Special thanks to my friends at Croft Manor for beta-reading this for me and another thanks to Max (Reasons Lost) for beta-reading this for me.
All feedback appreciated!
Edited 1/2/23. Edit notes at the end of the chapter.
No matter how many times Sam tried to tell herself things could be worse, she just didn't feel that way. There was a point in time where she'd been excited to go to college, but that was all before she had broken up with Jess. She sighed as she flipped through the photos on her smartphone; photos of her and the brunette at the Firefly Festival, exploring New York City, enjoying a quiet night together on the couch with some popcorn and a movie… Then she hit the delete button on every single photo, reminding herself that keeping them would only make her feel worse. When she had finished purging her library of the painful memories, she locked her phone and turned her head to look out the window at the fluffy clouds surrounding her plane.
Despite her best efforts to keep herself distracted, her thoughts inevitably returned to Jess. They had dated for an entire year before breaking up-it was the longest relationship Sam ever had. Unfortunately, having an entire ocean between them for the next four years had a way of complicating matters. While Jess had decided to stay back home and study at Temple University, Sam had accepted her admission to University College London. A week before Sam's scheduled departure, they mutually decided they should end their relationship on good terms sooner rather than have their feelings turn sour later. Not that doing so made the break-up less painful. The pilot's voice came through the intercom and interrupted her thoughts before she could further dwell on them.
"Attention passengers, we are preparing for landing at this time so please stow away any electronics, put your trays up, and return your seats to the upright position. Thank you." Sam sighed once more, pocketed her phone, and returned to her window-gazing while the plane slowly began descending.
Half an hour later, she exited the plane and made her way through the jet bridge to the airport. Switching her phone's airplane mode off, she checked her messages to see if Jess had texted her during her flight before the realization that they were no longer together came crashing back into her with the force of a freight train. Shaking her head dejectedly as she quickly closed out her messages, she instead pulled up her keypad and dialed her father's number. Several rings later, his Japanese voicemail greeted her through the speaker.
"This is Hisao Nishimura, if this is important business leave a message after the tone." Sam scowled as the same voicemail played in English.
"Hi dad," she began after the beep, "just your daughter calling to let you know she landed safely. Call me if you have the time." She tapped the end button and dialed her mother's number next, following the signs to baggage claim as she waited for an answer.
"Samantha!" came her mother's greeting.
"Hi mom," Sam said in her most cheerful voice, "I just landed in London and I'm going to baggage claim now."
"Glad to hear it! Listen honey, I'm in the middle of work right now so can you call me back when I'm off?" Sam's stomach sank.
"That's…" her voice trailed off. By the time her mom got off work it would be past midnight in London, and Sam would more than likely be asleep, "yeah, sure...okay," was what she settled on. If her mom couldn't remember that she was in a time zone five hours ahead of home, she wasn't going to remember to answer later. Sam knew her well enough to know that. After exchanging a quick goodbye, she hung up and phoned the cab company while stopping in front of a conveyor belt in baggage claim.
"London Taxi Company," came a man's cockney brogue, "how may I help you?"
"Hi, I need a cab from London Heathrow to Connaught Hall on Tavistock Square," Sam said as a red light flashed above the conveyor belt.
"What terminal?" the man asked.
"Five," Sam responded, watching the bags start to cycle through on the conveyor belt closely in case hers came out.
"Alright, we have a driver in the area who will be there to pick you up shortly."
"Thank you," Sam responded, hanging up just as she spotted her black suitcase with a Cassie Hack sticker by the handle on the conveyor. She retrieved her luggage and went outside to wait for her cab. Ten minutes later, she saw one pull up and went to the driver's window.
"Heathrow to Tavistock Square?" the driver, a man in his thirties, asked her. She nodded, and he got out of the car.
"Thanks," she said when he loaded her bags into the trunk for her, after which they both entered the vehicle and were on their way. As they drove, Sam leaned back in her seat and began scrolling through her Facebook feed on her phone. When she saw pictures Jess had uploaded from Temple, she quickly closed the app and pocketed her phone a bit more roughly than usual. Her eyes drifted downward and she let out a small breath before contenting herself with looking out the window for entertainment.
"Judging by your accent, you're American. Where you from, miss?" the man asked. Sam gratefully snagged the opportunity to distract herself from her misery.
"I've lived all over but my family currently lives in New York City. We've lived there for about two years now." In the past she'd lived in Chicago, Miami, And Los Angeles-any place her mom could find modeling work, they went there. Her dad could conduct his business no matter where they went so the constant traveling was a non-issue. Of the three cities they lived in, Chicago had been Sam's least favorite; the winters were too harsh, and her depression ran rampant. Her family had lived there prior to coming to New York City.
