I keep having new inspiration and my last story felt like a dead end so here is a new story for you all (sorry for being so erratic). *EDITED*
CHAPTER 1
The sun peeped though the river that ran between Jemima's curtains, yellow light flooded through and swallowed the room whole. It reflected off of the small (and rather tacky) chandelier hanging from the ceiling, bounced through her eyes and danced about her mind which was clear and blank as it usually was so early in the morning. The cascading patterns dripped lazily down the wallpaper and melted away before they could splash onto the oak floorboards. Jemima reached up, one arm after the other, and stretched them out above her head until the light nibbled at her fingertips. The air was warm and bright and she could feel energy racing round the four walls. She kicked off the duvet, which seemed to have entangled its way around her torso and upper thighs, and stumbled towards the window to let the light through properly. Suddenly she was drowning in sunlight, making the air seem fuller and thicker somehow and once her eyes had adjusted to the dawn, she could make out the shapes and colours of the city that spanned before her.
The sunrise in London was either beautiful or non existent. On almost-summer days like these, the sun would glow against the buildings and streets and the large town would somehow seem bustling and she would not feel so very small and unimportant to the world. Sunlight made her feel like anything was possible, which was probably very lame and she'd obviously never say it out loud. But still, she was allowed to think it. Her room was so high up in the apartment building in which she lived (and payed an extortionate amount of rent for) that she could see the different towers' silhouettes that would loom over the metropolis. However, British weather is very rarely this friendly, and the mornings would usually begin with grey skies, drizzle and the desire to be back in bed. Jemima opened the window and various sounds of life streamed in - laughter, horns honking, construction workers doing their very best to wake up the whole neighbourhood and a very loud bus driver telling a cyclist to "get the hell out the way, arsehole!"
"Jem, get up, I made tea!" Etcetera called from the living room and Jemima smiled to herself at her friends brashness, slipping a jumper on and making her way out of her room.
Their small living room was very quaint and inviting, with pictures of Jemima and all her friends and family hanging on the teal coloured walls, a chipped old white coffee table perched in between two large dilapidated brown leather sofa's that Etcetera had found at some market last year, and countless knick knacks that were placed upon every free surface there was. The girls had a talent of collecting cute little figurines or snow globes to decorate their little apartment. Etcetera stood behind the kitchen counter that technically served as part of the living room, but the place was so cramped that everything was kind of smashed together into one place. You could wash the dishes whilst still watching TV.
"Thanks, babe." Jemima winked at Cettie as she was handed her favourite mug. Cettie cringed.
"God. You know how much I hate it when you call me that, right?" She groaned and turned back to making her breakfast of various fruits and vegetables.
"Yes, I do. And that's the exact reason I call you it, my dear." She settled down into the worn out leather sofa and traced her fingers gently over the red and gold swirls that were painted onto the white mug.
Cettie, the louder of Jemima's roommates, had blonde frizzy hair which was tied up in a knot on top of her head, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and she was clad in her usual neon, revealing sports gear. Her small hands worked the knife carefully, while she stuck her tongue out slightly in concentration. Cettie was an early riser and a health fanatic - she gave Jemima non-stop lectures about healthy eating and the values of exercise which she gladly sat through but disregarded as soon as she saw a pizza. As long as Jemima had known her, she had been a very full on person - it was always all or nothing with Cettie, who had been through as many phases as one person possibly could. Not all of them had been good phases but now she was happier, had more energy... and killer abs. She said that crunches were her one true love. It was much better than her experimentation with excessive amounts of cheap Chardonnay that she bought in bulk from the Tesco Express down the road. Jemima felt that her friend needed to have her mind engaged by something in order to function. It was either that or she'd just explode or something.
"Vic already left?" Jemima gulped the tea down like it was the cure for cancer and crossed her legs in front of her.
Victoria, their other room mate would usually groggily wake before them both, still half asleep, in order to get to the ballet school in which she worked as an assistant teacher, disciplining children in the art of dance. She was pretty sure Victoria loved kids before she started working there but now she would get home after a long day at the studio and tell Jemima and Cettie about how snotty and whiny they all were. She would have quit by now had it not been for the fact she was allowed to practise her dancing in the studio's when they weren't being used - and it paid very well. Jemima felt as if both her friends had found their purpose and she was pretty pissed that she was yet to.
"Yep, left about half an hour ago, talking about some recital that the kids were doing - I don't know." Cettie sighed, cutting up a banana, her lisp noticeable as ever.
"Yeah, I usually start to tune out when she hits a certain level of stress," Jemima took a sip of her tea. "Only when her eyes go all wide and she gnaws at her lips do I start to actually respond in fear of her brain imploding."
"Bless her heart." The two girls chimed together.
Cettie giggled, popping a piece of watermelon in her mouth. "Do you have class today?"
"Yeah. Starts in like an hour so I should really get up but I don't feel like I'm emotionally ready yet." Jemima sighed.
Jemima had a love-hate relationship with her current degree in musical theatre at university, in which her classes took up the majority of her time. Ever since she was little she had loved performing, craving the spotlight and a chance to show off to literally whoever was there at the time to watch. Ever since she had first seen her parent's DVD of West Side Story and had earned the role of Annie in Annie at age 6, all she had wanted to do was sing and dance and soak up applause from an audience completely in awe of her. She was aware her aspirations were a little self indulgent, but it's not like she had ever admitted it out loud to anyone. If anything, she was overly-humble about the whole thing. It was her goal in life to remain very nonchalant about things whilst also being amazing at them. She had yet to master that last part.
"Come on, lazy." Cettie put her hands on her hips. "Don't make me come over there."
