incandescent

i

october 20th, 2023
manhattan, nyc
lorelai sinclair

╰➤ ❝𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬...❞

☽༓･*˚⁺‧⁺˚*･༓ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 look in your eye and I got that..."

The faint sound of Taylor Swift playing from my laptop was quickly drowned out by obnoxious, continuous knocking.

"Rory! Rory, I know you're in there! Open the goddamn door, young lady!" Shit. That was my neighbor, Emma. She hated me, even though I never did anything to her. Half awake, I stumbled to the front door, bumping into the coffee table and swearing loudly.

"Oh, hey there, Emma!" I chuckled nervously as I swung open the door, hopping on one foot. She glared at me.

"Lorelai," Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. Aside from my parents, she was the only one that called me by my full name. "It's 10:30 in the morning. Some people want to sleep in. I've been up all night listening to Taylor Swift playing on repeat since midnight."

"I am so sorry, Emma. To be fair, Taylor's releasing her version of 1989 in less than a week to and I'm preparing. Has your daughter done the same?" I asked, reaching for my most prized possession on the coffee table. "You know," I continued, waving the Eras ticket around, "I have an extra ticket for her tour," I smirked, and I knew that was Emma's weakness. Although she made it her personal mission to attack me for building violations, she really did care for her foster daughter, Isabella. When Emma would be stuck at work, I would watch Isa and we would bake pies and listen to Taylor religiously, and I knew it would be her dream to see her live. 

She scoffed but then snatched the ticket from me and I grinned.

"Ok, fine. But you better turn that down!" She huffed. Wait.

"Emma! Did you say it was 10:30?"

"Yes...? Well, now it's 10:32."

"Oh, fuck!" I could hear Emma mumbling about how crazy I was as I turned down Style.

My interview with Astor, Inc. was this morning. At 9:30. I was so screwed. The one day I needed Blair, my best friend, to wake me up, she decided to go out. I rushed to the bathroom, nearly tripping over Juno. She hissed at me, voicing her disappointment as I ate a cold Pop-Tart while brushing out my very puffy hair. How did I suddenly break out overnight? What time was it?

"Fuck! Fuck, no!" I yelped, burning my hand as I straightened my hair. This wasn't working. It was too late to pick up my blazer from the dry cleaners. I threw on a cute, albeit plain white blouse with a black skirt. I cringed at the irony. I applied to be the assistant for a fashion company. Of course I needed to look my best. It was 10:45 and I was about to miss the train. At least my makeup was sort of good. I ran out the door, bumping into Blair.

"Where are you going?" Blair asked at the same time I shrieked, "Where have you been?"

"Ugh, forget it! I'm so late to my interview, text you soon!" I air-kissed her before practically sprinting to the subway. I cursed myself for wearing heels today.

On the train, I tried to calm myself. This happened to people all the time, right? A guy dressed as cheese was playing the harmonica, distracting me. Many rats were surrounding him. Surprisingly enough, this was not the craziest thing I've seen on the train.