☕︎Vacancy☕︎ ~Reupload~

~2~

It was a lot more peaceful being here than at that huge lonely house full of strangers.

But as typical, there was always something missing.

I never felt fulfilled. Never truly accompanied. And perhaps, it was due to the fact that I've never been properly accompanied since my brother's death. I mean, I had my personal butler, Deane.

Deane was an amazing man, extremely attractive. His aura was always so regal, but not obnoxiously so. He smelled rich, and his presence was always welcome.

There were the many times when I'd wished I could have just fallen in love with the man. After all, it wasn't as though he didn't love me just a bit more than as his master. It was simply the fact that all we ever had for each other was simply sexual fascination, and Deane working for me after such a thing would never just, work out.

Maybe it was time that I'd done my own exploring. My own exploration of a society in the flesh.  I was tired of staring at the same four walls all of the time despite just moving here. There was nothing to do, no one to really talk to. And certainly, no one to share the warmth and comfort of a bed with.

I mean, could you believe it? Nineteen-year-old Granger King was still a virgin. And it's not as though I've never sexualized men. Not as though I've never dreamt about them, wanted to get with them.

It was simply the fact that I've never truly been attracted to another before. And I didn't mean a simple crush. I meant a devastating 'you're my temporary everything' crush.

Though, that wasn't exactly my fault. I'd been isolated after all, and it was such a rare occurrence that I met someone new who didn't work for my parents somehow in someway.

It was as though my parents had a hand in every little aspect of my life, no matter how much they didn't care for me.

But it was only because they couldn't have their youngest borne ruin their company name. Their vision for bigger and better was for their other children, and they needed to consistently keep me out of it.

If that meant never having friends, that's what happened. If it meant never finding love, that's what happened. And those were things that I wanted to change. I finally wanted to go out and do something for myself. Do something that would make me happy, something that would benefit my needs, my wants.

And no, I didn't want to just go out and hook up with some random guys all over town, carrying who knows what and doing things with who knows who.

But maybe I should start getting to know people. Learn how to interact with those around me. Make some friends, learn some things. Go buy junk food just because. I wanted to experience some of the things that normal teens experienced. While I was still a teen myself.

I wanted to go to a party, get drunk or something, dance as though I've never figured out proper coordination.

I wanted to live and find someone to love me. Or something that could come to love me, just as I to them.

It was time, that I started dating. And befriending. Living.

It should be no problem, right? I just walk out of the door, tell Deane where I'm going, and then get there and run into someone.

Should be simple.

Right...

I got out of bed and finally made my way into the bathroom despite it already being noon. After handling my business, I washed my hands before I started running the shower.

Can't go out in public dirty, need to smell good to feel good. I nod and undress out of my sweats and t-shirt, stepping beneath the showerhead into warm water.

I sighed as I leaned my forehead against the cool tile, letting the water cascade down over my back, helping me relax out of the tense stature anxiety kept me in. A good few minutes of that before washing up thoroughly and rinsing off.

Maybe only fifteen minutes went by before I was wrapping a slightly damp towel around my waist and standing before the full body mirror on the inside of my bathroom door.

I wasn't skinny, but I would never call myself built either because I wasn't. I was tall like my brothers, but unlike my brothers, I seemed to have the femininity of my mother. My face wasn't all angles and sharp, but I had high cheekbones, a fairly defined jawline. My lips were red, my nose wasn't bad, and my eyes were, well, my eyes.

My eyes weren't like my father's or my mother's, but they weren't like my grandparents' either. Maybe it was a recessive gene passed down so far, I was just lucky to have such a unique color from the rest of my family.

Father had hazel eyes, which most of my siblings got, my mother had blue eyes as my favorite brother had, and I just had sea-green eyes that popped out because my lashes were so thick and lengthy. My eyebrows were full, but nothing near disgusting and surprise, no facial hair. So yeah, I looked like my mom with green eyes and dark curly shoulder-length hair.

Was I attractive? I wouldn't go as far as to call myself ugly. But maybe someone out there found my looks none-too appealing. I mean, my mother was a very beautiful woman after all despite how cold and heartless she was.

I shook my head then grabbed my brush as I left my bathroom, going over to my closet to find something to wear.

I'd go outside today and see what the city had to offer, just for a few hours.

💋