Paradise City

"How long have you been holed up in that apartment?" James asked over the phone as I munched on a piece of toast.

I had tried a dozen times to convince him that I was actually doing things in Vegas, but the only thing that I had really accomplished was going to the grocery store and buying a loaf of bread, a tub of butter, jar of grape jelly, and a box of cereal. Even that didn't take too much effort, because there was a Whole Foods within walking distance.

It had been a month since I had moved in. A month of television show marathons; I had been through all of LOST, Breaking Bad, and The Office. A month of eating almost nothing but chicken salad sandwiches, and I'm talking about the chicken you get out of a can mixed with mayonnaise. A month of avoiding actually going outside because it was so hot. A month of fucking up my sleep schedule. A month of taking a shower every four days and not shaving my legs.

The only human interaction I had was the cashier at whatever store I had to go to to get more canned chicken or ice cream.

"You're depressed." James said.

"I'm not depressed." I replied, with a mouthful of chocolate frosting that I was eating right out of the container.

"You move all the way across the country to 'start over', yet you just sit in your fancy-schmancy apartment and be depressed. Tell me, have you started on Grey's Anatomy yet?"

"No." I sat down the remote, not clicking on my seventh straight episode of Grey's.

"You live in Vegas of all places. You should be out there enjoying the strip, gambling all your money away, and getting wasted. Who knows maybe someone will roofie your drink and you'll wake up with a tiger in your bathroom."

"You're not funny." He was right though. I really needed to get out there. I sighed loudly into the phone. "Fine. I'll go shopping or something."

"There you go!" James interrupted. "Go spend some money. That always makes everyone feel better." I mentally cursed him. I felt fine. "And while you're doing that, can you add some color into your wardrobe? A girl shouldn't wear just three colors."

"Okay, RuPaul, calm down." I stood up, setting my jar of frosting on the kitchen counter and walked back into my bedroom. When I opened my closet I looked at the clothes inside. There was a lot of black, a lot of grey, and some red and browns, and blue if you count jeans. I pulled out a black crop top and a pair of jeans.

"I'm just saying."

"Whatever, I'm going to go shopping. I'll text you or something."

"Please do." He replied. "Oh and invest in some high he-"

I pressed the red 'end' button and threw my phone on the bed. I had no interest in shopping. I had no interest in doing anything but sitting on my couch and getting fat and crying over an extremely unrealistic show about doctors.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, saying I was unhappy with the reflection was the understatement of the year. A fitness room is included in my rent, I should probably start to take advantage of that, I thought to myself as I poked at my sides.

The strip was always busy, which was why I tried to stay away from it for the most part. Before my parents- before they passed away, I liked huge groups of people. I enjoyed being the life of the party and the center of attention. Now I wanted to avoid everyone at all costs. I literally had to Google where the best shops were in Vegas, because obviously I wouldn't know. I was trying to go all-out here and not revert to just going to Walmart.

First, I walked through Bally's. My stomach turned thinking about fine jewelry and designer handbags. The jewelry that I wore came from the clearance racks at J.C Penny, and they almost always turned your skin green if you wore it for too long. Second, I hit up Excalibur. Once inside, however, I immediately regretted my decision as there were live plays about medieval times and King Authur's Court. I avoided Crystal's because the word 'Fendi' was plastered on the front of the building. I picked up a couple dressed at the Cosmopolitan, but I had to make sure that they were on the 70% off rack, because everything there was way too overpriced.

After I left there I gave up and ended up driving to the nearest Khol's.

I found a few pairs of shorts that I liked, a couple skirts, and over loaded myself with shirts and blouses. They were having a sweater sale to get ready for summer, but what was the difference in Vegas? I found a cute pair of sandals like the ones Alisha was wearing, a cute pair of black flats, and a pair of nude heels to go with my dresses, if I ever decided to wear them.

That was enough for one day. It was already getting late.

Before heading home, I swung by Panda Express and picked up a smorgasbord of Chinese Food- a little treat to myself for accomplishing something today, and a break from the chicken salad sandwiches.

