Snapshot » l.t.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3



Renee's POV



I sat down in my car and turned my keys in the ignition. I had already spent thirty minutes this morning saying goodbye to Lacy and prying her off my leg, so I was running late. I had this all planned out: say my goodbyes to Lacy, go to my parents and tell them the good news, pack more things, and meet the doorman for my new apartment. I was running on a tight schedule.

I sped out of my college's parking lot, and didn't bother looking back. Other than photography class and Lacy, that place held no love for me.

I turned down the old familiar road and switched the radio on. I hoped something good was on. I hadn't listened to music in a long time.

It would take another good half hour or so to get to my parents' house, so I didn't really have much time to waste. I couldn't wait to see them, and I knew the feeling was probably mutual.

You see, I'm an only child. They'd always wanted to have another kid, but they just couldn't, I guess. I was isolated from all of the other kids. I was shy and unsociable. I spent my time alone taking pictures or drawing or writing in my journal.

Sometimes I thought I was a disappointment to my parents because I never really cared about how I looked or how I acted. Luckily I outgrew those feelings over time, but I can't get my childhood back.

My favorite song came on the radio, and I grinned, cranking it up. It was "People Like Us" by Kelly Clarkson. My favorite artist would have to be Kelly Clarkson. Her music just speaks to me.

Another twenty-five minutes later, I was driving down the road that my parents lived on. They lived in a little town you can't even find on the map. And they thought I was unsociable. I rolled my eyes, smirking to myself. Hypocrites.

I spotted the small house on the end, and I pulled up onto the driveway. I hopped out of my car excitedly, but I left my suitcases in the trunk. I didn't leave much behind when I went to college. I could bring it out to the car later.

I almost ran up to the front door, but I managed to control myself. I knocked my fist confidently against the wooden door and waited. It didn't take very long.

"I'll get it!" I heard my mother's voice yell, and a few seconds later she opened it. She was a smaller woman, so she had to look up to see who it was. Her jaw literally dropped. "Hi, Mum," I said, smiling.

"Renee!" she squealed and squished me in a hug. For someone so small, she sure had a strong grip! "It's so good to see you! What are you doing here? Come in, come in!" She ended her babbling by pushing me inside and shutting the door behind us.

Our house was just the same as it always was. The stairs out front, two halls on either side, the dining room to my left, the living room to my right, and pictures covering every spare space on the wall. I smiled again. It felt so good to be home.

"Mags, who is it?" my father called from upstairs. Mags was my mother's nickname. Her real name was Megan.

"It's Renee!" Mum screamed.

"Stop joking around and be serious," Dad sighed.

"I am being serious! Renee is here, in flesh and blood!"

I heard a lot of thudding noises, and Dad appeared at the top of the stairs, right in front of Mum and I. "It is Renee!" he gasped and nearly jumped down the stairs to give me a bear hug.

Soon we were all hugging, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so... safe, I guess. I realized I really missed my parents.

Finally after a minute or two, we stopped. "Now, answer my question!" Mum playfully ordered. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, summer is here, and--" I started to say, but Dad cut me off. "But I thought you were going to take a summer course," he said.

"Let me finish," I said, and I struggled to keep a poker face. "I'm not taking the summer course because I have a summer job! And you'll never guess what it is!"

Mum and Dad glanced at each. They didn't even bother guessing. "What's the job?" Dad asked.

"I'm part of the paparazzi for Teen Tiger!" I squealed, and waited for them to freak out. Instead, they stared at me. "I know paparazzi's a big deal," Mum said. "But what's Teen Tiger?"

I sighed. "It's a teen magazine full of the latest gossip and stuff like that," I said impatiently.

THEN they started to freak out. "Oh my gosh, Renee, I'm so proud of you!" Mum cried and hugged me again.

"Does this mean you'll be taking plenty of pictures?" Dad asked.

"Yes, Dad," I replied, a huge grin on my face. He grinned back and joined our group hug.

"Too much hugging!" I yelped and pushed them away. I wasn't done speaking yet, but I felt bad when I saw the sad looks on their faces. "You can hug me later," I said quickly.

"You still haven't completely told us why you are here," Mum reminded me.

"Exactly," I agreed. "I'm here to pick up some of my stuff and move into a nearby flat."

"What?" Mum gasped. "You're leaving so soon? But you just got here!"

I looked at her sadly. "I know, but my job is far away from here," I said. "I have to get a flat."

"Well, I'm glad you stopped by," Dad said, squeezing my shoulder.

"My room is untouched, right?" I asked them both in a warning tone.

"Yes, nothing has been moved," Mum said quickly.

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Thanks," I said, and headed upstairs.

My room was the immediate room on the right, so I turned and went inside. My parents weren't lying to me, my room was just as normal as the rest of the house. My desk was in one corner and my bed was in the other. My window was open and a slight breeze was blowing through. And every square inch of the wall and ceiling were covered in photographs. Most of them depicted nature, friends, or family.

I went over to my desk and searched through the drawers. I found plenty of film and cameras, and I immediately took those. I ignored my clothes dresser because most of the stuff inside were either too small or SO 2+ years ago.

I came back downstairs with my arms full, and my parents were still there waiting for me. "Let me help you with that," Dad said, and took half the load off my shoulders. Literally. "Thanks," I said, flashing him a grateful smile.

"I would hug you, but cameras are between us," Mum chuckled. "I hope you have fun at your new job."

"Of course I will," I assured her. "I'm taking pictures of celebrities. How could a person NOT have fun?" Mum laughed again.

They followed me out to the car, where they put my extra stuff in the backseat and said their goodbyes. That took longer than it should have, so I had to step on it if I wanted to meet the doorman in time.

