"Whoever invented heeled shoes should be strangled." She smirked and
thought ruefully. It had been a long hike from the parking garage, through
the lobby, up the elevator, down the hallway, and now to her apartment. It
seemed to get further and further away everyday. Her arms were overloaded
between her black briefcase slung over her shoulder, the groceries
balancing on her hip, the mail clutched tightly in her hands and her keys
in the other. After much ado, the Bristow shellacked door opened to her
cozy apartment. Without even second guessing it, she knew it was going to
be depressingly empty. But it honestly didn't matter anymore. She had
become accustomed to walking in without having someone to greet her with
the exception of Shiva Darshan, the black cat he bought her a few years
ago. Shiva was named for the Indian Hindu God that brings suffering and
joys to the world. Nevertheless, the door was pushed open and the smell of
ginger and honeysuckles flooded her sense. She managed to reach out from
her parcels and groped around for the light switch. Thankfully, she found
it quickly and managed to turn it on, shedding a sweet yellow light through
the hallway and flooding the rest of the apartment. The smirk on her lips
grew less sarcastic and into a genuine one. This was her Mecca. She was
home. The black ball uncurled itself from its corner and rubbed against her
stocking covered legs affectionately.
Sydney cast her honey brown eyes down to the exposed wood floors and greeted her with a warming smile. "Hey kitty-cat." She would have normally bent down to meet the mysterious black cat with the shadowy yellow eyes but Shiva's owner was just carrying too many things to do so.
Completely exhausted, she made her way to the nearest spot to put her packages down. She threw her keys in a nearby ceramic dish with a loud clanking noise. The mail, piled high with junk mails and useless catalogs, went next to the antique dish on the terracotta-like table. The groceries and the rest of her bulky items were placed on the dining room mahogany table. A deep aggravated sigh fluttered over her painted peach lips. Everything tired her now. Her job was boring, her clothes were insanely dull, and her social life had come to a complete standstill. Where was the excitement that she craved for so much of her life? She honestly knew the answer but refused, adamantly refused to believe it. She padded through her apartment until she was standing directly center in her living room but not without shedding uncomfortable layer that confined her body during so much of the day. The black stiletto heels, the bulky silver jewelry, and the black pressed coat were all tossed in various places throughout her apartment on her journey towards the first stop of relaxation. The mail was promptly retrieved from its resting area and haphazardly she began to leaf through it, she hit PLAY on her answering machine. The flashing green light was obnoxious.
"Hello. You have four new messages." The mechanic voice recited.
"Whoopee." Sydney replied, completely uninterested. Her eyes focused on the white envelopes that had her name printed on each one.
"Hello Ms. Bristow. Are you happy with your telephone service? Perhaps it's time for change. "the telemarketer began.
"Don't care!" Sydney replied tossing a piece of junk mail into the black Asian inspired garbage can. She leaned over towards her black base phone and hit one of the four black glossy buttons with white writing that fell indifferent under carefully manicured index finger.
"Message erased." The recorded voice said and quickly followed with, "Next new message."
A steel Bristow voice spoke next, "Hello Sydney. It's me."
"Hi dad." Sydney opened a serious looking envelope that turned out to be her electric bill. Another bill to pay; wonderful.
"I was calling to tell you I won't be able to make dinner tonight. I'm sorry." Dial tone.
Sydney puckered her lips slightly in disappointment. She and her father did not have the best relationship in the world but she did look forward to their weekly dinners. But what was so important that he had to cancel? He worked for a computer company-it's not like he was out saving the world or anything. She sighed again and shrugged her shoulders. It was typical Jack Bristow. He was notorious for letting his family take the backseat to his career. It was just a way of life that dear old Dad didn't come to ballet recitals or school concerts. Bending over again, she hit erase.
"Message erased. Next new message."
"Hey Aunt Sydney. It's me, Joey-"the bright voice of an eight year old brought a sunshine like effect into the room full of clean crisp Oriental inspired living room.
"And Sophia." The four year old giggled loudly.
"And Sophia-we're just calling to say thank you for the birthday cards. We love you." Her nephew droned on through the well rehearsed message.
"Thank you!" declared her niece, who refused to be upstaged by her brother.
"You're welcome." Sydney said smiling at her two young family members. The grin remained on her lips for a moment as her thoughts lingered on her blonde curly hair niece and the brown hair nephew that loved playing outside and being with their only 'aunt.' They were Will's children.
But all good things must come to an end. "Messaged erased. Next new message." The recorded voice was getting really old really fast. She rolled in eyes part out of boredom and part out of annoyance. She honestly didn't know how she got into such a foul mood. Nothing could bring her out of this.
"Hi Syd. It's uh, it's me. I-uh-know-it's..um-it's been a long time but." the familiar voice trailed off.
