On The Scale Of

Chapter 1

Like a broken CD record, the text message I've received a few minutes ago kept repeating in my head.

He's on his way there, the text wrote.

I'd like to think of it as a mantra. With it, I willed myself to move faster. To release myself of this slow pacing. But I can't. Laziness is too strong within me. Especially when I've just woken up. Fudge, I need a less demanding life.

He's on his way there.

No need to panic, I tell myself. The café is probably not farther from me than it is to him. It's fine. He's on the process of going there, sure, but a process takes a long time. It has a beginning, a middle and an end. It's gonna be a drag to cover all of those areas. He's probably taking his time, enjoying the views of this horrid town.

He's arrived, the next message wrote.

Well, shit.

Cold sweat slid down my forehead as I double-checked my stuff and made sure I brought everything I needed. Any second spent here is suicide. I hefted my guitar case on my back and jerked open the door. It creaked rather loudly and I bet it almost woke up half of the senior citizens living in this apartment.

Phew! I haven't even left my room yet and I already had my eyes bugged out in annoyance. It was only four in the afternoon, but the oldies are already snoozing their way to dreamland. And I know very well how cranky they get if they're disturbed.

I stepped out of my room, fighting a grimace off my face as I slowly closed the door. For some reason, the damn creak has escalated in terms of its loudness. Once fully shut, I secured the door with two locks. Just as I was turning to leave, the door next to my room flew open.

"Dearie, where are you going?" A raspy voice declared, "Dinner's almost ready."

I suppressed a groan and watched as the old woman beckon me inside of her weird smelling room, where her TV was booming with the grueling news of the weather.

"It's mighty fine, Miss Harrington. I was just passing by the neighborhood and-"

"Nonsense! Come, come. I made casserole. They don't feed you kids as much as we did back in the days." She waved me off as she sluggishly dragged the soles of her feet inside and left the door open.

"I have an appointment with my... um... I have diarrhea. Bye!"

I swiftly moved to shut her door close and it felt a bit unfair that it didn't creak as loudly as mine.

Now that that was done, I sprinted down to the many stairs of the apartment and to the ground floor and out of the building in a flash. Various smells around the vicinity overwhelmed me. I was tempted to use a shortcut but I couldn't bother using the faulty elevator after hearing about the rumors that someone had died there, so it's my damn right not to risk my life riding it. Imagine having the most anticlimactic death ever.

Catching my breath, I gagged at the smoke that someone puffed while passing me. I ought to snatch his cigarette and stuff it down his throat. But he was already far from me so meh.

To say that I enjoy this part of town would be like saying vaccines cause autism. As in, it's bullshit. Mostly because people here tend to lash out more often because they're near a huge construction site. The old ones are apparently insensitive when it comes to outside noise since they sleep like the dead. But others are less tolerant. I only rented a room here because it was cheap and well hidden. Two of my most favorite words.

Aw, hell. I forgot I have a date. I started running ass off, taking the fastest route to my destination. I did not mean to be late. Sure I overslept, but no one needs to know that. I rounded the corner of Just A Bakery, narrowly missing a bicycler and a dog walker. I also had two honks at me when I crossed First Avenue. It was when I was running out of breath fast that I realized I really need to work out more.