esoteric // h.s.

chapter one: new americana

"So, Ella, any plans for Thanksgiving?" Gemma asked. Gemma is my roommate at New York University, where I study art and economics and she studies anthropology. After sharing a cramped dorm room for the past semester, we've become pretty close friends.

"No, I'll probably just stay in the dorms and eat until I vomit at a halal stand. Simple and cheap. Are you even celebrating Thanksgiving? You're British, Thanksgiving is practically an anti-holiday."

"I'm living in America, therefore, I will celebrate all the holidays I want; and no, it's not just because of all of the food. Well, maybe. Anyways, I'm going over to my brother's place for Thanksgiving, so you should come with since you don't have plans."

"I do have plans! I'm eating halal! Those food carts are practically calling my name right now."

"Ella... Come on. Halal is great, but it's no turkey and stuffing."

"Alright, I guess it can't hurt. Does your brother live in New York? And why haven't I met him yet?"

"Yeah, he lives in an apartment in the Upper East Side. His name is Harry. He's pretty busy with his job, so we don't have time to talk a lot. But now you'll meet him!"

"So he's a 'Mr. Moneybags' type, eh?"

"More or less."

---

After a quick ride uptown, we arrived at Harry's apartment building. The building was a giant skyscraper overlooking Central Park.

"I know you said Harry was rich, but I didn't think he was this rich! Now I feel bad because this wine I brought for dinner was only fifteen dollars!"

"Just relax, it'll be fine. And don't take it personally if he's a bit... reserved. He's like that with everybody. Even me."

Gemma pushed the floor 30 button on the elevator and we exited the elevator, entering a penthouse that looked like it was straight out of an IKEA catalog.

A quiet 'damn' escaped from my mouth, and then a man, maybe 23 or 24, dressed in a black suit appeared. He had striking jade eyes and a toned physique. If I didn't know any better, he could be a model for Fashion Week.

"Hello, Gemma. And you are..?"

He glared at me, waiting for a response. Wow, he was intimidating.

"Oh, um, I'm Ella. Gemma's roommate. She said I could come with, but, uh, it looks like you weren't expecting me, so I'll just go, I don't want to inconvenience you." Gemma tugged on me, keeping me from entering the elevator again.

"No, Ella, stay!" Gemma whined. "Harry, I texted you telling you that Ella was coming. But apparently, you didn't see that."

"Fine. Too late now. She can stay," he said.

So Gemma really was accurate when she said he was reserved.

"Really, if it's a problem, I'll go," I insisted, remembering my original plan of halal and Netflix marathons.

"Nonsense. Now sit down and make yourself at home," Gemma said.

"Gemma, this is my apartment, you can't say, 'make yourself at home'. This isn't even your home," Harry argued.

"Ah, put a sock in it."

I awkwardly stood there, wishing there was a dog that I could pet amidst the tension in the room. What else was I supposed to do? Sitting down on the black sofa, I got myself ready for what was going to be a long night.

---

"So, Gemma, how are your courses?" Harry asked. We were now sitting at the dining room table, eating the meal.