The mail plunged out of her hand and landed near her feet as the shock of his voice filled her apartment set in, "Vaughn?" Her voice was quaking as much as her body. His voice was that last thing that she ever anticipated to hear on the machine.
"But." the voice started again, "I'm in LA for a week and I wanted to see you. I still have the same cell phone number and if you uh-want to ya know, get together and maybe uh do something..I would really like that. Listen Syd, I know it's been a while but I really want to see you again. I miss you. I miss us. I know I shouldn't been admitting this to your answering machine. For all I know you have a boyfriend or your married or you don't even live at this apartment. But if you're still here, I really want to see you again. I need to see you again. I know you were mad at me but hopefully you're not still too mad at me. Please Syd, do it for us. Please Syd. I still-"
"End of Message." The recorded voice cut off the musical tones of her ex-boyfriend.
Sydney stood there, the mail having completely fallen to her feet and her mouth dropped open. Her body was completely immobile due to the emotions flooding her mind. She honestly didn't know whether to throw the answering machine out of the window out of rage or break down and cry or call him back. Geez. That last part was the more difficult part of the equation. Throwing things out of high rise buildings was not intelligent. Crying was not an option due to too much eye make-up. Definitely not worth it. But calling him back was either an option or a death wish. There was so much history between them that it was difficult to see with a clear and level head.
He had taken a job out East and left her alone with only a cat for company. They were going to be engaged or at least she was expecting it. She was absolutely in love with him and in a little over ten days, he had packed up his things from their apartment and moved away. They had fought before he left and she swore she could cut him out of her life; he agreed. But as the days and weeks began to roll along, letters, e-mails, faxes, pages, calls and any other means of communication began to arrive in front of her. It was him begging her to take him back. She was so furious at him for taking his career over his girlfriend that she refused to make any contact with him. She wouldn't let the emerald eyes back into her life. He left her alone and jaded.
Sydney had honestly thought she had found her soul mate. She loved him so much and he just picked up and left. The worst part of this was that a mutual friend had told her that he had moved on and found someone else. This was a blow to the belt. She was ready to make things up or do something..honestly, she didn't know what. She locked herself away from the world out after that for about three weeks. Her body shut down and she stayed home alone every night, sitting out on her porch drinking a mixture of cheap wine and salty tears. All of her relationships became severed and it got to the point that she didn't care anymore. Her world became robotic; wake up, go to work, come home, sleep and repeat. She threw herself into her corporate world, showering herself in black clothes as a way of grieving over her lost love. Somehow, she snapped out of it. Maybe she ran out of tears or wine or bubble bath. But something allowed her to get over him. This realization had only come a month or so ago and now, he wanted back into her life. She wasn't sure if she was ready to do that.
A drama queen to the core, she knelt down before her answering machine like a pilgrim before a holy shrine and hit button. She quickly recoiled her hands to her lap and watched the machine with the most interest her eyes had flickered all day as she waited to hear the mechanic voice one more time.
"Message saved."
Sydney cast her honey brown eyes down to the exposed wood floors and greeted her with a warming smile. "Hey kitty-cat." She would have normally bent down to meet the mysterious black cat with the shadowy yellow eyes but Shiva's owner was just carrying too many things to do so.
Completely exhausted, she made her way to the nearest spot to put her packages down. She threw her keys in a nearby ceramic dish with a loud clanking noise. The mail, piled high with junk mails and useless catalogs, went next to the antique dish on the terracotta-like table. The groceries and the rest of her bulky items were placed on the dining room mahogany table. A deep aggravated sigh fluttered over her painted peach lips. Everything tired her now. Her job was boring, her clothes were insanely dull, and her social life had come to a complete standstill. Where was the excitement that she craved for so much of her life? She honestly knew the answer but refused, adamantly refused to believe it. She padded through her apartment until she was standing directly center in her living room but not without shedding uncomfortable layer that confined her body during so much of the day. The black stiletto heels, the bulky silver jewelry, and the black pressed coat were all tossed in various places throughout her apartment on her journey towards the first stop of relaxation. The mail was promptly retrieved from its resting area and haphazardly she began to leaf through it, she hit PLAY on her answering machine. The flashing green light was obnoxious.
"Hello. You have four new messages." The mechanic voice recited.
"Whoopee." Sydney replied, completely uninterested. Her eyes focused on the white envelopes that had her name printed on each one.
"Hello Ms. Bristow. Are you happy with your telephone service? Perhaps it's time for change. "the telemarketer began.
"Don't care!" Sydney replied tossing a piece of junk mail into the black Asian inspired garbage can. She leaned over towards her black base phone and hit one of the four black glossy buttons with white writing that fell indifferent under carefully manicured index finger.
