Saturday, 17 November 2012

You've Got Male Models: The Start Pt.1

The key I've kept close since it arrived in the mail a couple weeks ago, fits into the crevasses of my palms without pinching. I slowly exhale a breath I've been holding all afternoon and push the straight fringe of my dark hair out of my eyes. 

The chime of the elevator interrupts my train of thought and I slide into the empty wooden box. My eyes sweep over the column of of numbered buttons and I press the button for the top floor. The doors start to slide close with another short chime and I retreat back to my afternoon.

I recall the dramatics of my mother as she clung to me, persuading me to not leave her. I can only shake my head at the memory and frown. She only thinks of herself and how she can't flaunt me anymore to her friends and the media.

I'm twenty years old. She can find other ways to fuel her fame without me being right beside her.

I squeeze the key in my hand reassuringly and abruptly freeze. In the narrowing space of the sliding doors, a dark blue suitcase has managed to lodge itself between the two wooden doors. Pausing, I measure the air between the wheels, still spinning from being launched, and the tip of my nose. 

"Hey, sorry about that."

The doors retreat away from the obstruction and the suitcase drops to the rugged floor of the lobby in front of me. "I hope that didn't freak you out-"

"You, the man, Jonesy! Awesome timing!"

A blonde punches his friend playfully in the arm as his friend, this "Jonesy", runs a hand through his brown hair and eyes me with a cold stare. The blonde stops his hassling to shoot an excited smile at me. "Going up?"

"Jonesy" picks up his suitcase and shoulders his friend out of his way as he sidles to stand beside me. The blonde hustles in, stabbing the same button I had pressed. 

Anyways, back to this afternoon, the first class air flight hadn't been a problem, although the media swarming me before my flight was a hindrance. They were probably alerted from mother's complaints-

"The name's Tristan," the blonde on my right introduces, effectively ruining my plan to ignore them, an expectant smile beams. "And you're pretty." Immediately a hand shoots into my own and my key drops to the floor of the elevator as he pumps my hand into an exuberant handshake. His green eyes sparkle as he chatters about the coincidence of being on the same floor and he bends to pick up my key. 

"Hey," he says, showering me in a bright smile. His smile annoys me slightly, and I attempt to remember what I was told about people and their reasons for having to display fake smiles. "We have the same key!"

"Stop flirting, idiot," the deep voice patronizes, however, his head of brown hair hovers over my shoulder for a closer inspection. He passes a key to Tristan who compares the two keys by aligning them against each other. 

There's a pause as we watch the key teeth align perfectly together, but just when something should be said, the doors chime open to our floor. 

Quickly analyzing the situation with very few explanations for why the teeth would perfectly align, I grab my key from their hands and hoist my travel bag strap over my shoulder and stride down the hall. 

There are only three apartments on this floor and finding apartment 3223 isn't difficult. The landlord must be frugal, I conclude from my list of explanations, finding this one to be the only one I would believe. She doesn't want to spend money on different locks for all the apartments in this building. I take note to immediately buy a new lock and install it before reprimanding the landlord for taking shortcuts. 

I anxiously shove the key into the keyhole, grateful for the catch of the lock as the door unlocks. I'm turning the knob when I hear their deep voices travelling from  down the hall.


To be continued.

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