My Rockstar Neighbor

Chapter 3

WARNING
The contents of this book
may be disturbing to some readers. Contains explicit content and language, and mentions of self harm. If you or a loved one are suffering from a metal illness there are people and programs set up to help you.
Keep this in mind as you go.
Reader discretion advised.

Elizabeth
Monday April 1, 2024 :: 3:58 am

When I say I was livid last night. I entirely meant it as I felt a sense of fury burning through my bones while I stocked a shelf full of cheese.
"I have never seen someone look so scary while stacking cheese." Rebecca voiced from behind me. I sighed and put down my box to face her. We weren't even supposed to be here tonight but because we were on call and someone had to take off we got called in to babysit. At night the supermarket was peaceful, no bustling nosy business of the big city to jostle you around. Even though the fridge behind the shelves was usually peaceful even during the day. No one but the loud hum of the fridges running.
"It's not the cheese I'm mad at." I said as I crossed my arms with a pout. She laughed and stepped closer. She patted my shoulder exaggeratedly as she whimpered out.
"Do I need to call a doctor?" She wore a sad frown that she quickly replaced with an amused smile when it got its intended reaction.
"No. It's nothing! Just this rockstar neighbor bullshit." I rolled my eyes and bent back down to keep stocking. Maybe the faster I get done the faster I can leave. It was as if Becca could read my mind.
"It's only four in the morning. We still have a solid three more hours to go." She reminded me of our tight schedule. "We leave at seven, not eight, so technically it's only two whole hours. We leave at the beginning of hour three." I continued stacking, turning one around so the label shows the right way.
"Whatever you say. I gotta get back to cleaning the bathrooms." She shuddered as she begrudgingly made her way to the cleaning supply closet. I giggled a little at her attitude before I let my mind go back to angrily thinking about Spencer and what I'm meant to do with him.
When he had said that nickname to me, I just about lost it. It took everything I had to not lash out at him for remembering me from our childhood. Yet even as he said it, standing there before me in the hallway, I still couldn't recognize his face. I searched his eyes but nothing ever came. Only fear  overwhelmed me.
After I shut him out, I found my senior yearbook. I found the senior photo of myself, my last name started with A which meant that almost everyone else in my class was after me. I flipped through the pages and found the only boy in our class with the name Spencer. I read his whole name out loud, Spencer Stone Mitchell. It hit me in an instant. Yet I had no time to confront him before I had to get myself ready for work. I figured a quick kick in the pants would do him some good when I ran into our sunshine landlord on the way to my car. Teach him to plague me with these thoughts right before work.
I remembered the day his mom and my mom introduced the two of us to one another. I think we were about four or five years old. They had just brought us to a park for the play date, which didn't happen how they expected. My mom said, 'Beth An this is Stone'. His mom said, 'and Stone this is Beth An'. Neither of us said a word to one another as we ran our own way around the park, avoiding each other at all costs.
Later on in life, the older we got the more he started to pick on me. Using my glasses to blind me with his height, pulling my hair or tightening it too much. I tried so hard to get him to leave me alone and eventually he did. High school he was too busy trying to bang every girl there to bother with me anymore and I just snuck my way through school unseen. It was probably the hardest thing I had ever done. Something I never talked about with anyone and held trauma that I tried desperately to hide.
My family life in high school had hit a rough patch when my parents were having a hard time failing to conceive. I wasn't too thrilled at the idea of a little brother or sister being around but I felt like there was something more behind why they wanted a new baby so badly. It's why they slowly started growing more and more distant. Like if they kept me at arms length they could control me.
The fighting only got worse the older I got and by then I had hit the lowest point in life. My grades had taken a hit, my parents barely acknowledged me or if they did it would be to yell at me about something. My arms showcased the battlefield that those days had created. Even through it all though I pushed back and kept going.
After high school, something happened with my parents and Spencer's parents, that caused a rift between them. Their friendship was dead and Mrs. Mitchell grabbed her whole family and moved them across the state. I went straight into Iowa University for four years and went on to receive my Bachelors of Fine Arts Degree after that. My time in University was another dark period that I would rather not get into right now but let's just say it left my upper inner thighs showing the aftermath of another war.
When I moved out here to New York, a month after my graduation, I never expected that my life would actually turn out so much better for me here. I was finally able to be myself and live my life the way that I see fit. I was lucky enough to have had some family that lived here already so I paid them rent for a room to stay in.
An opportunity presented itself early when I read an article about an exclusive internship at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I got my foot in the door and was on my way from there. Scoring clients, commissioning paintings, I saved up enough money for a down payment for a decent place but it turned out I didn't even need it. I got to spend it on furnishing my new apartment. My daydream continued as the box of cheese was now empty and I switched over to a new box. The eerie smile of the cheese's company logo mascot was undeniably spooky and I was glad I got to stack them facing away from me. It was gonna be a long night.