Torneró

25

Sylvie's POV:

As soon as I get back to my apartment, I begin rummaging through my closet, tossing articles of clothing into my brown Luis Vuitton suitcase while blasting music and tidying the place up. My father is coming to pick me up tomorrow morning at 7. Yes, 7.

Anybody who wakes up willingly before 10 should check into a mental hospital.

Once I'm pleased with my volcano of clothes inside the rectangular, four sided case, I zip it up and struggle to pull the suitcase off my bed. Placing it in the corner of my room on it's wheels. I turn around and begin to strip, starting with my hoodie, I lift it over my head and toss it on the floor, I'll pick it up later.  

I walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind me as I brush through my hair in the large mirror before tying it up in a bun on top of my head. I turn the shower on and step inside, letting the warm water drown away all my breakup grief. 

Tomorrow, I will walk out as a new person.

***

After my full night of decent sleep, my alarm has to ruin everything. It rings at 5:30 in the morning, giving me just enough time to throw on my 'bad bitch' persona before leaving for France. 

I groan, knocking my phone off the white bedside table with my hand. It falls off the edge, slamming against the ground flat on its screen. I lean down, lifting my phone up with my left hand as my eyes remain cloudy with sleep. To my luck, the screen is obviously broken. I avoid mourning over it and lift myself off the bed, standing on the ground. 

Whatever, it'll just add more to the 'bad bitch' vibe.

I head towards the bathroom where I wash my face and brush my teeth and hair. I pat my face dry with a white towel and walk out through the door, into my closet. 

After what feels like hours of shuffling through hangers of clothes, I finally find the perfect outfit. It was actually a couple minutes but bad bitches don't count time, apparently. 

It's a satin, jewel green mini skirt which wraps around my body and a matching deep v-neck blouse that ties up with a pair of thigh high heeled boots. I straighten my hair and apply dark makeup, obviously styling the outfit with a pair of hoops.

I finish just in time before I hear the stern knocking on my front door, I travel toward it and open the door. "Enzo?" I'm taken by surprise as I open the door to recognise those deep brown eyes and blonde hair that seemingly gets more golden every time I see him. 

"I told you we'd be seeing a lot more of each other" he smirks, pushing his body which was leaning against the door frame away using his forearms and stepping past me, into my apartment. "Where's your suitcase?" he asks me, turning his head around to maintain eye contact with me, "in my room" I respond. "Where is yo-", he cuts himself off mid-way through the sentence, "Nevermind, I've been here before", he winks at me before turning back around walking into the correct room, my room. 

Seconds later, he exits through the door carrying the leather suitcase in one hand as if it weighed nothing. "You coming?" he questions as he walks past me, stopping by the door while staring at me. I stand like a motherfucking brick in the middle of my apartment.

"Uh- Yeah, one second" I stutter, finally managing to find it in myself to turn around and grab my black hand bag. I approach him, walking past him through the door as he shuts it behind me with his free hand. 

"How do you know my dad?" I ask him as we stand by the elevator doors. "You have a dad?" he questions sarcastically, I simply glare at him until he finally responds maturely. "I work for him" he responds, dully and in a monotone voice. "Right" I mumble to myself as the elevator doors open, revealing the spacious area to us.