As promised, I hope you all enjoy it and stick with it.
The sun was ablaze, high in the sky, heating up the New York City streets for the first time in the long, cold months of winter. Icicles were melting, the streets lined with snowy slush that had been beaten down by thousands of taxicab drivers. But the sun was shining, and that was all that mattered to her; standing on the curb, cardboard box balanced on her hip as she stared up at the tall building that stood before her.
It was a completely different world than that of which she had been used to. For a moment, she wondered if she had bit off more than she could chew- becoming dizzy in the electricity that flowed and pulsed through the air. But that was only for a moment as she recalled her eclectic hometown, the gravel roads and mountains.
With a deep breath and prominent exhale, she entered the fray of double-breasted, suit wearing, businessmen and women who were in a rush to get back to work before their lunch breaks were over; trying not to step on any toes as she made her way to the front steps of her new apartment building.
Right as her hand closed in on the handle, the door flew open, almost knocking her back down those six steps and back on to the damp pavement.
"Woah, sorry. Sorry! I didn't see you. I'm so sorry." He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old; dark brown hair poking out from underneath the beanie he was wearing. He was clutching a bag of Skittles in one hand, and a computer keyboard was tucked underneath his arm. His northern accent was muddled by the sounds of him chewing with his mouth open. "Moving in?" The boy nodded to the box she had been clutching labeled 'NECESSITIES'.
"Yeah, thanks." She replied as he held the door open for her.
"Good luck!" He called after her. "Sucks if you live on the top floor!"
She took a quick second to process what he had just said, but the boy was gone by the time she had turned around to ask him what he meant. It didn't take long to figure it out though, coming across a sign plastered on the doors of the elevator 'OUT OF ORDER INDEFINITELY'. Caution tape hung loosely from the corners.
"Delightful," she mumbled to herself.
Her apartment was on the sixth floor of seven. She stared up her first flight of stairs, her insides laughing, her legs already feeling weak. There were teenagers littering the steps, smoking cigarettes and making out with each other; all of them ignoring the no smoking signs that adorned the walls on each floor. She thought about asking one them for help, but she was on her third trip, and if any of them were even slightly interested in helping her haul her heavy boxes up six flights of stairs, they would have offered. Instead, they were staring with hazy eyes and smirks on their faces. This was starting to look more like a college dormitory than an apartment complex.
A sigh escaped her lips as she sat the last of the boxes on the floor next to cardboard fortress she had already made. After nearly five hours, her legs wobbled with each step she took; calves burning, the heels of her feet felt raw and exposed in her Keds.
She dropped down to the hardwood, leaning her tired body on a stack of boxes, and looked at the space around her. Half of the apartment had already been furnished. The last tenant was a ninety-seven year old woman named Marjorie; a collector of Monet, who died in her sleep after consuming too much wine one Saturday night. The landlord said she only paid half of her monthly rent each month, and the rest in homemade macaroons. He could have made it all back, and more, if he had sold the paintings, but they still adjourned the walls; white sheets draped over them to keep the dust off.
"She was a kind woman," the landlord had said about the old woman. "I don't think she had any family."
Other than the paintings, there was an old couch, a kitchen table, and an armoire that were left behind. The refrigerator- which looked like it was one of the first ever made- had a collection of alphabet magnets on it, and little notes written in cursive. One of them was for Ray's Pizza, another was a reminder to pay the light bill. She left them both where they were, not wanting to disrupt Marjorie's space. In a way, the woman whom she had never even met, felt so familiar already.
She did pick up her phone, however, and dialed the number for Ray's Pizza; her stomach screaming at her after only being fed Chewy granola bars and Chex Mix throughout the day.
"Thanks for calling Ray's, this is Ray, what can I get started for you?" His northern accent was thick through the speaker that she held to her ear.
"Hi, I'd like to order a medium pepperoni and onion pizza." She replied.
"We got a special on all of our large pizzas tonight, would you like to upgrade or stick with a medium?"
"You know what, I'm starving. Give me the large." She could hear the man chuckle to himself. "And do you guys sell drinks? I'll take an orange soda, if you have it."
"We can do that for you. Will this be pick-up or delivery?"
"Delivery, and I'm so sorry but our elevator is broken so it's a six floor climb."
Ray seemed to know exactly which building she was in, and with another laugh, asked which apartment number. Twenty minutes later, her pizza arrived, and she did not hold back as she devoured half of it in under ten minutes. Her glassware was lost somewhere in her box fortress, and she wondered how pathetic she looked drinking right out of the bottle.
