Charlie
To her disliking, Charlie is awakened by the bright shine of the morning sun on her face and a relentlessly buzzing cell phone next to her ear. She waits it out, hoping it ceases in the next second. But her grogginess fades just enough for her to realize that's not a risk she can run. She is hunting for work like never before, and every call could possibly be her next project.
She finally grabs her phone with an annoyed, prolonged groan. She preps mentally before answering the call. "H--ahem. Hello?"
"Is this Charlotte Chase?"
She doesn't recognize the voice, which gives her a bit more of a jump-start. She rubs the sleep from her eyes. "This is she. May I ask who's calling?" She quickly checks the time on her screen. Nine in the morning. Jesus Christ.
"Awesome. My name is Sheila Goodall. I, uh, saw your painting on Instagram yesterday, the mermaid one you're selling."
"Yes, 'Beauty of the Deep'." She pushed herself upright. She looks around the apartment for it, wondering where it is she stored it. It's been almost two weeks since she painted that picture, and she didn't want to leave it out for Lester to claim as a chew toy. "Are you interested in buying it?" she asks her.
"Oh, hell yeah. It looks amazing. Um, I actually live here. In Bluebell, I mean. I was wondering if I could go take a look at it first. Totally understandable if you don't want me to. Stranger danger and all that."
"No, it's fine. I have nothing worth stealing anyway. Um..." She leans to the side and snatches a notebook from underneath her bed. "Okay, so when will that be?" She takes the pen out of the spiral.
"Would you be available today?"
She nods her head. "Yes, ma'am. All day."
"Perfect. Is two o'clock okay?"
She scribbles down the time. "Two is...perfect. And you said your name is Sheila Goodall?"
"Yes." Charlie can hear a hint of restrained excitement in her voice.
She scribbles the name across the top of the page. "Alright, thank you so much for calling, Sheila. I'll see you at two." She scribbles down the name of the art piece and its price under the time.
"Thank you!" she almost squeals in her ear. "Goodbye!"
"Goodbye." She hangs up and drops the phone to her lap. Finally, her paintings are selling again. Ever since she left her ex, her art's become much more lively. Now she just needed someone to ask about her photography. Especially now that her last paycheck is disappearing, and rent collection is in a month.
It takes her a moment to notice the fur-ball sitting next to the door, leash in his slobbery mouth. She raises an eyebrow. "Is it that important?" she asks Lester. She's already dreading having to leave her bed. She had no plans on taking on the day so early, but that was before money gave her a call.
Lester whines and whimpers as if to answer her question.
She puffs out her lower lip, giving in to the intense cuteness. She drags herself out of bed reluctantly. She pulls on her "Bookaholic" sweater and shuffles over to him. She clips the leash onto his collar and plants a hard kiss between his eyes. "You're lucky I love you." She opens the door wide, and he dashes down the stairs at the speed of light. She follows him at her own pace, allowing the leash to extend nearly to its limit.
He bolts out the wide-open door. The downstairs neighbors left it open, as usual, after walking their hundred-year-old beagle.
Before she can step outside, the sound of a soft crash catches her attention. It came from her left, from inside what's supposed to be an empty apartment. From what she'd been told, Apartment 1B hasn't been occupied in about four years. The landlord had said it was too unappealing. "People just don't want it," he told her. "I might as well start saying it's haunted."
YOU ARE READING
Now Matters (ON HOLD)
Fanfiction((This story is being edited. This is supposed to occur not long after the Battle at Hogwarts. I didn't take that into account.)) It's not what you did then. It's what you're doing now. That's all I care about.
