Infinite

Home Sweet Home

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Home is where my heart lies
And my body takes its rest
Where I cry when I don't pass one of life's tests
Home is the place I want to be
When I feel alone or need to be free
Home sweet home
Home sweet home, come follow me
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Carrie could not believe her room in the Artists' Residence. It was larger than she thought it would be, not that she ever tried to imagine it. Her life had been pretty crazy the last couple months. And that did not include the hoards of reporters that wished to know every part of her life and her father's life.

To the left of the door was a kitchen, fully stocked with every appliance they would need to make their own meals. And they didn't seem to be much more than a few years old, all a glittering silver color she knew to be stainless steel. A table with just enough room for four souls sat across from the kitchen against the opposing wall. Past that was a small living room. At least, that was what she considered it to be, with two large couches and a coffee table between them. Windows framed the back wall, however she noticed the lack of a TV. That could surely be remedied. She hadn't forgotten about the other five doors around the room, but knew she would see inside each soon enough.

Of course, Carrie didn't expect someone to burst out from one of the doors, which she guessed to be a room. "You must be Carolyn. I'm Elle. Short for Eloisa, but don't call me that. It's a rather dull name, too proper, though I'm sure that's what my mother was planning on. You're the only other person to show up in our apartment. In case you didn't notice, we've got two other roommates. Your name just switched with someone else, so I'm not sure how much you know about all of us. I'm majoring in Animation, and our other two roommates are majoring in Communication Design and Photography. What major are you again?" Elle seemed to never stop talking. It was a big change from her friend group back in L.A., but she didn't mind. She was there to make new friends.

"I'm doing SIM. Studio for Interrelated Media. It is exactly what I did at home." She didn't mention that she had nearly gone to Berklee alongside her best friend to study music performance. But, even so, music never pulled at her like art did. MassArt was where she wanted to go, and no doubts lingered in her mind.

"Not bad. I think our little group of people will be a lot of fun." If their personalities continued to be as diverse as just the two of them were, she would have to agree.

"So, who are our other two roommates? I didn't ever see your guys' names when I got the emails with my new assignments." After her third reassignment, she didn't bother to check the portal—it was too much work just for it to change again and welcomed the surprise. "I got reassigned six times."

"Oh. Ew. That sounds horrible." Elle shuddered, her blue-tipped brown curls moving in tandem. "Porter and Karter are our other roommates." Carrie didn't know what to think. They could be guys' names used for girls—such as Trey—or they were actually guys. "Did you get the memo that this is a co-ed apartment?"

"I... I guess it might've been in the fine print. That I didn't read. I don't know. But, no I didn't know that." Carrie couldn't tell whether she minded or it made a difference in her life. "It's cool. But, if I end up with one of the two of them like in those romance novels, I— it will not be pretty."

"Actually, it'd be pretty cute." Elle turned around, heading back to her room. "Just saying!" Carrie looked behind her to the growing pile of boxes that were her life. The only things she needed to become a college student and live and breathe art.

She didn't want to go home at all. Not a single day. Her father needed time on his own to recuperate and figure out what to do with his life. Without music and performing in his life, she'd watched him fall apart. And he needed the space to grow and explore and enjoy his abrupt retirement. She promised him that she would call, but would not step foot in his mansion until he had told her that he had found something. His meditation and therapy sessions did not count.