Status: Slowly but surely
I'll Play the Romeo, You Play the Juliet
One
My alarm wakes me up from yet another nightmare. Taking a glance at my phone, which confirmed the dreadful Monday awaiting, I sigh heavily. Stretching, kicking the raggedy sheets off my body is more difficult than it sounds. The first thing that catches my eye is the evidence from last night’s panic attack. Cuts and scratches still aching, I jump into the shower, attempting to ignore the painful attack of the hot water against my battle wounds.
Seven o’clock, probably on the dot, my phone buzzes on the bathroom counter as I step out of the shower. Without even checking, I know who it is. “Hi Mom, yeah I just got out of the shower. Yeah, it’s great here, my apartment is perfect size. I miss you too. Yeah, I know. I’m fine, really. I know. Hey, I really should get to work. Yeah I know you are. I understand. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Mom I really have to-yeah. Mom, seriously, I’m in my towel and it’s cold. Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise. Yeah. I love you too, bye.”
Throwing my phone onto the bed, I get ready for the ten to five shift. I quickly dress into my favorite black slacks and purple top. My job is relatively easy. Being the secretary of a large business is better than nothing, right? Once my hair is up in a fancy bun, and I carefully apply my cheap makeup, I run out the door to catch the bus to downtown Orange County. I honestly am used to the glances and stares I get every damn time on the streets by all different types of men, and the occasional wolf whistle by the pervs.
On the bus is my designated “me time”. I put my earbuds in, and blast my music. Once the red and black screen flashes my street, I put my music into my purse, and step to the doors. I feel a crack under my foot once I step on the pavement, and scream out a big “oof!” as I fall flat on my ass. I look to my left foot, and to no surprise, my stiletto has broken. “Dammit,” I whisper-yell, as I reach for the heel. An unfamiliar hand reaches down, and grabs it, and offers me another hand to help me up.
“You took a pretty big fall there! Are you alright?” The tall, heavily tattooed man asked while helping me to my feet.
“Yeah, these damn shoes aren’t very supportive.” I mutter, wobbling to the curb.
“Here, I’ll run into the store at the corner and buy you a pair, what size are you?” The stranger inquired. I shot him a gross look. “Oh my god, I swear I don’t have a foot fetish. I just feel bad that those shoes broke. Please, just let me get a pair for you.” He nearly begged. I check the time on my watch, still having about an hour and a half before clock in. I shrug my shoulders and peel off my shoes.
“Which store were you talking about?” I look around, and even though I thought I had this street memorized, it looked so unfamiliar.
“Just this little shop I go to for my shoes. They recently put in women’s shoes.” The guy replied. Glancing at him, he was more attractive than I realized. His short, brown hair had a little bit of spike to it, and he was able to pull off a nose ring. His freckles were visible in the sunlight, and he wore a Slipnot shirt with black skinny jeans. We reach the store, and he opens the door, and motions me to go on in.
“Is this the part where I get murdered?” I ask him, and he responds with a chuckle.
“Tony! What’s up?” He asks what seems to be the owner, who replies with something I couldn’t hear. “I’m set for shoes, it’s her that needs a pair of shoes. Her heel snapped, and she took a big fall.”
“What size are you, love?” The balding man asked.
“Varies from a nine to nine and a half.” I respond, slightly embarrassed by having to announce my huge size of my feet. Yeah, I may be 5’9, but it still bothers me. Tony disappears into the back room, and comes back with a pile of shoe boxes. He quickly flips the tops over, and I instantly fall in love with each pair. Tony grabs the first pair, and slides it onto my foot, and does the same with the other. I stand, and look in the full length mirror. The black pair had slits down the side, and an open toe. We go through with every pair, with various comments from both men, and my mouth dropping in awe every time by the gorgeous shoes. I decided to get the third pair, a black stiletto ankle boot with a silver lining. I didn’t recognize the brand, but by the name, it seemed way too expensive for my usual style.
“Would you like to wear your new pair out or put on the broken ones?” Tony jokes, and takes the box to the register. We follow him, and I attempt to pull out my credit card.
“No no no, we decided that I would pay, put it away now.” The man ordered. I pouted, and put my wallet back in my purse. Once he pays, without Tony showing the price, the stranger and I walk out.
“You really didn’t have to do this, you know? Helping me was more than enough.” I tell him.
“It was my pleasure, honestly. My Converse break all the time on stage, but luckily fans sometimes give me gift cards to the store.” He replies.
“Fans? Are you a singer?” I question. Did a famous person just buy me shoes? Did I spend forty-five minutes with someone famous?
“Kinda. I’m a frontman in a rock band.” He shyly replied, rubbing his hand on his neck.
“Wait, really? I work at a record company for different rock bands!” I practically yell out.
“No way, which one?” He quickly asks.
“Rise, it was based in Oregon, but just recently opened up a place here!” I answer.
“I’m meeting my band there! We have a meeting with Craig at eleven.” He says, and we start walking down the couple blocks.
He tells me how him and the guys are trying to get another tour going, the last one practically sold out every single night. Once we shared stories about the craziest things we’ve seen in our work, we reach the building.
“Well, I better get up to my office before Ericson yells for his coffee.” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, it was great this morning, I had a lot of fun.” He laughs, but makes it obvious he doesn’t want our conversation to end.
“Yeah, so, I’ll see you around?” I string out, feeling the slight awkwardness as I press the UP button for the elevator.
