The First of Many

Master

-☾-

It was hard to pretend like everything was normal as you got ready for work. For so long, you'd been stuck in a routine. Safe, if a bit boring. You brewed and downed a cup of coffee in a few large gulps, barely tasting it, no time now to sit and sip it slowly if you were going to make the train today. Your bank account would not be pleased if you missed it again and had to take a taxi, and your boss would not be pleased if you were late. So, you showered, dressed, and threw your hair into a quick, neat bun. The collar of the soft blouse you chose mostly hid the dark mark on your neck, and the sleeve cuffs covered the purple lines branded into your wrist, the mementos of your night of passion. You weren't in the mood to deal with odd stares or questions — besides, how would you even answer them?

Before you headed out the door, you stuffed half of an untoasted bagel in your mouth as you flitted about your bedroom, grabbing a sweater in case the office was cold, your phone charger, and — you turned to the dresser. A noise reached your ears, high-pitched music you could barely hear, as if being played very softly or far away. It was a celestial sound, hauntingly beautiful, insistent but faint. You opened the top drawer and the sound quieted, lowering to blend in with the mild ringing you always heard when the world was too quiet, probably a consequence of a few too many concerts without ear protection when you were younger. Your lips tightened — you might have brushed the initial sound off as tinnitus, or maybe a neighbor's TV if you hadn't seen and experienced everything you had last night.

You stuck your hand in the drawer and fumbled around the mismatched socks and underwear until you felt it: the tiny jar. It was kind of silly to bring it with you, but there was no time to think it over. So, you grabbed the glass container and chucked it in your bag, satisfied with your choice.

After a hasty half-walk half-jog down the street, you caught your train just before the doors closed. Fortune was smiling on you today; it was a close call. Luckily, you found a seat on the train this morning, too — another spot of good luck. Maybe it was a positive omen for your day. Your phone buzzed in your pocket again and your heart sank as you realized you'd never replied to Johanna. You pulled it out to check the latest message.

'Hello??' her message read. 'Did you get snatched under the bed by some creature of the night?'

You swallowed hard. That wasn't quite what had happened. 'No,' you replied. 'I'm still here. On my way to work.'

'Glad to hear it. Want to stop by after you're off for the day? I'm heading home early tomorrow.'

You smiled at your screen. 'Sure, Jo. Your place?'

'Yep! I'll even pick up some dinner. My treat.'

'I'll be there :)'

You tucked your phone away and smiled. Last night's events and your early morning revelation had been a lot to take in, but you were sure today was going to be a good day.

-☾-

You knocked on the door of Johanna's temporary home, and readjusted your bag's strap that was digging into your shoulder as you waited for your friend to answer. Work had gone surprisingly smoothly, and your boss had actually complimented the reports you'd submitted last week. The paper bag in your hand crunched as you clutched the bottle of merlot you picked up, a nice little farewell gift to share with your wine-loving friend.

"Hi!" Johanna threw open the door and beamed, wrapping her arms around you.

She pulled you inside and gestured towards the table, one take-out container of pad thai and one of curry already sitting out with two plates and sets of silverware. Your grin soon matched hers, the food reminding you of many late nights in college eating takeaway straight out of the carton, pulling all-nighters as you crammed for finals.