Control Yourself
The Search is On
Shae groaned inwardly.
“Any luck?” Kara asked, leaning over the counter to examine the newspaper ads for apartments with her best friend. Shae shook her head.
“None suitable for my needs…” She muttered, twirling a pencil in her hand.
“Maybe you just need to lower the bar,” Kara suggested, tucking a strand of honey blond hair behind her ear, her greenish blue eyes settling upon an ad Shae had yet to review.
“What about this one?” Her polished finger pointed to the ad.
“Two bedroom, bathroom, balcony, hardwood floors, pets allowed…” Shae read under her breath. She shrugged her shoulders. “It seems alright, on a good street – not to far from the studio…”
“You should call and go check it out,” Kara suggested, tugging herself upwards, heading over to the fridge to grab a few strawberries off a plate on the top, glass shelf.
Shae contemplated the idea for a moment, finally deciding it was better than nothing. She circled the ad with her pencil; the first ad she circled all night.
“I think I’m going to head to bed…” Shae said, setting the pencil down in the crease of the paper, hopping off the wooden bar stool.
“It’s only like eight,” Kara reminded her, popping a strawberry into her mouth. Shae shrugged.
“I’m whipped – I didn’t realize Thursdays were so busy…” She mused. “See you in the morning.”
Shae dragged herself up the stairs, flopping into bed after going through her ritual face washing routine and charging her phone. She tucked herself under the blankets, releasing a long sigh, setting her alarm for six o’clock the next morning. Shae had full intentions on getting up bright and early, heading to the gym to run the treadmill for an hour, showering, and then heading to the studio. After several moments of tossing and turning, Shae finally fell asleep, clutching tightly yet again to the down-filled pillow beneath her head.
*
The next morning, Shae was one of the first people at the gym. In her aqua, racer back sports bra and her black capris; she adjusted the laces of her pure white, Nike Shox, and then began running on the treadmill. Shae popped the ear buds of her iPod into her ears, listening to the sounds of Rihanna, MGMT, Van Halen, as well as Nine Inch Nails. It was an odd combination, but each artist on her play-list of varying musicians required different emotions to arise in Shae, making her feel aggressive, or powerful, or sexy – in turn, channeling different aspects of her to push onward.
Shae had been running for about forty minutes on a five-percent incline when a familiar stranger leaned against the treadmill, smirking up at her. She scowled, tearing her ear buds from her ears.
“What?” She snapped, breathless.
The stranger from the fight club just chuckled as Shae wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Your man wanted me to thank you for the gloves,” He said.
Shae huffed.
“Ex-man,” She reminded him coolly.
The guy nodded, smugly smiling. Shae rolled her eyes, stopping the treadmill. Gradually it slowed down to a stop and Shae hopped off, grabbing the white, terry cloth towel that had been resting on the hand rail. She dabbed her sweating forehead, as well as her shoulders.
“I guess ‘ex-man’ means he can’t thank you for himself,” The guy scoffed. Shae rolled her eyes.
“Something like that,” She said, bending forward to snatch up her water bottle that was resting on the ground next to the treadmill. She popped open the top and began guzzling back water. The guy insisted on standing there, as though he was waiting for his compensation for serving as carrier pigeon between Shae and Greg. Shae wiped off her lips with the back of her hand.
“Is there something else?” She asked coolly, tossing her towel over her shoulder, placing her free hand on her hip. The guy just smirked, obviously enjoying his view. Shae rolled her eyes. He slipped his hands into the side pockets of his red shorts, shrugging.
“He cried like a little girl when he was beat,” He said. Shae rolled her eyes, brushing past him towards the ladies’ locker room, ignoring the glance her acquaintance cast over his shoulder as she hurried away.
As she slipped into the change room, setting her towel down on the wooden bench, stripping out of her sweaty gym apparel, Shae couldn’t help but muttering to herself about her encounter with the guy from the fight club. She stepped into the shower, rinsing her hair and scrubbing her body free of sweat and frustration. Any connection to Greg irritated her. She took in a few calming, tranquil breaths, turning the temperature of the tap to cold. Shae allowed the cool, refreshing water to absorb into her skin until she was relieved and upbeat. She stepped out of the shower, wrapping another terry cloth towel around her body, pulling on underwear, as well as a pair of black, yoga pants. As the sound of the locker door opening and voices emerging into the change room intensified, Shae quickly pulled on an orange Reebok tank top with a built-in shelf bra.
Shae towel dried her hair before stuffing her workout clothes into her gym bag, slinging the straps of her tote and bag onto her shoulder, unable to help overhearing the girls who had entered the locker room chattering happily.
“I can’t believe Forrest’s here,” One girl said as she primped her high ponytail. “I’ve never seen him here before.”
“He’s so much better looking in person,” The other swooned, adjusting the straps of her black halter.
Shae rushed out of the change room, her dripping hair clinging to her cheeks and her neck. The conversation was nothing worth listening to, she decided, the doors of the gym in sight. She kept the doors in plain view, barely looking away for fear of looking over at the guy. Her gym bag slapped against her side, her damp hair tangled in her straps. Shae grunted.
She reached the door without interference, placing her hand on the handle, ready to burst into the Nevada morning. Shae noticed, however, eyes locked on her from her peripherals. She turned her head quickly, catching a glimpse of the guy; his dark eyes meeting hers as he casually lifted weights. Shae slipped outside, hurrying over to her car. She shoved her bags into the back seat and headed off towards the studio.
