Bluefire

Impostor Syndrome

The light had completely vanished from the room when I woke up. 

The warm brownish glow of the afternoon seeping through the curtains had decayed into pitch black darkness. The only light I could see came from my phone. Seems I had gotten one message, but I didn't recognize the number. 

I reached for the bedside table and grasped blindly around, hoping to find something resembling a light switch. When that proved futile, I went for the bag resting beside me, took my phone out and used the flashlight to find a switch on the wall, which I flicked to turn the bedside lamp on. 

As that was now out of the way, I turned to my phone, tapping the light off and swiping at the message, squinting to focus my eyes back into place. The message was from an unknown number... but it was one I was glad to finally have. The fact it had taken so long to get her on my phone suddenly didn't seem to matter at all. When the person you'll spend most of your vacations with calls you, you answer (well, this case was a message... but you get the idea). 

After sighing, I expanded the notification and brought up the keyboard to reply. 

'Meet me at  Freyja's Hall Bar. 7:15 PM. Dress warm and comfy.' 

'On my way. Meet you there.' I typed in. 

Since she was telling me to dress 'warm and comfy', that meant we would be going out. I walked towards the curtain and shoved them aside to realize that even though the sun was beneath the horizon now, there was still plenty of light outside... enough that the sky was a gradient of light blue, gray and orange and I could still see the street without needing lamppost lighting. I opened the window and extended my hand outwards. It was chilly but not terribly so. I could do with just a sweater. 

So that's exactly what I threw on: thin black sweater, soft and tight so I wouldn't look bulky (it was a little sheer even... what? I do like showing off a bit. Teen model stuff and all that) and biking shorts. I threw on a white scarf and a cardigan of the same color for good measure and the same Demonia boots I used to come here and messed up my hair slightly as I checked myself out in the mirror—not too overdressed nor sloppy and boring. If I was going to be a Rich Kid of Instagram, I might as well put some effort into it. 

And it seemed I was doing pretty well in that area, at least appearance wise. Thanks free brands who sponsor me and give me free clothing! 

After I was done Narcissuing myself, I grabbed my phone and wallet (and cringed at the idea at taking my wallet and not my handbag, but the cardigan had deep pockets and a bag would look tacky) and headed for the lobby. 

As I walked towards the elevator area, I passed through a couple rooms close to mine. Some had open doors and I noticed a repeating pattern: they were all people around my age and from the looks of it, fairly wealthy. The cat was outta the bag then—these were my travel companions. There was no other way to put it. 

I saw... plenty of weird things—like a guy asking a bellboy to polish what looked like a boot collection, a girl with a Pomeranian in one hand and a gold plated iPhone on the other, phoning one of her parents to tell them they would have to send the dog somewhere... and two guys playing with Nerf Guns in their room... except that their guns shoot marshmallows. 

To be honest, they were fairly normal, if somewhat over the top, teen things... I was expecting worse. However, I was also glad that wasn't the case. 

When I approached the elevator area, I noticed several teens huddled up in a group, discussing something. Though normally I would've ignored this kind of gathering, curiosity got the best of me and I wound up peering over the shoulder of at least a couple of them. They seemed to be watching some kind of video.