Not So Easy

Chapter 1

It was finally dark when I stepped outside for the first time today. I ran up the stairwell to breath in the crisp outside air as quickly as I could. I open the heavy door to an empty roof, lined with patio chairs and a large free space in the middle. I carry my blanket over to the middle and lay it out on the cold concrete. My pillow is next as it hits the ground the blanket drapes over. I lie down and do my favourite activity at the end of my long week. Nothing.

I stare at the sky on this especially starry night. The stars are usually not this bright in Miami, but I suppose I chose a particularly good night. I bring my journal out of my bag and write my weekly letter.

Dear Mom,

Nothing has changed for me. I am still unhappy, and overworked and tired of being nothing to anyone. I am ashamed of the way that I feel about life, which is why I will continue to plaster this smile across my face, until I physically can't take it anymore. I'm saving this journal for you in the hope that you can understand me, rather than feel guilt as though it was your fault. In the event that I do what I feel like doing everyday but don't, I want only your eyes to read this journal, but do what you will with what I wrote. Sometimes I feel like it is getting better, only for something to hit me harder than the previous thing and it all comes crashing down again.

Anyways, here is my weekly update. I am still single, haven't spoken to a man in that way since Jacob and I don't think I ever will. He took the easy way out, so whose to say I can't? Work is hard, I feel like I am failing myself, even though my feedback doesn't reflect that. It may be good work, but I don't feel good doing the work, and at what point can that become more important than the money I get from it. I can't decide what I want with this life, I just feel so empty since he left me.

I hope you and dad are well. I also hope you're not giving the new pup a hard time, make sure he gets enough exercise. Oh, and don't let dad feed him, he always gives him extra food that I can't imagine is good for him. I love you guys forever.

- Sienna

I close the journal and place it back in my bag. I finally lay my head back on the pillow and watch the stars and listen to the cars drive on the road below. The skyline of Miami is beautiful, even on a Sunday night. This city is one of those that never sleeps, but I feel like it doesn't get the recognition it deserves. I have dreamt of living anywhere other than New Jersey for so long, but I didn't expect to end up in one of the busiest cities in America. But here we are. I guess that's what happens when you accept a job before checking the logistics of it.

"Why is this door so damn heavy?" a deep voice asks.

I sit up and shift my head to the door. Two men emerge from the door and turn to walk to the opposite side of the roof, without noticing the obvious woman sitting fifteen feet in front of them.

If I saw these men on the streets of Miami at night, they were the type to make me switch to the other side of the street. They were both fairly tall, one more than the other. Both in black t-shirts and shorts, they sit on the patio chairs facing the city, away from me. I begin to stand up in an attempt to leave before this becomes an interaction when I hear their chatter stop.

"Hello?" one says getting out of his chair.

He begins to tread over to me, and fear takes over. My body stills, and my pessimistic attitude makes up 100 scenarios in my head of how this will end.

"Hey" I reply shakily as I gather my things, "I was just leaving."

"Oh, no need!" he says as his face comes in the light.

Wow. I did not expect for him to be attractive, or myself to be attracted to him this much. My body is telling me to impulsively do something that my mind hasn't caught up with yet.

"I'm Sienna," I say as I shakily put my hand out to shake his.

"Marcus, and this is Kian." He points to the taller friend that walks up behind him.

Kian nods his head at me and looks away toward the skyline that I was looking at.

"Do you live in this building?" Marcus asks me as I put my pillow back on the blanket. I want to see how this plays out.

"Yeah, 21st floor. What about you guys?" I ask.

"Yeah, I do, Kian is just here tonight, he lives a few blocks down." He explains.

We continue the casual conversation until I find myself getting along quite well with Marcus. Kian, however, remains fairly quiet, answering a question or chiming in every so often, almost as though he's only doing it out of courtesy. I ignore his resilience and focus my attention on Marcus. Half an hour goes by and I know almost everything there is to know about Marcus, and maybe three things about Kian.

"Do you guys want to stop by for a drink?" I ask as we all stand to leave.

"Su-" Marcus is cut off by Kian,

"I think we'll call it a night it's getting late." Kian states as he begins walking to the heavy door.

"Okay yeah no problem." I say as we all head toward the stairwell.

We reach the 21st floor and I say goodbye to both and enter my apartment. My spotless white apartment appears as how I left it and I begin to put my things away from the roof. I reach for the journal first and place it in the drawer of my bedside cabinet and lock it. I place the key under my lamp and put the blanket and pillow back in my closet. I sit down on my couch and turn the TV on to watch some Netflix before I head to bed. I leave my windows open in my apartment because the cities lights are one of the only reasons keeping me here. For some perspective, I live in one of the most expensive high rises in Miami, fully funded by myself. Judging by my age, most believe mommy and daddy buy me this luxury, but I take full pride in my career. While I do take pride in my career, it is also one of the reasons I don't want to be here anymore. I work for a firm that promotes the statement "the rich get richer". I'm a Junior Partner at Spencer Tate and while I am good at my job, I hate it. Everyone there knows what we do, and we are used purely by the richest, for the reason that our best work is done for them. It sickens me that we continue to toss aside cases that need our help, or produce settlements that can't be refused, that only allow for the wealthier to get wealthier, even if sometimes they are wrong. It is a cut-throat business, and I can't get out of there now, I'm too deep.

Anyways, that's the boring part of my life. There is a lot more that is far more exciting, but I don't love to share that with just anyone. Only one person knows the exact events of my life told by me, and that was Jacob. I'll never get that feeling back, with anyone.