FICKLE HEART

Fickle My Life

The first three days went smoothly. It was only because I avoided Elon as much as I could. Whenever I hear his footsteps or rumbling of his rough voice, I split into a run and lock myself in the room. I didn't touch my work. For some reason, the need for taking break from work spelled over me. I need a vacation. I desire it. Ironic though.

Anyway as I avoid Elon, I am also keenly aware what he does. He gets up really late like in the middle of the afternoon. He comes home very late. And I think I heard some grunts and moans last night. Bastard failed to mention it.

I was currently sitting on the kitchen island, swinging my legs bag and forth. Eating crescent shaped cuts of apple and peanut butter. I haven't touched my phone either. I just feel a need to cast away my phone, laptop and work and the outside life. Just stay in my shell. Where I am safe and warm. It so lovely. I had my black moleskin notebook out. It's my poetry book. I write in them when I am too full of words that are trapped within me.

Floating in the air tonight.
Feeling like a parasite.

Heaven knows, I am no poet. Having words still pour out of you is another way of exercising. Pull the strings of words you could never tell. The words stomped inside of me, I let them go free into this black moleskin notebook.

I was so caught in figuring out the next line that I didn't interpret someone's quiet as a mouse footfalls break into the kitchen.

Elon stops short when he sees me. His eyes immediately zeroes to my bare legs. I was wearing a dress today. Well, it was more a huge white shirt that falls right above my knees. I don't stop the swinging of my legs.

"Hello Elon. I beginning to think you don't seem to respect my house rules."

He walks further into the kitchen, getting a cold water bottle from the fridge. A brooding frown over his face glints from the overhead lamp. "And I think you don't respect mine either, Keira." Again, my name. He fondles with it like dough. Yet the nerve of this guy! I jump from the seat to stand. "I did everything on your list!"

"There were no eggs." He pointed out as he sipped his water.

"There was a house guest." I pointed back. We can play this game as long as he wants, I wasn't backing this time. We continue to stare at each other. It wasn't a staring contest. It was an assessing contest. Trying to find a way to break into you instead of breaking you. Find out the truth. Expose the lies. That was the game between us.

"Maybe you should get a hotel. It's only for a month anyway." He turns around, taking a pear from the fruit basket.

Suddenly the way he spoke down to me curled my toes. I wanted to smack him. "Maybe you should let your sister stay in place of you."

His shiny green eyes snap back at me. "We don't argue about who stays in my house. We do as we are told by me. Like right now, you need to learn your place."

I give him an incredulous look. "What are you talking about? I have been nothing but the perfect roommate. How dare you berate me like a child!"

His eyes gleamed with some kind of loathness that dropped the pit lower in my stomach. I wonder why he hates me. I mean I know why I hate him. But why does he?

"Then stop acting like one and be an adult and get a hotel room. Only kids have roommates. Not grown ass people!"

I step forward, unable to take the belting this man was giving. "Ignorant and wrong! There so many adults who still look for rooms to rent out despite having to live with other people. It's the way of the world. Not everyone has cash flow all day." I figured it out soon enough when I went for a grocery trip this morning. The Sutherlands are rich. They own probably the town. There were two pubs which were the stars of the show owned by the Sutherlands. The grocery shop I went to- guess who owns it? Sutherland.

Elon paused himself before he took a bite of his pear. Turning to me, he took a menacing step forward and due to his ginormous legs he was right in front of me. My neck cranked to look up at him and it made me feel different kind of vulnerability. My throat exposed to him. I noted my pulse beating fast. I just realized that I was in a conflict.

He still hasn't said a word but his attention is rapt on me. He is figuring me out. The way his head is slightly tilted as he is examining wires of a car.

"I will look for a hotel as soon as possible and get out of your hair." I shake within my feet. "But know this. You can't just get to bully people because it's not right. You are definitely the only  world class asshole I have ever met and I'm sorry for the bed mate who had to endure your condescension."

I leave. My eyes hazy. My fists are clenched so tight that my nails are digging in them. I run straight to my room, locking the door. Then, I dump myself onto my bed. And let sleep take over as I can't control the emotions piling inside me one by one.

Yet it useless. No escape from his smoldering hating eyes. He had worn a simple black t-shirt and black jeans. I can't help but roll my eyes. Only rich people wear the simplest of clothes. God, it's annoying!

My limbs are loose and lethargic. I know I have to find a place to stay but my mind tracks the way we talked. He said this was his house. It means it doesn't belong to Rachel but she loaned it to me as a gesture of a good friend. I bet it made Elon mad. He doesn't like me because I'm sharing his space. I'm in his space. I try to think if I get it. I mean it's not hard not to.

Sure, I share a many number of people's houses for my stays but I always look for a single room with a fucking door that locks their world from mine. I try to minimize how many times I step outside even though it's useless because we end up as friends. I guess it's the first time I am not boding well with my housemate. And I don't like it. Not at all.

So reluctantly, I pull out my laptop from under the covers. I start to search for cheap nearby hotels. Looking at deals and stuff. I was so busy that I didn't look out to see the sun had already set.

A knock came on my door. I wonder if it was Elon. If it was, I don't want to talk to him. However, I hear Rachel's voice through the door. "Keira! Come out! Come out! Wherever you are!"

I had a feeling if I was rooming with my initial roommate, I would still hold the record of having roommates turn into best friends. I sigh and get up, opening the door for her. She whirls inside, her deep blue summer dress twirling around her knees. "We both are going out for drinks! I understand from Anita you are quite the socialite! Dress up and let's go!"

I smile at her enthusiasm but immediately deflate at another sour thought. "Rachel, I have to tell you something. Your brother wants me to look for another place to stay and-"

She cuts me off. "Do not finish that statement. You will not be looking for another place. I am your guarantor."

I argue, "Yeah but Elon told me-"

She interrupts me for the second time. "And I am telling you no! Absolutely not! I like having you here. Now that is over with. Go dress up something fancy and we go in another twenty minutes!" She dashes by me but not before she squeezes my hand in support. "You are staying here, Kiera. That's final."

My hope blossomed at her words. I watch her retreating back. What did I ever do to deserve such a friend? I breathe out a bitter sweet breath. It pained and delighted my chest. I feel unsettle. My sweet spot right there! I change quickly. A gold spaghetti dress that reaches down my ankles. It was simple and sexy. I fix my hair and treat myself to make up. Dark kohl marks the outline of my eyes, a bit of gold bronzer to highlight my cheek bones and invisible glossy lipstick for my lips. Wearing my white short heels, I take my purse. I apply some perfume and check myself in the mirror once more.

I can get it up! I trace my waist, feeling particularly good. I brought this dress so many years ago and I put it on like a armor for battle. It molds into my figure perfectly. It was made for me. This dress. I love the times when we finally get the perfect outfit and you see it was actually stitched and woven just for you. Yeah, this was designed to be on my body especially on days when I felt a bit shitty.

When Rachel hollers my name again, I smirk at my image. Truth be told, the shit has turned to gold. Then, I head out.