What You Needed

Chapter 3

As Harry leads me up the stairs, I notice how dirty the whole building is. The walls that look like they were once white are covered in this black muck and mildew, the carpet is leaking this awful stench of rotten fruit which has been tried to be covered up by cheap cleaning product. It really hasn't helped. I try to ignore my first impressions of his home, I wouldn't want him to think I'm a stuck up snob who makes judgements on a person by their house. He must live on one of the top floors, because it feels like we've been trailing up these stairs for ages.

"I can tell your first impressions aren't great but trust me, my apartment is in much better condition than this dump." He says as if he could read my thoughts.

"Nah Harry, it's fine." I say.

After another two flights of stairs we finally reach his apartment, I have to take a moment to catch my breath as I haven't walked up that many stairs for a while. Harry is obviously used to it as he doesn't seem out of breath at all.

Once he opens the door, I walk in to see that it's quite small, it looks like a 1 bedroom apartment but it has a cosy vibe to it. A small kitchen is hidden away in the corner but directly in front is what appears to be his studio. The wooden floor is covered in paint and so is the brick wall, except that is covered in graffiti that's been built up over the years. It's pretty cool to be honest, but I bet his landlord wouldn't like it, unless he actually owns the apartment which would also be pretty cool. Right now I'm living with my mum and it's difficult because even though I'm nineteen, she's still really strict. That's why I was staying with my friend Jess for the weekend, to escape from her constantly breathing over my shoulder.

I look over to Harry to see he's staring directly at me, waiting for my opinion on his apartment. All I can think about is how his landlord would kill him if he saw the state of this place, so I decide to stay quiet and let him speak.

"Hm that's funny, I was sure you would have some snarky comment to say about my place." He laughs as he places his bag down on the leather chair sitting in the centre of his 'studio'.

"It's cool but do you have a living room?" I ask, trying not to sound too judgemental.

"I'm a college student, Billie. Do you really think I can afford an apartment with a studio and a living room?"

I sit down on the leather chair, carefully shuffling his bag to the side.

"Oh yeah, suppose not." I reply, unable to take my eyes of all of his work scattered along the wall.

"Do you like it?" He says with a raspy tone in his voice, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, you're actually really good."

"Oh wait let me show you something." He says, before shoving open one of the drawers open and hastily searching through piles of sketches and drawings. I try to have a good look at all of them but he's moving too quickly to me to see. He continues to search for something and I notice the growing frustration on his face as he frantically tears through every sheet of paper he can see.

"What? Where the fuck is it?" He says, trying to contain his anger.

"Is it in one of the other drawers?" I ask, keeping calm as I watch him still looking.

"No, they only have scraps and cans in them!" He shouts slamming the drawer shut which causes me to jump.

"Harry, it's alright, just describe it to me." I say, attempting to calm him down as I begin to grow more worried by the second. What if this guy is crazy? What was I thinking just coming back to his apartment, I don't have the slightest clue to who he actually is.