My New Muse (Mild Wattpad Version) (Completed) [SLOWLY BEING EDITED]

5. Somebody to Lean On

This has to be one of the most educational experiences that I have ever had in my entire life.

I've been to many parties/raves/carnivals in my life- Carnival almost every year since childhood, Lush, VSOP, Back to Basics, Scorch as a teenager, UWI Carnival as a UWI student, and Dream Weekend, Plush at Club Privilege and just this summer, EDX as an adult. I've been going to Major Lazer concert ever since my first one in January, 2013. Hell, I even go to taboo sometimes, but I have never been to anything like this.

I'm at an 18 and over water party. Apparently, for this particular party, "water" entails that women in bath suits, or anything revealing wrestle each other in a blow up pool, while everyone else cheers, screams, etc.

Of course, there's always that one man on the microphone screaming and shouting so loudly that you'd think that the speaker is right beside you.

For some reason, in all the street dance videos, they always. Sound. The. Same.

Even though this man's voice is no different from the others, this is definitely not a street dance.

I hold up my camera and take a picture as one woman pushes the other over the side of the pool, into the mud created from the water splashing over the side of the pool.

I cannot believe that I am actually being paid to photograph this... whatever this is.

I continue to snap pictures of women wrestling to the soundtrack of Vybz Kartel, Spice, Aidonia, Alkaline, Macka Diamond, and even Kerwin Du Bois.

I am absolutely fascinated by the scene in front of me. So fascinated, that I don't realise that someone is standing right beside me.

"Do you regularly come to this kind of event?"

I immediately recognise his voice.

"Are you stalking me, Mr Rochester?"

His lips raise into a smirk.

"I simply came to observe you work."

"How did you find me?"

"It's a small country."

For some reason, I'm not bothered by the fact that he's stalking me. It seems totally in character for him, and I don't feel threatened by it. I actually feel better, having someone even a little bit familiar in such a foreign place.

We stand there in silence for a few more seconds, watching as a new pair of girls enter the pool and square up.

"Listen. I just want you to know... that if you ever need anything, you can call me."

I look at him for a few seconds, trying to decipher whether or not he's joking.

He's dead serious. Even though I can hardly make out his handsome features in the dark, I can tell that there isn't a hint of humour on his face.

God damnit, people are so much more attractive when they aren't a pain in your ass.

"I will," I tell him, hoping that I'll never actually need to call him. I probably won't; I mean, I barely know him. Since the last time I saw him, I've been reviewing him in my mind. There just seems to be something a little bit... intense when he's looking at me.

Sighing, I look back at the scene in front of me just in time to capture a picture of the pool bursting and both women falling.

***

I'm driving back to my once again, well lit apartment exhausted, grateful that I finally got a chance to pay the light bill today.

I expect to be able go straight to bed- just plop into my tattered, probably 20 thread count sheets and drop asleep.

I just can't wait, really.

But once I park my car, enter the building and make my way to my room, it becomes very clear that something is wrong.

There is water coming from my apartment. It's leaking from under my door onto the corridor. And oh yes, it definitely is mine, because any hope that I would have had that it was coming form my neighbour's apartment is erased once I open the door.

I don't want to do this right now, don't want to face this right now. But as soon as the door opens, I see the ocean of water covering my living room, which only looks worse when I flip on the light switch. I suddenly find myself wishing for JPS to cut off my light again, because if I don't see it, maybe it won't be real.

It's everywhere - the kitchen, my living room, my fucking bedroom.

I'd left a Rihanna poster on the floor in my bedroom; I must be a sucker for punishment, because I'm staring at it, the remainder of the poster lying on the floor, my idols face distorted by the water causing the ink to run.

I feel anger directed at no one in particular rising in my chest, and I know exactly what's happening; my neighbour from above has a leak which has decided to flood out my apartment. Again. After she told me
That the plumber said that it'd been fixed for sure. And I really don't want to go over to Marcus's because he's kind of a loud fucker. The last time I went there, he fucked a prostitute the whole goddamn night, and he was so fucking loud. I couldn't sleep. Never again. To make things worse, he has a girlfriend now. Just thinking of that awkward next morning makes me cringe internally.

And to think that he has the luxury of buying pussy with my money, when I can barely afford to pay my light bill...

I really need some friends. Some good friends, who I can go to when my house is flooded or my light is cut off.

I take a quick moment to reflect on my life. Actually, no. Fuck that.

So I pull out my phone and call a number I never thought I'd dial.

"Leah," he answers on the second ring, making me feel partially warm and partially nervous. This isn't a very small favour that I'm about to ask him.

"Hi, David. Can I come over? I need a place to stay."