Chapter 2

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It was love at first sight at last sight, at ever and ever sight.
-Vladimir Nabokov, lolita.

'This is awesome! Damn girl. I wish I lived in an apartment rather than the crummy dorms. My roommate is a nightmare.' Brenda states, staring at the apartment complex where I live with a look of pure envy.

'You'll miss her eventually. It's so quiet here. No one to talk to.' I shrug, shielding my eyes against the harsh glare of the sun as I stare up at the complex.

'I'm someone to talk to. I could move in with you right now if you want. Damn, what I would give to live here.' She sighes dreamily.

'Okay, stop drooling over the building. Don't you want to see inside? Come on.' I chuckle at her cloud nine expression.

'Why didn't you say so since? What are we waiting around here for?' She grins, dragging me into the building.

The elevator ride up to my floor is filled with coos and breathy gasps about how living in an apartment while you're in college is the absolute gift from heaven.

'How did you even end up staying here anyway?' She asks as I jiggle my key in the lock of my door.

'Remember Leo?' I ask.

'The hottie from lunch? Of course I remember him.' She replies eagerly.

'Well I need a lot of space plus a studio for my painting so my brother asked him to help me find a suitable apartment and he recommended this apartment complex.' I shrug, pushing the door open.

'This place is awesome.' She declares, heading in to explore every inch of my barely furnished apartment.

'So hottie lives here too?' She calls out from the kitchen.

I lock the door behind me and head to my room.

'I don't think so. I haven't seen him around but I've only been here a few days so who knows?' I shrug, placing my bag at the foot of my bed.

I remove my jacket and throw it on the bed before heading back to the foyer.

'Your apartment is epic.' Brenda states.

She's reclining on the sofa, the only furniture I have in the living room so far. Apart from a small table and two beanbags.

'Thanks.' I sit on the red beanbag.

'You should decorate though.' She wrinkles her nose. 'As an interior designer in the making, I can confidently tell you your home lacks personality. Heck, it lacks signs of life.'

'Thanks.' I mutter sarcastically, smacking her face with a throw pillow.

She laughs and throws it back at me.

'But, I have to say, your paintings are amazing. It's very advanced. I'm impressed.' She compliments.

'Thanks.' I beam.

My paintings might as well be an extension of me. I'm very insecure about myself but when it comes to my paintings, I make sure it's perfectly perfect.

'Your studio is the only properly furnished room in this entire apartment. It's like you live and breath art.' She smiles.

'I kind of do.' I reply.

'Well, you're good at it. Plus, who am I to judge? My room and the attic back at home are filled with issues of Architectural Digest, Home Décor and the likes. They're my babies.'

'You're kidding.' I laugh. 'My mom hoards our attic like it's her room. I think she wants to turn it into something like an mini spa.'

'That would be so dope.' She declares.

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