As I stepped out of the elevator on my floor, I heard a door slam. "Oh, rude neighbor must be back in town." I mumbled under my breath and unlocked my door. I dropped the clothes bags at the entrance and kicked them to the side, hurriedly making my way back to the couch with my take out to resume my Grey's marathon.



I woke up a few hours later. The screen was asking me if I wanted to continue or not. I yawned and declined, shutting the TV off, making my way back to my bedroom. The clothes were still in their bags on the floor, Chinese food containers littered my living room table, and it was almost two o'clock in the morning. I hated this sleeping schedule. I used to be that girl that was asleep by 9:00 p.m and up by 7:00.

My head hit the pillow and I reached over to shut the light off. I closed my eyes and thought of nothingness.

I was rudely pulled from my thoughts when a loud banging began on the other side of my bedroom wall.

I turned the light back on and listened for a moment.

It sounded like someone was hitting the wall with a hammer, hitting it with so much force that I could feel it. I was confused at first, but only for a half second before I heard a chorus of "Oh my God" and "Fuck" and "Fuck me harder, Dean". My stomach knotted. I felt like I was going to be sick.

It was almost two in the morning, I was exhausted.

"Harder! HARDER! FUCK!"

I balled my fist and hit the wall a couple times, yelling at the couple in the next room to kindly shut the fuck up.

They didn't.

Thirty minutes passed by and they were still going at it.

An hour.

Two hours.

I was moving from disgusted to impressed, though I was a little sick of hearing this girl beg for him to suck on her titties. And it was laughable every time she asked for a spanking because she was a 'naughty girl'.

Suddenly with a loud "Fuuuuuck!" from both 'Dean' and whatever his partner's name was, the ruckus fell quiet.

I looked at the time. It was fifteen minutes to five, but I was wide awake now. The lovers remained quiet, I was sure by now that they were cuddling up next to each other, spooning, and basking in each other's nakedness. I gagged.

"Don't you for one second think that you're going to sleep that easily, Dean." I sneered as I pulled out my phone and plugged it into my stereo. My thumb slid up the screen, searching for a good song to put on. I stopped at my dad's most hated song of all time, but I loved it for some reason, 'Stayin' Alive' by Bee Gees. I turned all the speakers towards the wall for added effect, and turned the volume up as far as it could go. I grabbed a bottle of lotion from the dresser to use as a microphone and fell into some form of dance with the music.

I cleared my throat and with my best Barry Gibb voice, I began singing the first verse.

Ignoring the loud knocks that came from the bedroom opposite mine, I continued into the chorus. "AH AH AH AH stayin' alive, stayin' alive. AH AH AH AH stayin' aliiiiiiiivvvveeeeee!" I moved into the living room, continuing my personal rock concert at five o'clock in the morning.

The knocks moved from my bedroom wall to my front door. I peaked out the peephole and saw the man whom I had bumped into the first day that I had moved in. Only this time, he wasn't covered up with a baseball cap and hulking, leather jacket. He actually was a very attractive man, if you got past the receding hairline and the fact that he didn't have a top lip. And also the fact that I had just listened to him bang some chick for the past two hours.

I opened my door. He was standing there, leaning up against the frame in a white t-shirt and boxers. Sure, maybe he was mad that my music was a little loud, but he was probably more irritated at the fact that he had to actually put clothes on. But of course, I didn't know this man. I shouldn't be judging him so harshly.

"Can I help you?" I asked over the music that was still blaring in the background.

"Yeah, can you chill out in here? We're trying to sleep."

"Oh, you're trying to sleep. Right. Why should I care? Because for the past two hours I've been trying to sleep, and you didn't really seem to take me into consideration when you were spanking your 'naughty girl'."

He smirked, shifted his head, and cracked his neck. "I'm not gonna apologize to you."

"Well then," I said as I shimmied backwards. "Neither am I."

I slammed the door in his face, and shrugged, dancing my way back to my bedroom. I let the song play out before I shut off my stereo and crawled back in bed. I heard a loud "thank you" from the other side of the wall and rolled my eyes.

Jackass.