My One Mistake

Chapter One

Water poured onto my head as I tried to quickly retrieve my apartment key from my purse. I cursed myself as I rummaged the bag and couldn't pull out the card to unlock the doors. I also cursed myself for wearing flats with my uniform today instead of my boots. It's already mid October and it felt like my bare legs were about to snap off, plus the rain made it colder than any Quebec winter I've ever been through.

Finally, I clasped the plastic in my hand and swiped it through the slot as fast as I could. I ran into the lobby and brushed my soaking wet hair out of my face. The doorman, Justin, who is my least favourite because he's the biggest French creep in Canada, was staring at my hostess uniform, which was a black v line dress that showed a little tiny bit of cleavage, with long sleeves and ended just above my knees. Honestly it's not very professional, and it sends a very bad message to perverted frenchies.

"Mademoiselle Ellis, you are very, eh, délicieuse aujourd'hui." He blew me a kiss and winked in my direction. I immediately jumped to the elevator and pressed the number 2 button, praying to god he wasn't going to follow me. The doors closed before he could even leave his seat.

I flung open my apartment door and stepped into the cramped space. I poured some wine into my one wine glass and chugged it, feeling the burning grape juice in my throat. I figured since I'm living alone it'd be cheaper to just have one of everything. One cup, one bowl, one fork, one spoon. I also have no tv or coffee machine, but I don't like coffee or paying expensive bills for cable. I'm happy with just Netflix and wine.

I peeled off my wet uniform and tossed it in my hamper. I felt cozy as I slipped into my sweats and my favourite shirt, my black long sleeved shirt. Going back to my living room/dining room, I nestled in my couch and opened my laptop, logging onto Netflix to watch Family Guy as usual.

A messaged notification popped up from my mom on my phone while I was eating my spaghetti dinner. I immediately ignored it. She always asks how I'm doing then we end up talking about how I'm still living in my apartment I shared with my now ex boyfriend, and how I should leave and go back to school to study something useful. I don't wanna go near that conversation. Ever.

I went to cegep and university, apparently going into literature and arts gets you pretty much, well, as far as you expect to go. Teacher or "artist", take your pick. I'm pretty lucky actually. I have a part time job working as a studio assistant at an art gallery downtown. Besides that, in a hostess at a restaurant. What a life.

I always pictured myself going somewhere new every day. I always wanted to move somewhere different and find something I actually want. I  have no drive in life like I did years ago when I was naïve to how expensive and time consuming following dreams were.

Before I knew it, it was already two in the morning. I was so glad it was Sunday so I didn't have to work. I closed the laptop and cleaned my dish and pot then unplugged the stove and microwave and any lamps I missed this morning. The salary of a hostess and part time assistant can't cover the electric bill.

After getting ready for bed I climbed under the covers. I was exhausted after working non stop this week, and I still had so many chores to do in the morning. My hands rubbed my face while I thought of all the crap I had to do. I decided to deal with it in the morning, and closed my eyes, hoping to get some sleep tonight. I slept a lot better when he was next to me.

First part of a very new story, tell me what you think homies. I'm so sorry I'm so lame. Ok I love you