Room for Wentz

"For heaven's sake, Sammy, it's three in the bloody afternoon and the sun is melting my Pradas."

"Too bad," I mumbled without a hint of apology in my voice, "I didn't tell you to wear designer shoes to come room hunting with me."

I ignored his whines and brought my focus back onto the map in my hands. With the hot sun almost blinding my sight, the Californian breeze decided to join the bullying; with a strong blow the huge state of California smacked itself right onto my face, messing up my hair as it went.

"Fuck," I winced before roughly tearing the map away from my face.

"Oh, that must've hurt." Greg teased.

"Shut up, Greg, if you don't wanna help then just go home."

"Well excuse me, woman, but we've been searching for your damn house for the past two hours," He cleared his throat, "And til now you still haven't told me why you decided to move out."

I paused at his last sentence, right before quickly deciding that it was best I pretend not to hear him. "The map says that we're in the right area, we just need to look for house number eight."

"Sammy-" He nudged me while I squinted my eyes from the heat to look around at the houses.

"Damn it, where the hell is house number-"

"Sam," Greg snatched the map from my hands before grabbing me on both shoulders, "We're not going anywhere until you tell me everything."

I blinked, I knew I wouldn't be able to find the house in time unless I tell Greg the truth. And I know lying would just make things worse, Greg mentioned once that I was a terrible liar. But I wasn't in to mood to spill it out, either.

"Fine," I huffed, body almost giving up from the blazing heat. "I had enough of your boyfriend, okay?"

I tried to break free from his grip, but he held it even tighter. "Why? What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I just got sick of his complaints about me and how I'm the one affecting your relationship." I stopped myself from rolling my eyes, hoping that my shades prevented Greg from noticing. He always hated it when I roll my eyes.

Truth is, I never liked his boyfriend. Since the day Greg introduced Andrew to Trisha, my other best friend, and I, I knew we would never get along well. Things became worse when I found a job out of town, Greg suggested that I move into their apartment. Andrew didn't like it at all, he complained about every single thing that I did, but Greg stuck with me through it all. I don't even know how could someone stand a person like Andrew for so long. After two months at their apartment, I had enough and decided to find a place of my own.

"Oh Sammy, why didn't you tell me about this earlier? I could have-"

"Could've what, Greg? Tell him off and end up fighting because of me again?" I breathed, "What's the point? He hates me and you know it."

I stopped him before he managed to speak. "Forget it, Greg, I'm not going back. I love you and all, but I think it's best that I get my own place to stay."

He said nothing, both arms dropped to his sides. I knew he was upset, but I was determined not to see Andrew's face again, well at least for a month. Retrieving the map from his hand, I looked around before letting out a frustrated yell.

"Where the fuck is house number eight?!"

"Here." Greg replied quietly, I turned around to see him pointing to my right.

The smile on my face hadn't fade since I stepped into the spacious room. My hands gripping onto the handles of the balcony as I watched the evening city smile back at me. Soon the city lights began to illuminate, and the breeze blew in, urging the cream curtains by the sliding glass door to dance along as it cooled the room.

"Good news, love, the bathroom and view are yours if you take it." Greg called out, suddenly appearing at the door.

"Sorry about, you know," I bit my lip, "What happened earlier."

He chuckled, "Nonsense, you were feeling uneasy and just needed to let it all out."

"But, you weren't supposed to hear all that."

"Sweetheart, I'm not blind, you know." He looked at me, "It's obvious things between you two weren't going so well, and it sucked to see both of you upset."

"But I'm proud of you, Sammy." He smiled, "I'm glad you took things into your hands instead of just sitting around in my apartment feeling like shit all the time."

I laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek, "Glad you understand."

"So, what do you think, Miss Lee?"

A woman, around her fifties, stood by the doorway. Her eyes gleamed as she waited for my reply. With both hands together, her graying brown hair was neatly tied behind; a warm smile almost seemed to blend with her wrinkled face.

'Owner of the house is a woman. That's a plus.'

I took a deep breath from the balcony and closed my eyes, picturing myself having that room all by myself, relaxing after a tiring day from work, while enjoying the city view every night. I decided to agree with the voice in my head, turning around to face her at the sliding door, and smiled.

"I'll take it"

Her face lit up in delight. "That's wonderful dear."

After a moment discussing about the room rentals, the owner handed me a set of keys. "I hope you'll have a comfortable time staying here."

"I will," I returned a smile, "Thanks again, Molly, for showing me around the house, I've never met an owner so nice" I said as I recall meeting the past few house owners which were mostly drunk and couldn't stop laying their eyes on me. Greg, being extremely protective that he is, wouldn't let me stay with them even if I said yes.

"Oh no, dear," She corrected, "Don't thank me, I'm just the housekeeper."

"You should really thank Mr. Wentz, he's coming back from his trip tomorrow."

She gave me one last smile and walked out of the room, leaving me standing next to the table, feet planted to the floor.

"Mister-" I paused, "Mr. Wentz?"

Thought that that was one of the best decisions I'd made for myself, something told me that more would be coming.