PART 2:
August, 2018
"Anjali! Wake up or you'll be late!" ma's voice rings through the room.
I wake up with a start.
Drat.
I don't need to look at the clock to know I am already late.
I check anyway.
And my heart threatens to leap out of my chest.
It's 7:45am.
I'm supposed to meet Lana at 8:20.
I throw back my blanket, only to pull it over me again as a cold chill spreads over my bare legs.
I don't understand how despite being August, still a summer month in London, it's already getting so cold.
I despise this type of weather because I'm bound to get sick.
It's neither cold nor hot, get my point?
At this point, the weather is more indecisive than I am.
I groan as I shuffle out of the bed and groan again as I hit the ground, tripping over something on my bedroom floor.
I grit my teeth, ready to slam insults at whatever I'd tripped over but reconsider as soon as I realise that it's the poster paper I'd rolled up using an elastic band last night.
I shriek, straightening out the dent in the rolled up poster that I presume my foot made when I tripped over it.
This is why I don't like staying up until 3am, working on presentations I could've finished ages earlier if I'd simply been more proactive.
I set it on my bedside table, and do a quick little scan of my room. There's little bits of paper littering the whole room, with tattered fabric bits and threads sprouting about. I need to vacuum everything when I get back.
I stand there, uncertain, for a little longer, contemplating whether cleaning this mess up would really take me that long.
I almost pick up the little silver foil square sticking out from under some sharpies when my gaze lands on the large clock hanging by the balcony, I hesitate and grit my teeth as I make a dash for the bathroom, cleaning up the room would have to wait.
As soon as I'm out of the en-suite, the messy room is in front of me again, I try to focus out my vision as I make my way to the wardrobe, it's already 8:07, I pick out a simple day dress and on further consideration decide to wear the light beige overcoat on top, just in case. I pull my hair back and secure it in a ponytail using the hair claw I'd found on my bedside table. I quickly put on the diamond studs Pammi aunty gifted me on my last birthday.
It's 8:12 and I'm nowhere near leaving my house. I still didn't know how to do my makeup properly, so bb cream is the way to go. I guess old habits really do die hard. Accept I guess I am better at putting on eyeliner now. I make to put on some lip tint, only to realise that that was what I forgot yesterday. I'd run out of this tint a few days back and keep forgetting to buy a new one. I sigh in frustration as I dot my lips with red lipstick, dabbing it with my finger to make it look more like a tint than a lipstick.
I run out of my room, vaguely aware of my digital clock come alarm flashing a very angry red 8:14 at me.
Only to run back inside as I realise I forgot the poster paper, I pick it up in a dash, almost tripping over the messy carpeted floor, I knew I should've cleaned up.
This time when I run out, the clock still flashes the time at me, except now it's 8:15.
I rush towards the front door, putting on my knee high boots, both Pammi aunty and ma rush after me with plates loaded with food.
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon a Time in London
FanfictionAnjali Sharma and Rahul Khanna have always been at each other's throats. However, something their constant rivalry overlooked is that the line between love and hate is very thin...