Tash takes a deep breath in and closes her eyes, trying to calm the fury and frustration bubbling up inside her.
Why the fuck does IKEA make this shit so difficult to put together!
She has been sitting on the floor of her little apartment for hours, finally dragging the flat-packed furniture she collected from the never ending homewares store and hurling it into a cab.
She is as independent as they come, self sufficient and capable... but one trip to IKEA has her seriously questioning her inner strength.
She tries one last time to attach the metal leg of the little grey chair to the seat but when the screw flicks out and lands on the other side of the room she throws down the ridiculously small Allen key and accepts defeat.
She thinks it's pathetic that in that moment she wishes Dylan were here to help, but then again maybe it isn't Dylan she misses but someone who cared, in general. She had picked up the pieces of her last failed romance that had only lasted a few short months, having fallen pretty hard and fast for Dylan, a banker who was five years her senior.
He was successful and inspiring, the kind of guy who was a little arrogant but in a way she found impossibly sexy. He seemed so put together and in control and had always made her feel secure even though she didn't need it, it was nice to have. Imagine her horror when she surprised him one night at his house to find the wife he never mentioned call her a home wrecker and throw a glass of red wine all over her new white top.
This seemed to be a reoccurring pattern, not necessarily being the other woman but being cheated on. She didn't understand why, but considering it happened every single time, she was starting to think she had some sort of significant flaw that made her impossible to stay faithful to or maybe she just wasn't enough? She wants to be enough.
Tash shakes the negative thoughts from her mind as she stands up and stretches her arms above her head, she is a positive person, despite men continuously fucking her over, and she wasn't going to let them dull her sparkle.
She looks around her little study area that is lofted above her kitchen table that has two stools metal sitting on one side, it is different from the rest of her apartment, she needs it to be a clean, uncluttered space where she can work and not be distracted. Her little white desk has black steel legs, making it look rustic and industrial when in reality it came from Pottery Barn, her MacBook sits proudly in front of a black wire rack in a checkerboard pattern with dozens of photos clipped to it, ever changing with images of inspiration depending on the job she was working on at the time.
Her studio apartment below is kind of the opposite, cramped but homely, it has old timber floors and high ceilings accented by white walls and black framed windows and a door that leads to a tiny balcony with a horrible view of a brick wall.
Her taste could be described as slightly bohemian, casual and warm, it was authentic to her personality which was the same and it translated effortlessly into the way she spoke and worked and dressed.
There is barely any free space in her tiny apartment, indoor plants in cute little pots cover most available surfaces and a knitted cushion that says GOOD VIBES is thrown on the two seater couch.
Her bed fits into a little nook in the corner, shelves on one side hold frames with books, prints of art she loves and quotes that inspire her and another plant while the other wall is covered in polaroids and a single hook that holds a tan fedora with a navy grosgrain ribbon around it.
It was small but it was hers, and she loved coming home to a place she felt safe and warm in especially when the outside world didn't seem to be as kind.
She looks outside her window to see the sun starting to set against the buildings surrounding her, she knows she should probably cook something for dinner but to be honest after the last few hours of dealing with IKEA she couldn't think of anything worse.
She pulls white converse onto her feet and tucks the hem of a chunky grey knit into the front of her vintage blue Levi's. She fluffs up her hair and smacks on some lip balm before turning to grab her fedora off the hook and deciding against it at the last minute.
The smoothie shop is only a couple of blocks away and even though she tells herself it isn't really a substantial dinner she convinces herself it is probably a healthier option than the chinese food she would have preferred.
She is lost in her own thoughts as she strolls home, contemplating a job for a new client that is due next week and sucks the thick green liquid through a straw before her toe gets caught in uneven pavement and has her taking two stumbling steps forward to stay upright.
Embarrassment paints her cheeks red as she waves off friendly strangers asking if she's all right before realising half of her green smoothie is now trickling down her sweater.
"Shit," she hisses to herself as she attempts to wipe herself down with the tiny paper napkin the juice bar gave her.
She looks around haphazardly as she sucks a sticky finger into her mouth and makes a b-line for a little bar that looks open and relatively welcoming.
"Hi! Do you have a couple of napkins I can have? I'm a klutz!" She asks the bartender who looks sympathetically at her and obliges right away, pointing to the direction of the bathrooms if she preferred to try and wash it out but she politely declines, explaining briefly that she lives around the corner and just needs to try and wipe it off and go home before she caused anymore accidents today.
She has walked past this bar maybe a dozen times since she moved to the area but has never thought to walk inside. It's warm and rustic, with exposed brick walls that give it a New York warehouse vibe while patrons sit on old school barstools that look like they have been picked up and repainted from a flea market. Dark stained timber, quirky pendant lights that hang all around and a vintage chesterfield couch add depth and a homey feel to what would otherwise be a huge sterile room.
Tash notices a guy standing at the far end of the bar, his back is towards her and he is signing off on a delivery, his curls creeping out underneath a navy beanie and she notices a cross tattooed into the pad between his index finger and thumb.
Harry looks around just after Tash turns to leave, her long chestnut hair that is slightly blonder at the ends is draped over her shoulders and he takes a moment to watch with intrigue as she half walks half skips out of the bar, tempted for some inexplicable reason to run after her and catch a glimpse of her features but stops himself as he is reminded of his tall, blonde and brainless type.
"Ey mate, do you know that girl?" he asks his barman nonchalantly, hoping to hear that she's married or got some weird character flaw that would turn him off even if he did stop her.
"Nuh sorry man, never seen 'er before but she was a hottie don't you think?" He gloats as Harry bites the side of his mouth.
"Yeah?" he shrugs, convincing himself it didn't matter and there would be a hundred girls just like her standing in front of him in a couple of hours.
A/N:
What do you guys think so far?
I think Tash is super cute!!
Let me know your thoughts. Updates every Monday and Thurs! Love Ruby xx
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