The Hidden Pocket {ruel van dijk}

chapter two.

I wake up to somebody poking my shoulder.

"Genevieve? Wake up. We've just landed." I hear Sayeh whisper.

I slowly open my eyes. I thank her for waking me up as I yawn and stretch out my arms. She politely nods her head and then struts off in her cute little flight attendant heels. I watch until she's out of my cabin. Once she is, I shut the door and lock it. From my bag, I pull out a change of clothes. It's not supposed to be raining in Sydney, so I might as well opt for something other than a heavy coat.

I slip my coat and sweater off and instead pull a thin black sweater over my head. I change my shoes as well, slipping on a pair of sneakers. I stuff the other clothes into my bag then open them cabin door.

The exit door is open. The pilot is standing by the doorway, extending a hand to help me down the steps. I take his hand. Once I'm at the bottom and out of the jet, I thank him. The pilot helps Sayeh off of the plane too.

"Okay, Genevieve, let's load your luggage into the car. I'll go with you and your driver to your apartment, but then I'll have to come back." Sayeh says kindly.

My heart sinks when she tells me that she isn't staying at least one night. I know that I'm seventeen and I'm old enough to do stuff on my own, but in a new city (especially one like Sydney) it would be nice to have a familiar face around. Oh well.

Once all of my cases are in the trunk, we leave the airport. I watch as the jet fades out of view. My heart sinks at the sight of that as well. A part of me feels like the jet is my last connection to California. Once it's gone, there's no turning back; I'm on my own. I wince when the plane is completely out of my sight from the car window. I suddenly feel quite panicky. Why did I think it was at all a good idea to move to Sydney by myself for an entire year? I don't know anybody here and I'll be staying at my own apartment so it's not like I'll have roommates to befriend. Plus I'm a recluse. A stupid recluse who thought she was smart to do this.

This school I'll be attending isn't alleviating any of my current stress, either. It's prestigious. Only prodigies and extremely talented musicians are invited to come here. All I do is play the cello. I've seen videos on their website of some of their students. One boy in particular caught my eye. He was a pianist; possibly the best I've ever seen. He played Franz Liszt's La Campanella near flawlessly. I remember seeing the video, wondering how an academy so gifted would ever give me a scholarship. Yet here I was, sitting in the back of a town car with my cello.

We pull up to my new apartment building and I can feel the tension leaving my body. It's breathtaking. A sleek black building at least fifty stories high. I regret having second thoughts about this place. I step out of the car and tuck my hair behind my ears. I look upwards and admire the building as it glows in the night.

"Lucky girl." I hear Sayeh say from behind me.

I agree.

"Let's get you settled in." She presses a firm hand to my back and leads me inside. The lobby is even prettier than the outside. No wonder my mother makes a fortune off of her interior designing; she's spectacular at it. This building is one of her latest projects. The walls are made up of beautiful wood panels, the ceiling and floors are polished concrete, and gargantuan windows are spread throughout the walls, the glass reflecting the soft lighting from inside.

The girl at the reception desk informs me that my new apartment is on the 49th floor, right below the penthouse. She hands me sets of keys and keycards for my apartment. I thank her and then find my way into the nearest elevator. Sayeh follows me inside.

"How are you feeling, Hun?" She asks from besides me.

"Okay. A bit overwhelmed, it's kind of a lot; the apartment, the new school, the new city." I reply.

She nods her head understandingly.

"I think you'll do fantastic here. You are a great girl, Genevieve. I know I only work for your family, but I truly am proud of you and I truly do care for you." She says as she squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.

"That means the world." I say just as the elevator doors ding and open up to the 49th floor. I draw in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before sighing then rolling back my shoulders.

"This is where I leave you." Sayeh says. She doesn't leave the elevator.

I hug her quickly before waving goodbye. She watches me with loving eyes until the second the doors close all that way.

Luckily a bellboy has already brought up my luggage, I find it all standing orderly in front of my door. 49u. My apartment is towards the end of the hall, almost last. I unlock the door with one of the golden keys given to me by the lady at the front desk. The door swings open, it sits on heavy hinges. I smile slyly when I see the inside. It leads into a wide, open living area. Beautiful furniture fills the room. A kitchen is on the east side of the apartment, along with what looks like a bathroom. A small flight of stairs leads into a hallway that cannot be seen from my point of view; so I race to the other end and up the stairs. It's a single corridor with four doors; a bedroom, a guest bedroom, an office (which I will more than likely turn into a music room), and a coat closet.

I want to squeal. Even though I'm alone I won't do it, I never want to be the type of girl that squeals.

So instead, with my rush of adrenaline, I carry all of my luggage up the stairs and into my bedroom. It takes seven trips up and down to get everything. Once I'm done, I throw myself on my bed, suddenly wanting to sleep. But of course I can't sleep, it's only 9:00 at night.

I decide to instead do some shopping. I take myself and my purse with me. The location of my apartment is perfect; a generous shopping mall is only a five minute walk away, and my new school is only a fifteen minute walk away.

I find my way through the corridor, into the elevator, down through the lobby, and finally onto the busy streets. I follow the GPS on my phone to the nearest nursery. While listening to my directions, I put in some earbuds and play my classical playlist. What else is a cellist to listen to?

I was just strolling, not in any rush to go anywhere, not in any hurry to see anything. The vibe and aura in Sydney is drastically different from that of California. The landscape is different, instead of high rises crowding cities, the buildings are more spread out; the negative space filled with wide roads and lush plants and trees. The streets still manage to bustle, though. I smile to myself as I continue walking.

I finally make it to the nursery; it's a spectacular low building seemingly covered in greenery such as vines and flowers. I enter through a large door in the front.

I admire the selection here; the species of plant are also different than those of San Francisco. Flora of every color cover every wall, every shelf, every table, and even hang from the roof. I think I've found my new favorite place here; not that I had one to begin with.

:

I arrive back at my apartment an hour later, carrying a box of plants. More specifically, I arrive back at my apartment an hour later with a box containing a lemon grass plant, a string of pearls, asparagus fern, and a few of my favorite flowering plants.

My arms start to burn as I stand in the elevator. I maybe should have asked for a bag to put the box in instead of carrying the box two miles. Once the elevator doors open, I basically sprint to my apartment at the end of the hall. I'm relieved when I realize that I have to set down the box in order to get out my key and unlock the door. As I open the door, I kick the box of plants inside and shut the door. I'll deal with those tomorrow.

I check the time on my phone, it's 10:17. I opt for getting ready for bed. So I do so; I shower then brush my teeth and wash my face.

As I lay in my new bed in my new apartment, I find myself getting very anxious for tomorrow. Tomorrow is my first day at my new school; the Institution of the Classical Arts of Sydney. I look at my cello in its case across the room. Hopefully I have enough to present myself well tomorrow. I don't plan on just being a regular player; a cellist that's good but not quite spectacular. I plan on being the best cellist of the school, no matter how long it may take for me to get there.

I fall asleep quickly, even though I don't want to. I'd rather stay up all night.