Despite initially moving to New York to find whatever she felt was missing in her life; not knowing if it was companionship, a family she never had, or just adventure- a loneliness settled in her bones, worse than she had felt in a long time. Making her realize that maybe she hadn't been as alone as she had thought in her small town of less than 5,000 people.
Her fingers held her cellphone once more, lingering over the dial pad on the screen. There was one number she wanted to call, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. After all, she and her best friend hadn't parted on the best of terms. With a frown, she placed her phone back on the couch at her side and stood up, finally deciding to start on unpacking her belongings; hoping it would help keep her mind off of the past.
After all, she thought. I am here to work on my future.
The sun had just began to set behind New York's skyline, filling the space with a glowing orange light. As she began to unpack the 'bedroom' box, a light knock came from the door. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, pulling an elastic from her wrist, and her hair back into a bun; trying to make herself look a little more presentable after a long day of driving and stair-climbing.
"Who is it?" She asked through the door, before taking a look in the peephole. A petite woman stood in the hallway. Black framed glasses sat upon her round cheeks, dark brunette hair framed her face.
"I'm your new neighbor!" She exclaimed. With a few clicks, the door was pulled open. The woman smiled wide, a plate covered with aluminum foil in her hand as she stuck the other one out excitedly. "I'm Kayla! My boyfriend and I live down the hall, and I just wanted to welcome you to the building. I doubt anyone has done that already."
"No, they haven't." She replied, taking the plate from her new neighbor. "I'm Emma."
"Well it's such a delight to meet you, Emma." Kayla beamed. "It's a homemade cinnamon roll. You don't have to eat it, but I thought it'd be a nice gesture after all the moving. What do you think about those stairs, eh? You know they say the elevator is out of order, indefinitely but the truth is that they just don't want to spend the money to get someone to come and fix it. Not that it's such a terrible thing, I've lost over ten pounds climbing those stairs."
Emma's eyes widened as she tried to keep up with the words that rolled effortlessly from the girl's mouth.
"I remember when Kit, my boyfriend, and I first moved in. Just be thankful you didn't have to carry your mother's china cabinet up six flights of stairs. That was fun!"
"Well I really appreciate the welcoming gift, Kayla." A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "But it's getting late, and I still have a lot of unpacking to do. I'd love to talk more, some time."
"Oh, it's no problem at all. We're in apartment 616, if you ever need anything. I could show you around the city or we could get lunch somewhere."
"Definitely! It was nice to meet you." Emma said as she backed into her apartment.
It took a little less than two weeks to have the apartment looking like a home. Everything was unpacked or stored away if she didn't need it. There was a bed, and a TV with cable. There was food in the refrigerator, and she even bought a few plants to sit on the window sil. But something was still missing. The loneliness still lingered in the air around her at all times.
Was it companionship, maybe? She thought of adopting a cat. She knew she wasn't going to find true love in the first day, but was hoping to at least have met someone by now. And not her jibbering neighbor with an A+ baking skill. In all the movies she had ever seen, the girl moves out of her small town and finds her Prince Charming in the first hour of being in the big city. It's not realistic, but those rom-coms were the only thing she had to go by.
Maybe you should make more of an effort, she thought as she stared in the mirror after a shower.
An hour and a half later, Emma found herself standing outside of apartment 616, picking at the frayed ends of the scarf she was wearing. After having knocked six times, with no answer, she immediately regretted taking her own advice of trying to make an effort.
Just as she turned around to head back to her own place, the door cracked open. "Yes?" It wasn't Kayla, but a tall gentleman with curly, dark hair.
"Hi, I was looking for Kayla?" It was more of a question than a statement. "I came to return the plate she gave me last week. It's clean and all, I'm sorry it took so long." Emma could feel her anxiety rise. She hadn't met anyone new in years. She had known the same people her whole life.
"You're Emma, the new neighbor." She nodded, and the man opened the door all the way, offering for her to come inside. "I'm Kit, by the way. Kayla just ran to the store, she'll be back in a few." He said, extending a hand.
Emma gladly shook it, eyes flitting around their apartment, taking in all of the decorations. The walls were lined with pictures and little decorative lights, and there was a giant bookshelf with a hundred different books and movies. "That's beautiful." She breathed, pointing to a painting on the wall.
"It's one of Kayla's," he replied. "Most of them are. Except that one." She noticed he was pointing to a Monet. "Marjorie, the woman who lived in your apartment before you, gave that one to Kayla as a gift."
"That was nice of her."
