With Love

Pilot Chapter

The pitter patter of the rain wakes me as it hits my tin roof, was it raining when I went to bed last night? I ask myself, maybe those extra two glasses of Pinot were just the remedy for sleep I needed. I roll over tiresome, patting around my bedside cabinet for my phone. 11:32am my phone reads - that Pinot really did do a number on me. I scroll aimlessly through my social media, double tapping quotes and photos plastered through my timeline from family members to old high school friends. I wonder what she's doing now? Crosses my mind as each former 'it' girl's photo passes beneath my thumbs as I continuously scroll through my feed. She's pregnant - she's engaged? It seems everyone's life's falling into place... And mine? Don't compete where you don't compare! I curse myself. My face feels oily and my stomachs grumbling, I look at the time 12:46pm. I immediately lose the battle of hunger to hygiene and decide to run myself a shower.

As I step out onto the bathmat beneath me, I savour the warmth before goosebumps slowly travel across me as my skin hits the cool air outside of my warm day-dreaming bubble, the shower that is. My natural brunette ringlets are swept up into a tight bun accompanied by a scrunchie before they have time to dry and go all 'Carrie Bradshaw' on me. With the towel still wrapped around me, I make my way down my spiralled stair case to the kitchen and boil the kettle to make myself a cup of coffee. My stomach growls again so I make some toast, throw my coffee down and scramble through the unfolded washing in my lounge room to find something suitable to wear in this downpour of rain. I accompany my denim jeans with a mustard sweater and black & white polka-dot scarf, I quickly admire my appearance in my full length mirror, shoes, you need shoes! I would lose my head if it wasn't screwed on. I zip up my nude knee length boots, admire myself once more and attempt to make my way out of my apartment complex, keys, check, bag, check, cellphone, check, I mentally check off everything I need before I throw myself out into the cool New York air. I juggle my belongings, trying to get my key into the door to lock it, did you grab your laptop? It's in your car. Is it? Yes. Are you sure? I debate with myself once more before deciding I did in fact leave it under the seat of my car.

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My fingers dance skilfully over the plastic keys, the keys singing out like a chorus of doors on a faulty latch. The bell of the cafe door chimes in the background time and time again, my coffee mug never getting under half empty, or half full, be a fucking optimist Sophia! As the kind waitress abides by my request and continues to fill it up until I can get this last chapter done. Typing, typing, typing. Backspace, backspace, backspace. Frustration takes over, this chapter is never going to get finished. I crack my fingers and take a large pity-filled gulp of my coffee before grabbing my phone out of my bag for the first time since placing my procrastinating-arse in this cafe. 4:27pm, fuck, I cuss under my breath, I need to get this chapter to my editor by 6pm. My phone chimes, I have a message from Sam. Wait, why do I have a message from Sam?

'How much do you hate yourself this morning? Sam X.' The text reads, I can feel my heart in my throat, what? I scroll up through our most previous text messages, my cheeks flush as I see all the intimate photos and text messages shared between us both last night. Fuck those two extra glasses of Pinot. I mentally debate whether or not to reply but before I know it my fingers are typing away 'Don't flatter yourself, it was the wine, please disregard last nights stunts. Shouldn't you be working? Or hardly working I should say.' I smile to myself as I press send to my witty reply, my mind drifts off to Sam, the sex, the dates, the arguments, the sex. Sam and I are, or were for a better choice of words, always in the 'Grey' area of dating. I couldn't even call us Friends With Benefits, because our short lived affair had a very small amount of benefits, all sex aside, and I'm not sure we were or ever will be friends. His tall and broad frame comes to mind, his soft lips, dark hair but bright blue eyes. I can still feel him, our bodies entwined, he's a dick! My subconscious reminds me. I hate her sometimes. I peer down at my phone, he hasn't text me back. Typical. You don't want him to text you back! My subconscious is annoying but she's right, I shake my thoughts of Sam and raise my hand for the waitress to come top up my coffee before I attempt to get back to finishing this fucking chapter.