Jemima held her hands up in surrender, her mug still in one hand. "I'm going, I'm going!" She stood slowly, her short legs peeling away from the harsh leather sofa when there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it, you go shower." Cettie pointed accusingly at Jemima before wiping her hands on a dish towel. She bounded over to the door of their small flat and opened it.
Two tall young men stood before them. "Oh hi there." The man speaking had dark brown hair that was long enough to tuck behind his ears a lot and a friendly face, his American accent was thick and made him seem exotic to Jemima who had never left London in her life. He was noticeably tall but his looming figure wasn't intimidating. He glanced between the two before settling his gaze on Jemima, his eyes softening slightly. "Um, yeah. I'm Munkustrap. Sorry for calling in so early, but we've just moved in down the hall and wanted to, uh, say hello, I guess." The other man cleared his throat slightly. His hair was a golden blonde which looked shocking against his tanned skin and he stood just behind Munkustrap, giving a toothy grin (which was once again a shocking white in contrast). He was just as large but he stood with his hip cocked out to the side in a confident, nonchalant manner. "Oh, right. This is Rum Tum Tugger."
"But you can call me Tugger." The blonde took Cettie's hand who was still stood by the door and kissed it, smiling flirtatiously between glances at her bare midriff. Jemima stifled a laugh. The two men averted their gazes to her and she suddenly became very aware of the mickey mouse pyjama shorts she was wearing.
"I picked the right day to wear these." She laughed nervously, picking at the cotton material as she walked towards them, tea still in hand. Jemima figured that the only way to not seem embarrassed was by not being embarrassed. She was very used to making a joke out of herself in everyday situations that it was just second nature to her now. "Hey, I'm Jemima. This is Etcetera." She smiled, pointing to her friend.
"Cettie." She corrected, stretching out her hand for the men to shake. "You actually just missed our other room mate, Victoria." They looked only a few years older than Cettie and herself, but they had a certain maturity about them. Probably because they were so much taller than the two girls - even than Cettie, who would usually hover 3 or 4 inches above her. Jemima held the gaze of Munkustrap for a second longer than was usually accepted in formal situations, and she saw him blush slightly and look away. She couldn't help but notice his deep brown eyes had slight bags underneath them. This didn't, however, take away any of his beauty - the man had a well sculpted face.
"Ah, well... I'm sure we'll bump into her soon enough." Munkustrap laughed nervously. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Yale sweatshirt and looked at the door frame like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.
"I like your accent. Where abouts in America are you from?" Jemima could tell he was nervous. His ability of making conversation was abysmal and his friend was too busy winking at Cettie to notice the silence.
"Cincinnati. It's in Ohio." He cocked his head to the side.
"Oh right, yeah. Cincinnati. Sure." Jemima bluffed.
"You've never heard of it have you?" Munkustrap smiled.
"Nope." She laughed, glancing at Cettie who was waggling her eyebrows suggestively at her. She ignored her attempts to be annoying. "So are you new to the area?"
"No actually, we lived about 10 minutes away until recently but our apartment block is getting knocked down so we had to move out."
"That place was a dump." Tugger chimed in. "No wonder they're destroying it, was probably built in the 1800's."
"Bit of an exaggeration but that's kind of true. There was a lot of mould... I don't wanna talk about it." He shuddered and Tugger grimaced.
"Sounds lovely." Cettie deadpanned. She was tapping her feet incessantly and Jemima could get she was getting restless.
"Anyway. Yawn." Tugger nudged Munkustrap in the ribs. "I wanna know about this pretty blonde here." He winked at Cettie as he leaned into the door frame to get closer to her. She giggled but Jemima noticed that she took a little shift backwards.
Munkustrap, also sensing Cettie's discomfort, cleared his throat and took hold of Tugger by the shoulder. "Well, we have a lot to unpack, don't we Tugger? It was lovely meeting you both." He jerked his head in the direction of their apartment and the blonde sighed.
Tugger winked at the two girls. "I hope to see you very soon." Munkustrap smacked him on the arm with a scowl, and the blonde held his hands up in mock surrender, laughing.
"It was nice meeting you, let us know if you need anything!" Jemima called after them. Munkustrap threw one last smile over his shoulder.
As soon as the boys had walked down the narrow hallway to their own apartment and the door was closed, Cettie started gushing.
"Oh my GOD, did you see the way he was looking at you?!" Cettie was always one for the dramatics.
"The way he was looking at me? Cettie, were we talking to the same people? The blonde one was literally having eye sex with you and you looked like you were going to throw up at any second."
"I don't know, I thought he was quite good looking." Cettie shrugged, returning to her fruit station. "Plus I like knowing I'm appreciated."
"You were literally shuffling away from him bit by bit every time he started to flirt with you."
"Don't try and change the subject!" Cettie clamored, her arm outstretched towards Jemima, her hand this time wielding a knife. "You can't get out of this that easily!"
"Why are you getting so caught up in this? And put that knife down." Jemima moaned.
"Because you're my little Jemi. Plus he was hot." Cettie said and Jemima rolled her eyes. "And you deserve someone new after you-know-who."
"I thought we promised not to talk about that."
"Sorry."
Jemima scoffed. "I was just trying to make conversation. And anyway, he wasn't interested, I mean I'm literally standing here in my pyjamas! I look like a child."
"He likes you!" Cettie winked.
"Can I go and shower now please?" Jemima pleaded.
"Alright, I'll allow it." Cettie declared. "Have fun."
"Oh, I will." Jemima slunk away to the bathroom where she tried to clear her mind of what Cettie had said. He didn't like her. He had just met her. He didn't like her. He didn't like her. He didn't...