Grey Gods

Chapter Three - P.S.

Lana:

Moving is easy.

I have four boxes and two suitcases that represent my life. That's it. When I sold my grandmother's house, I sent everything to auction. I want new furniture, new clothes, new everything, so that's exactly what I do that first day.

I spent a small fortune on a queen-sized mattress that surprisingly fit through the basement door, a luxurious sheet set, pillows, and a metal bed frame. At one of the local furniture stores, I found a comfy two-person couch for my living room, a little wooden coffee table, and a woven rug that had a little Spanish flare to it. The yellow and purple reminded me of the tiled walkway at the front of the house.

I hit a couple thrift stores and antique shops, finding odd things that I like and collect on my endless day of shopping. When I got hungry, I picked up chicken tacos and went back to my apartment around nine. I took a long shower. Slept in my amazing new bed. And loved every second of it.

I love it here.

Today is all about self-care since I've been slacking. Between my grandmother's funeral, selling her house and moving, I haven't had a good workout in weeks, so the first thing I do when I wake up is throw on a matching set and map directions to the nearest gym. I buy myself a membership and work out for two glorious, serotonin-boosting hours, and then I drive to the grocery store and buy enough food for the week.

Two-hundred-eighty-dollars later, my fridge and all my cabinets are stocked full, I've showered, eaten, and now I'm leaving the nail salon with a fresh set of stiletto-shaped black acrylics.

I love getting my nails done.

I start my new job tomorrow, and I really want to look my best, so before I head back home, I drive by the mall and get my eyebrows threaded.

The sun set is neon pink on the horizon, and I drive with the windows down, serenely singing along to Audioslave.

Dinner consists of a whole roasted chicken that I can eat throughout the week, asparagus, and rigatoni pasta with tons of Parmesan cheese. I eat in my bed with a clay mask smeared on my face and happily melt my brain with my favorite guilty pleasure: YouTube videos.

Total bliss.

A sound from outside interrupts that bliss.

Pausing with my fork in my mouth, a sound from outside snags my attention. It gets louder, more distinct – rumbling?

I pause my video and set down my fork. I tilt my head to the door all the way across my apartment, and listen closely, my brain working out the sound until it's suddenly obvious.

Motorcycles.

Not just one. But many, the overlapping clicking and ticking and growling engines causing me to freeze still. Voices and shouts echo beyond my basement door, somewhere up by the garage. I hear music, splashing, and laughter that oddly plucked a tender nerve deep inside me.

I've never been to a party.

I don't have friends or family. I don't belong to anyone.

Sitting here, I feel like I'm missing out on something I've never even experienced. I grab my headphones and return my attention back to my dinner and YouTube, feeling a bit sorry for myself.

***

"To accommodate your schooling, you'll have the same schedule every week, Monday through Wednesday, and Saturdays, eight to five. You can wear anything you like, as long as it's black and white and professional, that is our only dress code. This is your station here. Charlotte isn't in today, but she told me to welcome you and if you have any questions, please ask anyone around you."