“Yeah, totally!” He responds quickly, and the elevator chimes, and the doors open. I start to walk in, and he yells, “What’s your name again?”
“Kaylee.” I answer.
“Austin.”
Seven o’clock, probably on the dot, my phone buzzes on the bathroom counter as I step out of the shower. Without even checking, I know who it is. “Hi Mom, yeah I just got out of the shower. Yeah, it’s great here, my apartment is perfect size. I miss you too. Yeah, I know. I’m fine, really. I know. Hey, I really should get to work. Yeah I know you are. I understand. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Mom I really have to-yeah. Mom, seriously, I’m in my towel and it’s cold. Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise. Yeah. I love you too, bye.”
Throwing my phone onto the bed, I get ready for the ten to five shift. I quickly dress into my favorite black slacks and purple top. My job is relatively easy. Being the secretary of a large business is better than nothing, right? Once my hair is up in a fancy bun, and I carefully apply my cheap makeup, I run out the door to catch the bus to downtown Orange County. I honestly am used to the glances and stares I get every damn time on the streets by all different types of men, and the occasional wolf whistle by the pervs.
On the bus is my designated “me time”. I put my earbuds in, and blast my music. Once the red and black screen flashes my street, I put my music into my purse, and step to the doors. I feel a crack under my foot once I step on the pavement, and scream out a big “oof!” as I fall flat on my ass. I look to my left foot, and to no surprise, my stiletto has broken. “Dammit,” I whisper-yell, as I reach for the heel. An unfamiliar hand reaches down, and grabs it, and offers me another hand to help me up.
“You took a pretty big fall there! Are you alright?” The tall, heavily tattooed man asked while helping me to my feet.
“Yeah, these damn shoes aren’t very supportive.” I mutter, wobbling to the curb.
“Here, I’ll run into the store at the corner and buy you a pair, what size are you?” The stranger inquired. I shot him a gross look. “Oh my god, I swear I don’t have a foot fetish. I just feel bad that those shoes broke. Please, just let me get a pair for you.” He nearly begged. I check the time on my watch, still having about an hour and a half before clock in. I shrug my shoulders and peel off my shoes.
“Which store were you talking about?” I look around, and even though I thought I had this street memorized, it looked so unfamiliar.
“Just this little shop I go to for my shoes. They recently put in women’s shoes.” The guy replied. Glancing at him, he was more attractive than I realized. His short, brown hair had a little bit of spike to it, and he was able to pull off a nose ring. His freckles were visible in the sunlight, and he wore a Slipnot shirt with black skinny jeans. We reach the store, and he opens the door, and motions me to go on in.
“Is this the part where I get murdered?” I ask him, and he responds with a chuckle.
“Tony! What’s up?” He asks what seems to be the owner, who replies with something I couldn’t hear. “I’m set for shoes, it’s her that needs a pair of shoes. Her heel snapped, and she took a big fall.”
“What size are you, love?” The balding man asked.
“Varies from a nine to nine and a half.” I respond, slightly embarrassed by having to announce my huge size of my feet. Yeah, I may be 5’9, but it still bothers me. Tony disappears into the back room, and comes back with a pile of shoe boxes. He quickly flips the tops over, and I instantly fall in love with each pair. Tony grabs the first pair, and slides it onto my foot, and does the same with the other. I stand, and look in the full length mirror. The black pair had slits down the side, and an open toe. We go through with every pair, with various comments from both men, and my mouth dropping in awe every time by the gorgeous shoes. I decided to get the third pair, a black stiletto ankle boot with a silver lining. I didn’t recognize the brand, but by the name, it seemed way too expensive for my usual style.
“Would you like to wear your new pair out or put on the broken ones?” Tony jokes, and takes the box to the register. We follow him, and I attempt to pull out my credit card.
“No no no, we decided that I would pay, put it away now.” The man ordered. I pouted, and put my wallet back in my purse. Once he pays, without Tony showing the price, the stranger and I walk out.
“You really didn’t have to do this, you know? Helping me was more than enough.” I tell him.
“It was my pleasure, honestly. My Converse break all the time on stage, but luckily fans sometimes give me gift cards to the store.” He replies.
“Fans? Are you a singer?” I question. Did a famous person just buy me shoes? Did I spend forty-five minutes with someone famous?
“Kinda. I’m a frontman in a rock band.” He shyly replied, rubbing his hand on his neck.
“Wait, really? I work at a record company for different rock bands!” I practically yell out.
“No way, which one?” He quickly asks.
“Rise, it was based in Oregon, but just recently opened up a place here!” I answer.
“I’m meeting my band there! We have a meeting with Craig at eleven.” He says, and we start walking down the couple blocks.
He tells me how him and the guys are trying to get another tour going, the last one practically sold out every single night. Once we shared stories about the craziest things we’ve seen in our work, we reach the building.
“Well, I better get up to my office before Ericson yells for his coffee.” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, it was great this morning, I had a lot of fun.” He laughs, but makes it obvious he doesn’t want our conversation to end.
“Yeah, so, I’ll see you around?” I string out, feeling the slight awkwardness as I press the UP button for the elevator.
“Yeah, totally!” He responds quickly, and the elevator chimes, and the doors open. I start to walk in, and he yells, “What’s your name again?”
“Kaylee.” I answer.
“Austin.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Ehhhhhh? Ehhhhh?!But seriously, please let me know what you think! I'm a college student trying to get more creative :b Please leave comments my lovelies!