"Bye!" I shouted, waving out my side window as I pulled out. "I promise I'll visit!" My parents stood out in the driveway in their weekend clothes, waving to me until I couldn't see them anymore.



*~*~*~*



"Come on, come on, come on," I mumbled, tapping my thumbs impatiently against the steering wheel. I hate traffic. I'd been stuck in the same place for five minutes and I was seriously running late. Did I mention that I hate traffic?

Finally, the line started to inch forward, and I resisted the urge to stomp on the pedal. Then we were stopped again, and I had to suffer another agonizing five minutes of stillness.

I was ten minutes late and panicking by the time I finally found a spot in the apartment building's parking lot. I jumped out of my car, left my things behind, and practically sprinted into the front lobby.

"I'm here!" I gasped, crashing through the doors. The doorman jumped and dropped the magazine that he was reading. He looked up. "Are you Ms. Renee Wilson?" he asked, and I nodded vigorously. "Sorry I'm late," I quickly apologized. "It's just that my friends and family wanted to see me and--"

But the doorman only chuckled. "That's quite alright, Ms. Wilson," he cut in smoothly. "You're the only appointment I have scheduled for today. No need to worry." I let out a small sigh of relief.

The doorman gestured for me to follow him, and we went behind his desk and to his office beyond. It was small, with bookshelves on either side and a desk in the back. He took a seat on the far side and I took the seat across from him.

"My name is Roger Moore," he said, holding out his hand. "And I hope I can satisfy your catering needs." I tried not to laugh at his formality while I shook his hand. Geez, I was twenty-one years old, not fifty! Put some life into your voice, man!

"What do you look for in a flat?" he asked earnestly, and I couldn't hide the snort that I quickly turned into a cough. This guy was much too focused.

"I just want something small," I said. "The smallest flat that you've got!"

Roger--or should I be formal like him and call him Mr. Moore?--looked surprised by my answer. "What would you want in it?" he asked.

"Not much," I said lightly. "A bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a small living area, if that's possible."

Another surprised look. "Well, you're in luck," Mr. Moore said. "We have three of those kind of flats available. Would you like to look at them?"

"Are they all alike?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Then just one will do."

We got up and I followed Mr. Moore to the elevator, where we went up to the third floor. Five rooms to the right later, and we were standing in front of what could be my new flat. He unlocked it and ushered me inside.

I smiled as I looked around. I had walked straight into a small living space, like I asked, complete with a television, couch, and even a recliner.

Beyond that was the kitchen, with a refrigerator, microwave, oven, cupboards, and a dining table for three.

Connected to both the living area and the kitchen was a short hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom was nearest, so I looked in there first. There was, of course, a toilet, sink, and shower.

Next, I looked in the bedroom. There was a bed to the right wall, and straight in front of me was a wardrobe to hold my clothes. Next to my bed was a nightstand with a lamp and alarm clock on top.

I went back to the entrance, where Mr. Moore was waiting. "So, what do you think?" he asked.

"It's perfect!" I exclaimed. "How much is the rent?"

Mr. Moore wasted no time in telling me the price. "660 pounds," he replied promptly.

"660 pounds?!" I gasped. I hoped that paparazzi job paid well.

"Done," I mumbled, and we shook on it. No turning back now. I ended up paying back down at the office right away, and I moved in that night. "Flat sweet flat," I sighed, setting my stuff down on my new bed. This better be worth it, both the job and the flat.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



ɑʋʈɧoɽ'ʂ ɳoʈe:


ɧeɣ, ɠʋɣʂ! i'ɱ ʂo ʂoɽɽɣ ʄoɽ ɳoʈ ʋƥɗɑʈiɳɠ! iʈ'ʂ ɓeeɳ ɯɧɑʈ, ɑ ɱoɳʈɧ ʂiɳƈe i ɭɑʂʈ ʋƥɗɑʈeɗ?? ʈɧeɽe iʂ ʂoɱeʈɧiɳɠ ɯɽoɳɠ ɯiʈɧ ɱe, i ʂɯeɑɽ.

ɓʋʈ i'ɱ ɓɑƈƙ ɳoɯ, ɳo ɳeeɗ ʈo ɯoɽɽɣ! ɳoɯ ʈɧɑʈ i've ɠoʈ ʈɧiʂ ƈɧɑƥʈeɽ ɗoɳe, ʈɧe ɽeʂʈ ʂɧoʋɭɗ ɓe ɑ ɓɽeeʐe! (i ɧoƥe...)

i'ɱ ɑɭʂo ʂoɽɽɣ ʄoɽ ʋʂiɳɠ ʈɧiʂ ɯeiɽɗ ʄoɳʈ, iʄ ɣoʋ ɗoɳ'ʈ ɭiƙe iʈ. iʈ'ʂ ʝʋʂʈ ʈɧɑʈ i ƈɑɳ'ʈ ʋʂe ɓoɭɗ ɑɳɣɱoɽe ɓeƈɑʋʂe oʄ ɱɣ iƥoɗ! ʈɧɑʈ'ʂ ɯɧeɽe i've ɓeeɳ ƥoʂʈiɳɠ ɑɭɭ oʄ ɱɣ ƈɧɑƥʈeɽʂ ɭɑʈeɭɣ. ƈɑɳ ʈɧe ƈoɱƥʋʈeɽ ʋʂeɽʂ ɽeɑɗ ʈɧiʂ? i ɧoƥe ʂo. i ɽeɑɭɭɣ ɯɑɳʈ ʈo ɑƥoɭoɠiʐe ʄoɽ ʈɧe ɭɑʈe ʋƥɗɑʈeʂ.



ʂo ʂoɽɽɣ, ɑɳɗ ʂʈɑɣ ɓeɑʋʈiʄʋɭ,
-ʂɑɱɱi <3