Opposites attract, I guess.

-3-

(((IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO UPDATE BUT IM HERE NOW SO HI OK CONTINUE AND ENJOY)))

Not going to lie, I was kind of excited that I had Frank's number. It made me feel welcomed and shit. Normally, I wouldn't be conversing with someone like him.

I had always been raised in a "square" household. You know, curfews, 4.0 GPA's, light-colored clothing, ectcetra. I never experimented with different styles (or drugs) and was never allowed to mix with alternative-types of people.

So meeting someone like Frank is new, and I hope since he's different that he won't be a dick like all the other guys I've talked to.

I kept my phone on my pocket, just in case Frank decided to send me a text...

When I arrived at the apartment building, I noticed Clarrisa waiting outside. Was she waiting for me?

I shut off my car and moved my glasses up so they rested on my head. Once I got out, she ran over, well more like shuffled awkwardly since she was wearing a pencil skirt.

"Hi! You must be Blaire! Nice to meet you!" she said energetically, outstretching one of her thin manicured hands to shake mine. She made me feel very insecure, since my nails were bitten to the skin and were bare thanks to my anxiety.

I smiled and took it, as she shaked it as if she were run by a motor. What was she on? "Yep that's me, nice to meet you too."

She quickly ushered me inside and upstairs to Room 15. Inside, it was neatly decorated, like the catalogs for those Swedish furniture companies. Everything seemed to be in the right place.

But I did notice an odd, mickey-mouse sweatshirt sitting on the couch. It looked too large to be hers, and probably not something she would wear.

She must've noticed me looking at it, because she quickly ran and threw it behind the couch.

"Sorry bout that, guess I forgot to pick it up!" she said, laughing nervously. I smiled tightly and we stood for an awkward silence till she spoke again.

"Anyways, would you like to see your room?"

My room matched the persona of the apartment, since everything was white except for a splash of baby blue here and there. There was also a hole in the door.

I didn't ask about it because I was slightly worried to find out where it came from.

Clarrisa began again. "So do you like it? I don't need to interview you since I want you to move in as soon as possible!"

"Oh yeah, it's very clean! How much again?"

"400 a month, but the first one is on me, since I assume you just moved."

I chuckled. "Yeah it's been a bit hectic. But that's great, thank you so much."

"I should be thanking you!" she said. "Now maybe my ex will move out!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. Go ahead and decorate the room as you like, but no sticky things on the wall and please refrain from sexual activities until after 10:00 pm."

I nodded and left the apartment, just as another car pulled up. I could have sworn it looked exactly like Frank's, but I don't remember too much.

It probably wasn't since he called me as I left.

"Hey, how'd the interview go? Did she like you?" he asked, sounding a bit worried.

"Oh yeah! She seemed like a nutball though, and a definete clean freak."

"Ha well, welcome to LA, land of the wierdos, hipsters, and nutballs. Gotta go and deal with some stupid shit so I'll ttyl!"

"Oh uh by-"

He hung up proptly, leaving me there stunned. Is everybody in LA like this?

I shoved it off and drove to a small coffee shop next to a bookstore, to see if I could find any good paperbacks. Inside, as if by magic, I saw the man on the plane sipping on a coffee with his glasses practically hanging off his sharp nose. That was the man that complimented my artwork.

His brows were furrowed over some type of art, but I couldn't tell what it was. He suddenly looked up and right at me. I blushed out of embarassment, but he pushed his glasses up and waved.

I chuckled and waved back as I walked into the shop. The smell of coffee opened up my sinuses and for once I felt like I was at home. It reminded me of the old coffee shop I would go to with my dad after we went ice skating.

I stood in front of the counter and ordered a simple black coffee. I always drink it black for some reason. 

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Gerard.

I knew this by his name tag. Why is he wearing one anyway?

"Hi, I'm-"

"Gerard?" I interjected, making him smile and look at his shoes.

"Yep. All I know about you is 'This luggage is from Minnesota', but I'd like that to change. Want to join me for coffee?"

"I'd like that" I said, grabbing a coffee slip and following him to his small table by the window.