"Really? Nice city, I've been there a few times. I got to see Wicked on Broadway once," the man merged onto a highway while he spoke.
"I've never actually had a chance to see a Broadway show myself," Sam said, watching farmlands and towns alike drift by.
"That's a right shame...well worth it in my opinion," he slowed down to let a car get in the lane in front of him, "So what brings you to London? Ever been?"
"No, actually," Sam turned her head to face the man through the rearview mirror, "this is my first time in England, I'm here to study at UCL. Ever heard of it?"
"Absolutely, it's a damn good school. What are you planning to study?" Sam smiled slightly.
"Film. I wanna be a director someday, you see."
"That right? Why pick UCL then if you don't mind me asking?" Sam pursed her lips and quickly thought of a reply.
"Like you said, it's a good school." In truth, she had chosen England for distance. How did Sam put it? Her family situation was complicated. It goes like this: her parents were the kind of people to see their children as heirs or offspring, not as their children–little humans that they had to nurture rather than simply raise. Hardly a good environment for a child to thrive in. Her father was convinced that she would grow up to take over his company, Nishimura Corporation: a multinational mass media conglomerate founded in Japan but presently based out of New York City.
Now, Sam was considered 'gifted' in school but she wasn't 'STEM gifted,' if you caught her drift. She was the kind of 'gifted' student who preferred the company of a guitar and a blunt. Math and economics were not her strong suit; there was no way she'd be able to survive as a business major. She had tried explaining this to her father in the past, that she just wanted to make movies and art, but he always refused to entertain other ideas.
Hisao Nishimura, everyone. Father of the year.
So, she applied to the UCL School of Management to appease him, but predetermined once she got to campus she'd switch to the Slade School of Fine Art. She felt dirty lying to her father to use her trust money, but pursuing her passion was a much better alternative to a life of misery. The ends justify the means, right?
"Fair enough. Anything you want to focus on in particular with that degree?"
"I'm planning to specialize in documentary filmmaking and cinematography, actually. I like travelling and I always enjoyed seeing the different historical sites."
"Well, we've got plenty of those here in England I can tell you that much. Historical sites, I mean," the man got on an exit before continuing, "I'm only asking these questions because my friend's father is actually a professor in the Slade School." Sam couldn't stop her jaw from dropping.
"Really?" Talk about coincidence, she thought.
"Dead serious, he teaches a film editing course that receives generally positive feedback." Sam took a moment to think back on what courses she had registered for.
"I think I might have actually signed up for that course but I'm not sure..."
"You should sign up if you haven't already. I wasn't kidding about the feedback; people really enjoy the course." Sam smiled.
"I'll keep that in mind when I have the time to check my schedule tonight. Thanks!"
"Anytime...well, here we are, Tavistock Square. Connaught Hall is directly across the street." He got out to retrieve Sam's bags from the trunk. Once she had her bags, she paid him and gave him a generous tip. When the taxi drove away, she took a deep breath and crossed the street with her bags rolling behind her. When she entered the lobby, she saw a desk with several staff members on the other side and approached one of them.
"Hi! Sam Nishimura?" the woman scrutinized her with narrow eyes while fumbling around for her glasses.
"You wouldn't happen to be the same Nishimura as-?" Sam scratched the back of her neck and shifted her feet uncomfortably.
"Yup…that's my dad…" the woman only nodded in response and flipped through her logbook once she had her glasses on.
"Okay Ms. Nishimura, you're in room two hundred and four. It looks like your roommate already checked in. If you could just sign here..." she pointed at a dotted line below where her presumed roommate had already signed, "...I'll get your key from the cabinet." While Sam signed into the book, the woman went through a filing cabinet behind her and had Sam's key ready by the time she had finished. "Let us know if anything is damaged or out of place." Sam thanked her, and one elevator ride and short walk later, she was in front of room two hundred and four. She opened the door with her key and found that her roommate had, in fact, checked in but apparently not had the time to unpack.
Not that there's much to unpack… she noted. Her roommate had to either be less fortunate or an international student like herself. Sam supposed she'd just have to wait and find out later on when they returned and began unpacking. At some point, she'd have to pick up bedding, decorations, and other essentials as well. After all, London was going to be her home for the next three to four years. She might as well make it feel like it.
Edit notes: Edited backstory about why Sam chose to attend UCL.
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