On a rainy day in the streets of Finsbury Park, London, Vanessa lurked outside a row of Georgian terraced town houses. No umbrella, no coat, just a soaking wet cocktail dress and a pensive look on her face. She stared at the front door of number 24, patiently waiting.
It was unlike Vanessa to be unprepared. In any other circumstances, she'd be properly equipped to deal with the situation she'd found herself in, but she was not expecting to end up in Finsbury Park that night and the rain had not been forecasted.
She should have known though. Just because it was August, it didn't mean that everything would stay warm and sunny.
Eventually, the front door began to open and Vanessa rushed towards it, her Prada heels splashing in the puddles as she went.
An elderly man on his way out smiled at her as she excused herself inside, smiling back at him in a polite, thankful manner. The door closed behind her and she was alone again. The sound of the rain still tapping the windows, reminding her it was still there.
She cautiously made her way up the stairs, her footsteps light and delicate, as if the carpet beneath her could fall away at any moment.
When she reached the front door of the second floor flat she came to a halt. Opening that door would change everything. She still had time to turn around and go back home. Her life could go on as normal, living in blissful ignorance. It didn't all have to end like this if she didn't want it to. She could just go home.
Curiosity got the better of her though and before she knew it, she was taking the framed artwork off the wall, removing the spare key taped to the back of it and unlocking the door.
The place was bigger than she thought a studio would be. She was expecting the room to feel cramped and claustrophobic, but it wasn't. As it stood before her, it seemed cosy and inviting, just begging her to step inside and explore.
For a good while, Vanessa stood in the doorway, not wanting to cross the threshold but when she did decide to venture in, she perused the room as if at a museum. Touching nothing as she stepped over various clothing that was scattered across the wooden floor. Stopping here and there, paying extra attention to the unmade bed, the pile of art focussed books on the floor next to it. There was also a collection of framed artwork, none of it hung up. It had all just been placed around the room, balanced on windowsills and shelves.
The first thing Vanessa touched was in the kitchen corner. A glass with a lipstick stain. She'd picked it up almost on instinct, intrigued by the deep burgundy and the strong smell of tequila. And then, as if that one glass was the gateway to the whole flat, she suddenly began to touch everything.
She opened the few kitchen cabinets, taste testing the off brand cereals, breaking off a piece of chocolate, smelling the loaf of fresh bread obviously acquired from the bakery just down the road. She opened up the fridge, browsing the jam jars, stealing a few grapes for herself. She pondered over the many packets of ramen noodles and their vast options of flavours.
She flipped through some of the books, resting on a table under the window. It was a range from sci-fi adventure to Japanese Anime to feminist poetry to romance novels to non fiction space books.
Vanessa then made her journey to the bathroom. She almost admired the brightly coloured shower curtain with it's floral pattern and the beautiful matching hand towel resting next to the sink. She rummaged through the mirror cabinet, taking a special interest in the make up bag perched on the bottom shelf.
Inside, it was filled with all kinds of luxury brands, Yves Saint Laurent, Tom Ford, Chanel. Vanessa tried every single thing. Testing it on her forearm, smelling it or holding it up next to her own complexion. When she was satisfied she'd tried everything, she put it back and turned her attention to the shower, smelling the different shampoos and conditioners, engulfing her nose in their light, sweet essence.