"Message erased." The recorded voice said and quickly followed with, "Next new message."
A steel Bristow voice spoke next, "Hello Sydney. It's me."
"Hi dad." Sydney opened a serious looking envelope that turned out to be her electric bill. Another bill to pay; wonderful.
"I was calling to tell you I won't be able to make dinner tonight. I'm sorry." Dial tone.
Sydney puckered her lips slightly in disappointment. She and her father did not have the best relationship in the world but she did look forward to their weekly dinners. But what was so important that he had to cancel? He worked for a computer company-it's not like he was out saving the world or anything. She sighed again and shrugged her shoulders. It was typical Jack Bristow. He was notorious for letting his family take the backseat to his career. It was just a way of life that dear old Dad didn't come to ballet recitals or school concerts. Bending over again, she hit erase.
"Message erased. Next new message."
"Hey Aunt Sydney. It's me, Joey-"the bright voice of an eight year old brought a sunshine like effect into the room full of clean crisp Oriental inspired living room.
"And Sophia." The four year old giggled loudly.
"And Sophia-we're just calling to say thank you for the birthday cards. We love you." Her nephew droned on through the well rehearsed message.
"Thank you!" declared her niece, who refused to be upstaged by her brother.
"You're welcome." Sydney said smiling at her two young family members. The grin remained on her lips for a moment as her thoughts lingered on her blonde curly hair niece and the brown hair nephew that loved playing outside and being with their only 'aunt.' They were Will's children.
But all good things must come to an end. "Messaged erased. Next new message." The recorded voice was getting really old really fast. She rolled in eyes part out of boredom and part out of annoyance. She honestly didn't know how she got into such a foul mood. Nothing could bring her out of this.
"Hi Syd. It's uh, it's me. I-uh-know-it's..um-it's been a long time but." the familiar voice trailed off.
The mail plunged out of her hand and landed near her feet as the shock of his voice filled her apartment set in, "Vaughn?" Her voice was quaking as much as her body. His voice was that last thing that she ever anticipated to hear on the machine.
"But." the voice started again, "I'm in LA for a week and I wanted to see you. I still have the same cell phone number and if you uh-want to ya know, get together and maybe uh do something..I would really like that. Listen Syd, I know it's been a while but I really want to see you again. I miss you. I miss us. I know I shouldn't been admitting this to your answering machine. For all I know you have a boyfriend or your married or you don't even live at this apartment. But if you're still here, I really want to see you again. I need to see you again. I know you were mad at me but hopefully you're not still too mad at me. Please Syd, do it for us. Please Syd. I still-"
"End of Message." The recorded voice cut off the musical tones of her ex-boyfriend.
Sydney stood there, the mail having completely fallen to her feet and her mouth dropped open. Her body was completely immobile due to the emotions flooding her mind. She honestly didn't know whether to throw the answering machine out of the window out of rage or break down and cry or call him back. Geez. That last part was the more difficult part of the equation. Throwing things out of high rise buildings was not intelligent. Crying was not an option due to too much eye make-up. Definitely not worth it. But calling him back was either an option or a death wish. There was so much history between them that it was difficult to see with a clear and level head.
He had taken a job out East and left her alone with only a cat for company. They were going to be engaged or at least she was expecting it. She was absolutely in love with him and in a little over ten days, he had packed up his things from their apartment and moved away. They had fought before he left and she swore she could cut him out of her life; he agreed. But as the days and weeks began to roll along, letters, e-mails, faxes, pages, calls and any other means of communication began to arrive in front of her. It was him begging her to take him back. She was so furious at him for taking his career over his girlfriend that she refused to make any contact with him. She wouldn't let the emerald eyes back into her life. He left her alone and jaded.
Sydney had honestly thought she had found her soul mate. She loved him so much and he just picked up and left. The worst part of this was that a mutual friend had told her that he had moved on and found someone else. This was a blow to the belt. She was ready to make things up or do something..honestly, she didn't know what. She locked herself away from the world out after that for about three weeks. Her body shut down and she stayed home alone every night, sitting out on her porch drinking a mixture of cheap wine and salty tears. All of her relationships became severed and it got to the point that she didn't care anymore. Her world became robotic; wake up, go to work, come home, sleep and repeat. She threw herself into her corporate world, showering herself in black clothes as a way of grieving over her lost love. Somehow, she snapped out of it. Maybe she ran out of tears or wine or bubble bath. But something allowed her to get over him. This realization had only come a month or so ago and now, he wanted back into her life. She wasn't sure if she was ready to do that.
A drama queen to the core, she knelt down before her answering machine like a pilgrim before a holy shrine and hit button. She quickly recoiled her hands to her lap and watched the machine with the most interest her eyes had flickered all day as she waited to hear the mechanic voice one more time.
"Message saved."