“Any luck?” Kara asked, leaning over the counter to examine the newspaper ads for apartments with her best friend. Shae shook her head.
“None suitable for my needs…” She muttered, twirling a pencil in her hand.
“Maybe you just need to lower the bar,” Kara suggested, tucking a strand of honey blond hair behind her ear, her greenish blue eyes settling upon an ad Shae had yet to review.
“What about this one?” Her polished finger pointed to the ad.
“Two bedroom, bathroom, balcony, hardwood floors, pets allowed…” Shae read under her breath. She shrugged her shoulders. “It seems alright, on a good street – not to far from the studio…”
“You should call and go check it out,” Kara suggested, tugging herself upwards, heading over to the fridge to grab a few strawberries off a plate on the top, glass shelf.
Shae contemplated the idea for a moment, finally deciding it was better than nothing. She circled the ad with her pencil; the first ad she circled all night.
“I think I’m going to head to bed…” Shae said, setting the pencil down in the crease of the paper, hopping off the wooden bar stool.
“It’s only like eight,” Kara reminded her, popping a strawberry into her mouth. Shae shrugged.
“I’m whipped – I didn’t realize Thursdays were so busy…” She mused. “See you in the morning.”
Shae dragged herself up the stairs, flopping into bed after going through her ritual face washing routine and charging her phone. She tucked herself under the blankets, releasing a long sigh, setting her alarm for six o’clock the next morning. Shae had full intentions on getting up bright and early, heading to the gym to run the treadmill for an hour, showering, and then heading to the studio. After several moments of tossing and turning, Shae finally fell asleep, clutching tightly yet again to the down-filled pillow beneath her head.
*
The next morning, Shae was one of the first people at the gym. In her aqua, racer back sports bra and her black capris; she adjusted the laces of her pure white, Nike Shox, and then began running on the treadmill. Shae popped the ear buds of her iPod into her ears, listening to the sounds of Rihanna, MGMT, Van Halen, as well as Nine Inch Nails. It was an odd combination, but each artist on her play-list of varying musicians required different emotions to arise in Shae, making her feel aggressive, or powerful, or sexy – in turn, channeling different aspects of her to push onward.
Shae had been running for about forty minutes on a five-percent incline when a familiar stranger leaned against the treadmill, smirking up at her. She scowled, tearing her ear buds from her ears.
“What?” She snapped, breathless.
The stranger from the fight club just chuckled as Shae wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“Your man wanted me to thank you for the gloves,” He said.
Shae huffed.
“Ex-man,” She reminded him coolly.
The guy nodded, smugly smiling. Shae rolled her eyes, stopping the treadmill. Gradually it slowed down to a stop and Shae hopped off, grabbing the white, terry cloth towel that had been resting on the hand rail. She dabbed her sweating forehead, as well as her shoulders.
“I guess ‘ex-man’ means he can’t thank you for himself,” The guy scoffed. Shae rolled her eyes.
“Something like that,” She said, bending forward to snatch up her water bottle that was resting on the ground next to the treadmill. She popped open the top and began guzzling back water. The guy insisted on standing there, as though he was waiting for his compensation for serving as carrier pigeon between Shae and Greg. Shae wiped off her lips with the back of her hand.
“Is there something else?” She asked coolly, tossing her towel over her shoulder, placing her free hand on her hip. The guy just smirked, obviously enjoying his view. Shae rolled her eyes. He slipped his hands into the side pockets of his red shorts, shrugging.
“He cried like a little girl when he was beat,” He said. Shae rolled her eyes, brushing past him towards the ladies’ locker room, ignoring the glance her acquaintance cast over his shoulder as she hurried away.
As she slipped into the change room, setting her towel down on the wooden bench, stripping out of her sweaty gym apparel, Shae couldn’t help but muttering to herself about her encounter with the guy from the fight club. She stepped into the shower, rinsing her hair and scrubbing her body free of sweat and frustration. Any connection to Greg irritated her. She took in a few calming, tranquil breaths, turning the temperature of the tap to cold. Shae allowed the cool, refreshing water to absorb into her skin until she was relieved and upbeat. She stepped out of the shower, wrapping another terry cloth towel around her body, pulling on underwear, as well as a pair of black, yoga pants. As the sound of the locker door opening and voices emerging into the change room intensified, Shae quickly pulled on an orange Reebok tank top with a built-in shelf bra.
Shae towel dried her hair before stuffing her workout clothes into her gym bag, slinging the straps of her tote and bag onto her shoulder, unable to help overhearing the girls who had entered the locker room chattering happily.
“I can’t believe Forrest’s here,” One girl said as she primped her high ponytail. “I’ve never seen him here before.”
“He’s so much better looking in person,” The other swooned, adjusting the straps of her black halter.
Shae rushed out of the change room, her dripping hair clinging to her cheeks and her neck. The conversation was nothing worth listening to, she decided, the doors of the gym in sight. She kept the doors in plain view, barely looking away for fear of looking over at the guy. Her gym bag slapped against her side, her damp hair tangled in her straps. Shae grunted.
She reached the door without interference, placing her hand on the handle, ready to burst into the Nevada morning. Shae noticed, however, eyes locked on her from her peripherals. She turned her head quickly, catching a glimpse of the guy; his dark eyes meeting hers as he casually lifted weights. Shae slipped outside, hurrying over to her car. She shoved her bags into the back seat and headed off towards the studio.