Emotional Boys 2000

06

A.N. Here he comes, breaking into your apartment :D

I slam my door shut, ready to take a shower and wash at least a bit of my stress away.

I live on Fifth Avenue, in the Flatiron building. It's expensive as fuck, but I don't mind it.

When I tell people at work about it, they all either give me a jealous expression or a grin accompanied with a "very nice, man" along with a pat on the back.

The apartment has high ceilings, and has a floor to ceiling window, circular, which seen from the outside, is the front of the building.

I have a lot of chestnut wood furniture and dynamic looking couches to supply further credit to the expensive look. My dining table is a large dark glass table that extends ten feet across my dining room.

The sun shinning in through all the large, extravagant windows help to give the place some life. Otherwise it's just a dull display of status.

I drop my Von Baer laptop briefcase onto my kitchen counter, glad that I feel I can breath by myself.

My hands run through my hair that is slightly hard from the gel that typically keeps it slicked back. It gives me a much more professional look, plus my friends all do it too, so I fit in.

I head over to my bathroom, large and complimented with a huge marble shower, accompanied by a large glass door.

I unbutton my suit, simple and black, but worth more than any home that I've ever lived at up until this apartment.

Once naked, I slip inside and start the water, leaning against one of the walls as I prepare for it warm up.

I'm so tired.

Tired of caring about how much my damn suit costs and where I got it from, even though it looks the same as every goddamn suit.

Tired of going to fancy restaurants to get their under-sized, over-priced food.

Tired of getting high for a second to feel "alive".

Tired of remembering the name of every brand of everything just to not look like a moron around other stupid brokers.

Oh well, it pays the bills, I've got a good reputation, most people like me, I'm doing quite fine.

"So if you're lonely... you know I'm here waiting for you..." I start singing Take Me Out softly, my voice uneasy and low.

"I'm just a cross-hair, I'm just a shot away from you" The shampoo suds slide down my next as I massage my scalp, enjoying the comforting warmth of the water. The steam from the heat helps open my sinuses, giving me some physical clarity after the events of this afternoon.

***

My spoon digs into the Nutella, feeling no shame as I bring it to my mouth, licking it clean slowly, enjoying every second of it.

The spoon drops abruptly when the sound of my door being pounded on takes me out of my illusion. I scatter to grab it off the floor, annoying with the small hazelnut mess on my floor.

The door continues to be slammed against as I quickly wipe up the Nutella with a wet paper towel.

"Coming, hold on!" I shout with an aggravated tone, annoyed with the fact that the knocking wouldn't let up.

I head over to the door and without checking the peephole -bad mistake on my part- I swing the door open.

I feel as though I'm still high off my ass as I see Marshall's blue eyes reciprocating my gaze.