The Wingman // t.h.

Part Five - the one in the sandwich shop

Why did it always have to rain in New York when you decided to go outside? You had run five blocks when you could hear the thunder above your head. Not much later, the pitter-patter of water droplets around you and you could feel them fall on top of your head. People started to appear under umbrellas. Your mind went to that song you heard continuously yesterday.

You have my heart, and we'll never be worlds apart.

The lyrics echoed through your head as you slowed down your step. There was no point in running away from it, you were already soaked.

Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star.

Your arms started shivering as a wind blew by. The Autumn weather was finally catching up to the city. The rain fell faster and faster. It actually started to hurt. You had to look down at the ground, hiding your face from the rain and harsh wind. Looking at the ground you did your best not to bump into anything or anyone. That didn't go so well. Already after a few steps, your shoulder hit someone else's. You mumbled an apology and walked on. Your eyes on the ground at all times. The blustery weather only got worse as you neared the hotel again.

The door was opened for you quickly. The temperature change made your body shiver. It was so warm, almost not natural. You wiped the water that had collected itself on your face off. The sound of the rain made you turn around. It looked like a solid wall of water pouring down on the streets.

"Had a good morning jog, miss?" The older man next to the door chuckled. You laughed along with him. "Well, there is nothing like a good morning shower, isn't there?" The man nodded with an amused agreeing. Over the few short days of your stay, you had become quite friendly with the staff. You thought it was a decent thing to do, seeing you were staying in the hotel for a good two weeks.

With one more smile, you made your way to your room. Still wanting to have some exercise, you decided to take the stairs. You regretted the decision as soon as you reached the second floor. The wet material of your trousers was sticking to every inch of your body and you could feel the burn already on your thighs. This was going to be a hell later on.

With the pain in your legs, you kept on walking until you reached your door. You pulled out the key from your pocket, thank god you didn't lose it. It would have been the icing on the cake that was this bad morning. It wasn't even that bad but your mind just wasn't in the positive mindset. You kept thinking about the phone. After it had died you put it in the backpack. If only you weren't such an idiot, you could have just answered the phone and who knows what could have happened. Would you be preparing yourself for a date right now, instead of pulling off the wet clothes from your body? Would you be texting him instead of turning on the hot shower?

You were about to step into the glass cubicle, some of the water already softly bounding off your skin. Then there was a knock on your door. It almost made you slip on the tiled floor. As you picked up the white robe that hung next to the door and threw it over your body there was one more knock. Quietly, in case you didn't feel like opening the door, you walked up to it and leaned to take a peek through the peephole. It was James. He knocked a third time. You opened it just enough so you could see each other's faces. There was no need for accidental wardrobe malfunctions. Especially that you had barely any clothes on in the first place.

James had a tray in his hands. How you had not seen that sooner was a mystery. "Sorry, James, I think there has been a mistake. I didn't order anything."

"No, ma'am. This was-" Your feet were getting cold and as you heard the water in the shower running, you realized you left it on.

"Sorry, but I really don't have the time for this. Can you come back later?" James opened his mouth, just to close it again quickly. A second later he spoke anyway. Probably something else than he originally had in mind.