Alright people, here's the deal. I have decided to finally write a story that I have prepared for. This is part one of more chapters to come.
You're on in Five
I never really knew why on your graduation, you threw your hat in the air. I suppose it's to symbolize your new-found freedom, your breakage from the supposed prison that was called school. To me, it was just another way of dirtying up a piece of clothing and securing another chore you had to do when you got home.
My graduation was a couple of months ago. I admit, I miss high school a bit. When you go to a place day in and day out for four years, you sort of grow attached, you know? Don't get me wrong, I'm ecstatic to be free. I finally am not under the rule of my parents, the people who were gracious enough to give me (as a graduation present) enough money to buy my own place in the big NYC.
Of course, I had to convince them for hours to let me take a couple years off before college. Shouldn't I explore myself, discover what I really want out of life? In my opinion, you should know exactly what you want before you do anything as important as entering college. And my opinion tends to always beat out my parents - one of the perks of being an only child.
“My own place” was a gorgeous one bedroom apartment with a full-on kitchen, living room - the works. The price wasn't the absolute best, seeing how our economy is pretty much crap, but my parents are loaded, so all is well. Not to mention I have the most fabulous boyfriend I could have ever dreamed up. Michael has been my sweetie since my junior year, and yesterday he got us the best job in the world.
There's a radio station several blocks from my apartment, and his mom's cousin works there. She got Michael and me our own radio show, the main idea being us accepting calls from various people who are in need of help with their relationships. We have to start immediately because there were people who quit their job, and the station doesn't want to replace the show with music. That would be just as horrible as dead air, seeing how the music on the station is, well, horrendous.
I swiped my bag from the floor and rested it on my shoulder, the handle digging into my skin. I eyed the clock before I left and rolled my eyes – I had plenty of time. Michael had a tendency to think that I was unreliable, therefore calling me an hour before I was due somewhere. Like I had the capability to be late.
As I walked down the hallway, I realized that my heels had an immense dislike for me. They kept getting wedged into the floor and causing me to nearly fall over. Eventually I gave up, ripping off the shoes and charging back into my apartment. I approached my closet and threw the heels into it, taking out a pair of wedges. I made a mental note to return those shoes sometime soon.
I exited my apartment once more and clonked down the stairs, noticing the attack of rain that was victimizing my poor building. Hopefully the doorman will have a spare umbrella, even though I had no problem using my bag. Damn thing probably was cutting off my circulation. I let it slip from my shoulder and into my hand, which ate up most of the handle so my bag wouldn't drag on the floor.
“Hey,” I greeted our doorman. “You wouldn't happen to have a spare umbrella, would you?” The man shook his head regretfully, opening the door as he did so.
“Sorry ma'am,” he apologized, shooting me a pitiful smile. His five o' clock shadow clashed with his incredibly white teeth. “But I reckon the rain's about to let up, don't you think so?” I poked my head outside and felt massive raindrops plop onto my neck, causing me to shiver, retreat back into the lobby, and thank the lord for the invention of the heater.
“Right,” I lied, unreeling my bag and dropping it on top of my head. “I'll see you.” He nodded his hat and closed the door when I stepped out into the rain. I ran to the edge of the street, waving my hand like an idiot. People should have courses on how to hail a cab.
Fortunately, I was successful. A cab skidded to the curb, splashing a puddle of water onto my open-toed wedges. I threw my bag onto the seat before I stepped in, and listened to the enjoyable sound of my teeth chattering. I told the cabbie where I needed to go, and he sped off in that direction, taking me to the radio station.
I sighed as I leaned my head on the back of my seat, closing my eyes for a moment. After a moment's time, I realized that I hadn't gotten my morning coffee yet; hopefully there was a shop by the station.
I must have dozed off, for I had to be woken up by the driver, who was telling me that we had arrived at our destination. I yawned and sat up, digging into my now-dry bag and retrieving a couple of bills. The cabbie took them and handed me my change as I stepped out into the rain once more. “Thanks,” I told him as he drove away, once again cruelly torturing my toes with cold water.
There was a coffee shop a couple hundred yards from where I was. I grinned, putting my bag on my head once more, and approached the shop. A bell rang as I entered, the warm heat encasing my body as I stepped into the welcoming aroma of caffeine. “Two vanilla lattes?” I ordered, already getting out my wallet. The boy behind the counter nodded, handing me my order within a couple minutes. I swiped my Visa and exited the shop, sipping my coffee.
My drink helped my mind drift away from the fact that I was drenched head-to-toe in freezing liquid. I pushed open the door to the radio station with my foot, for my hands were preoccupied with carrying my delicious morning wake-up call.
I was immediately bombarded by my boyfriend, who seized my hand and led me down the hall. “Mirabelle,” he sneered. “I told you you'd be late.” I rolled my eyes; he should have called earlier.
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Alright, so this is in first person. It's raw, and the first chapter of a story that seems to be going nowhere (but I assure you, it's not) . Anybody generous enough to help me?
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