Greenhouse Garden [Evan Peters fanfic]

Greenhouse Garden

Dear Friend,

Sometimes I feel my heart pound, like it's coming out of my soul. My head says, "You are going to have a stroke." But my heart is just broken. Too many times I've given my heart to someone else. Too many times I've thrusted my body for somebody else. Too many times I've heard, I love you but not enough. I convinced myself I was done. No more hookups ending in toxic relationships. I was still struggling with my last breakup, Timothee. Hard one.

I put my records away on my shelf and closed the turntable. Arctic Monkeys were still playing in my head. I glumly walked down my stairs and watched my feet trail down the golden- lit staircase. I planned on going to a party...alone. I figured if I didn't go with anyone, then I wouldn't have the tendency to sleep with a guy. I had on a plain mini dress with knee high, black platform boots. Nothing crazy. I hopped in a passing taxi and anxiously waited to arrive. 

You may be asking where all these parties are. Well, rich side of New York. Where the houses are grand and the people are bland. I have friends that live in that area, who have other friends, who invite me. The parties are full of drugs, drinking, and sex. You see that in movies, but trust me they are real. 

We pulled up into one of the rich neighborhoods. I hopped out of the taxi and searched for the numbers 1962. I looked to see a massive victorian-style home with large windows and a few cars parked outside. I fixed my hair and rang the doorbell. A girl my age opened the door and searched for my name on the list. "Gene Landons... come on in." I smiled and walked in to the dreamy home. The owner of the house was named Evan Peters. Apparently he went to high school with my friend Laura. The sun was still going down and people were arriving more rapidly than before. I wasn't very hungry or thirsty so I wandered around the glamorous house instead. I always did that when I was bored. But I only entered rooms with open doors, just in case. 

I walked into the- what seemed like- master bedroom of the house. The large windows with sheer curtains. The ceiling was at least twenty feet high. The bed was freshly made and a coffee cup was sat on the night stand. Just when I thought the room couldn't get any bigger, I noticed another room connected. It had two arm chairs and a balcony. I gasped in astonishment of how nicely furnished everything was. I heard the living room get louder and more music playing. I smiled and wandered around other wings of the house. Spiral staircases, high-beamed ceilings, and floral sunrooms. 

I exited out the back door to view their amazing floristry. A large greenhouse in their yard full of chrysanthemums and lilies. I sniffed the fresh air and pretended it was all mine. I lived in a small apartment in the city. It was decorated nicely, but there is barely enough space for two. I admired the large, expensive space. I heard the wooden door open behind me. I whipped around and saw a guy my age standing there. "Sorry, um.. I-I was just-" I stammered.

"Don't mind me I was just going to water the plants." He said kindly. He was quiet but had a cute smile. I nodded and watched him pull out his watering can. The water sprinkled out over the plants and relieved them of thirst. I figured I should let him water the plants in peace, so I stepped out and headed over to the house again. People were crowded up in areas. In the laundry room there was a weed session. And in the half bathroom there was moaning. I didn't want to know. 

Before I decided to have a good time and get fucked up, I noticed someone familiar looking. He had longish hair, he was thin and tall. The instant he turned around I knew who he was. It was Timothee. The guy who broke my heart over a month ago. I was still in the depression stage, why do you think I'm at a party alone. I quickly scattered to a different room, hiding from him. I walked into the pantry. The pantry itself was the size of my kitchen. I snacked a little until I heard a knock on the door. I froze in my position. But there was another knock. "Yes?" I asked hoping they would say who they were.