Eighteen ➵ z.m. [Camp NaNoWriMo November 2015]

<7>You should seriously consider get your eyes checked then

Seconds turned into minutes.

Minutes into hours.

Hours into days.

It has been days since my father decided to stop by my apartment unexpectedly.

4 days to be exact, which was spent relatively alone and in the comfort in my shoebox apartment, but eventually it got a bit lonely.

I was use to being by myself, but this time it was different. There was nothing for me to look forward to on a daily basis- not a significant other, a pet, or even a job.

Regret is a strong word, but it was what I was currently filled with. I push people away every time they make an effort to get close to me and I quit my job leaving me to lay around the house all day. At first the emptiness of my schedule was welcoming as I had been a self-proclaimed workaholic.

It wasn't quitting my job, that I regretted. To be honest it was probably the best idea I had ever had, that was successful.

What my true regret was that I had nothing to do, nowhere to go, and nobody to see. For some one like me being busy directly correlated to how successful and needed I was.

Back when I worked for my father I was always busy- there was always a question to be answered, a person to straighten out, an email to respond to, or a crisis that needed my immediate attention. It made me feel like I was important, and now that I didn't have it I was starting to doubt my self worth.

It wasn't like me to feel this way, and even more uncharacteristic of me to act upon it, but here I am standing in front of Malik Inc. on a Wednesday afternoon hoping to see Harry.

Before I could lose what little nerve I did have left, I push the door open and walk into the well air-conditioned building.

After a quick look around the establishment, I locate the receptionist's desk which was in the middle of the room.

"Hello," the receptionist greets me with a fake smile plastered to her face. "How can I help you today?"

A quick glance down at her name plate lets me know that her name is Morgan.

"I'm looking for Harry," I say removing the sunglasses from my eyes and placing them inside of my purse.

It was then when I realized that I had yet to find out what his last name was.

This would most likely present a problem for me as well as the receptionist.

It was already bad enough that I didn't have a scheduled appointment, but in my defense I hadn't planned to stop by Malik Inc. in search of Harry. My true destination had been the grocery story down the street as I was running out of frozen items that could be cooked in the microwave, but as I drove by the cooperate office I couldn't pass up the chance to see Harry again.

The last time I saw him was a couple of days ago, but I couldn't deny the simple fact that he was good company to keep around. He was also someone I felt like I had a genuine connection with, and I wouldn't mind having a proper friend for once if Harry was the one with the label.

Obviously she knew who Harry was because she started typing on her computer before looking back up at me with a sickening smile, "I'm sorry ma'am but Mr. Styles has meetings all day. If you could be so kind as to give me your name, I could check his schedule to see if you're on it."

To this I shake my head knowing that I didn't have a scheduled meeting with Harry set into place.

I fight off a sigh that was threatening to erupt from my lips, as this had been a total waste of my time. The only thing that I had accomplished today, was finding out that Harry's last name was apparently Styles.