The Ex-Husband of Alice Langley

16

TAYLOR SWIFT
March 7th. It's late in the year for this to happen, but who am I to question the weather? Snow is falling slowly outside the New York apartment, blanketing the streets in a soft layer of white. I'm nestled on the couch, the fireplace crackling beside me, its warm glow casting a cozy light in the room. My hands are wrapped around a steaming cup of hot chocolate, the rich scent swirling around me as I take a sip, letting the warmth spread through my body.

I gaze at the screen, captivated by the whimsical charm of The Aristocats. The classic tunes and playful antics of the characters bring back a rush of childhood nostalgia.

Do mi sol do do sol mi do 
Every truly cultured music student knows 
You must learn your scales and your arpeggios. 
Bring the music ringing from your chest 
And not your nose.

I can't help but hum along, recalling all the times I sang these lyrics while practicing my own music lessons. It's a joy to see my past intertwine with the present, especially on a day like this.

As the snow continues to fall, I lean back into the cushions, letting the world outside fade away. The cozy ambiance envelops me like a warm blanket, and for a moment, all my worries drift away with the snowflakes. It's just me, a classic film, and the comforting familiarity of the music that echoes my own journey.

The front door lights up softly as it runs its scanning mechanism. The sleek panel above the handle flickers to life, casting a soft blue hue across the dimly lit hallway. A faint whirring noise fills the air, mingling with the crackling sound of the fireplace in the living room. I glance over at Alice, who's curled up on the couch, her eyes focused on the screen where The Aristocats plays. A smile dances on her lips, but her curiosity is piqued by the commotion outside.

"Access denied."

"What's happening?"Alice asks, her brow furrowed slightly as she sits up a bit, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Sounds like Paris is locked out again," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"For fuck's sake!" I hear Paris scream on the other side.

I exchange a quick glance with Alice, who raises an eyebrow, clearly as curious as I am. "What's she up to now?" I mutter under my breath, setting my hot chocolate down on the coffee table. The sudden disruption breaks the cozy atmosphere, and the movie fades into the background.

"Do you think she forgot her code again?" Alice asks, stifling a laugh.

"Probably," I reply, shaking my head as I rise from the couch. "She's the smartest person I know, but somehow can't remember a code to a door."

"Maybe she needs a more memorable number," Alice suggests with a grin, clearly enjoying the moment.

"Or a sign taped to her forehead," I quip, moving toward the door. I can hear Paris's muffled voice growing more frantic on the other side.

As I approach the door, the panel's blue glow pulses rhythmically, and I can hear Paris's frustrated voice mumbling a string of numbers. I press my ear against the door.

"Come on, come on," she mutters. "I know it's... it's... oh! 4321!"

The panel remains silent, the light unchanged. I can't help but chuckle. "She's really working hard on this, isn't she?" I turn back to Alice, who shakes her head, amusement dancing in her eyes.

I reach for the handle and pull it open. "What's the magic code today?"

Paris stands there, her face flushed and her hair a wild mess from rushing. "It's not funny!" she huffs, crossing her arms. "The door wouldn't let me in, and I was sure I typed it right!"