"She was a nice lady," Kit said as he took a sip of his drink. Emma nodded and browsed over their book and DVD collection. "Feel free to borrow whatever you want."
"Oh, thanks, but I have a terrible memory and I'll forget to bring it back."
He laughed. "Well if you forget, just remember… I know where you live."
"Right." She replied, running a finger down the spine of an old copy of Pride & Prejudice.
The front door swung open, causing her to jump. Kayla came bounding in, arms full of grocery bags. Her face lit up when she saw Emma. "Hello, neighbor!" She said excitedly.
She offered a small wave. Kit crossed the room to help her with the bags, and placed a kiss on her forehead. Emma's lips turned into a half-assed smile at their affection towards each other. "Emma was just coming to return the plate you let her borrow." He told her as he began to unpack some vegetables.
"It was delicious," She told Kayla. "Thank you so much."
"It's my mother's recipe. I'll tell her you said that, because she's still convinced I can't cook for shit." Kayla replied. "I'm actually about to make some dinner now, if you'd like to stay."
"I- I couldn't possibly. I really appreciate the offer, but I don't want to intrude." Her insides feeling tense at the mention of spending more time than she needed to with people she didn't know.
"It would be our pleasure," Kit added.
Kayla ended up fixing a delicious, homemade lasagna that the three of them scarfed down rather quickly. They told Emma the story of how they met. They were both interviewing for a job at the same company, and they both ended up getting hired. The sparkle in Kayla's eyes as she recalled the moment she first saw Kit was enough to light the entire room. Emma's heart panged with envy.
"What brings you to New York, Emma?" Kit asked as the conversation had begun to die down.
She had spent the last few hours trying to avoid talking about herself or her past. It was irrelevant, and unimportant, and not to mention boring.
A long breath escaped her lips. "I'm not really sure, to be honest. I came here because I felt like there was something else out there for me. I grew up in a small town, and I felt like a shark in a fishbowl. I needed a change of scenery."
They exchanged a look before Kayla asked, "what about your family? They didn't try to keep you from moving?"
She shook her head, pushing her plate away from her. "When I was six years old, my parents dropped me off on my grandmother's doorstep and never came back. I only really had one best friend, but she's married now, and focusing on starting her own family. And hating me, for leaving, I guess. My grandmother died two years ago, so… I guess, I don't really have any family."
She paused for a moment as her words settled. The silence in the room was deafening, and she couldn't help but immediately regret saying anything. There was a flash of pity on Kayla's features, but it was quickly replaced with a smile that relieved the tension that she felt. Emma wasn't sad when she recalled her childhood, which she always wondered if people found that odd.
"I wasn't dealt the best hand," she added. "But I made the most out of it. I think."
"You're going to find what you're looking for," Kayla said with confidence. "I just know it!" Her optimism reassured Emma. "And besides, you have us now! We will help you!"
Before she retreated back to her own apartment, Emma thanked her new friends one more time. Kayla had fixed up another plate of leftovers to take with her for tomorrow, which was extremely generous.
After she had stripped down to her pajamas, she sat on the bed with her feet dangling off, staring out the window at the vast New York City skyline.
She thought about all of the people that she could see through the windows, and what they were doing with their lives. Were they happy? Were they miserable? Did they like their jobs? How many of them were in love? In the distance she could see the Avengers tower. She thought about what it would be like to be different like they were. She thought about what it would be like to save the world, and have people look up to you.
What would it take for her life to be different? What would she have to give up? What would she need to change? What if she moved all the way here and this isn't even where she was supposed to be? Was she just wasting her time?
She pulled the covers back on the bed and slid in between the cold fabric.
"I'm ready for a change," she whispered into the air as she drifted to sleep.
Most of this was originally the second chapter of When You Break, and you'll most likely remember some bits and pieces. There is an important cameo in here, and I'm wondering if anyone will catch it. If you know my works, you know I love backstory. But when I decided to revamp this one in particular, I didn't want to spend too much time on Emma's backstory in the beginning, and instead weave it into the story in later chapters.
Turning this into a third person point of view, from it's original first person point of view was difficult. And I feel like I lost a lot of the flow that I had in the original piece. Trust me when I say that the rest of the story flows so much more naturally after this first chapter.
Returning readers should be familiar with the playlists I include in each chapter. This story is no different. The musical inspiration for this chapter include:
1. Celeste - Ezra Vine
2. Lost In The Light - Bahamas
3. Trust Somebody - Jackie Greene
Reviews are appreciated and encouraged! Thank you for reading.