were small and were sitting side by side each other. They ranged from the colors of oranges, greens, blues and even yellows.

There was even a park located in the center of all the hustle and bustle. Many people gather there with friends to simply chat or to go out for a quick jog. And beside it lie a strip of buildings, The Flaming Bean Joint being one of them.

The Flaming Bean Joint is basically the heart and soul of this little town. It's basically a restaurant, but with a wide range of coffee to offer, hence the name.

I pushed the little glass door open and the little bell above started jingling. As expected, a lot of people sat around the different tables, mingling amongst themselves.

Amid everyone was Isobel, my best friend. I watched as she carefully served everyone their orders and how she cheerfully greeted them. She was charismatic that way, very unlike me.

Isobel had blonde hair and had light skin and she always has a smile gracing her pink lips. She also had curves on just the right places. There was no denying her good looks. I even question how we're friends when I'm the exact opposite of her. I had brown hair and had pale skin and I didn't have the body that she had. I was taller than her since she has a petite stature.

When were high school, boys would line up at her door just to have a single date with her. She was really sociable to the point where she could easily carry a conversation with someone and when they'd part ways, they would already have their own inside jokes.

Isobel is also a hopeless romantic. She really likes those cheesy romance shows and thinks love is like how they really describe it in the books. And I couldn't relate even if I wanted to. I was cynical that way.

So we were obviously polar opposites.

Isobel is my first (and only) friend here. One thing about her is that she's not afraid to stand out. And it shows.