Apartment 105

Chapter 1

I don't have OCD per-say, nor am I a 'control freak.' I just... like things a certain way. I have a set way of doing things and getting along and it's nice and it's comfortable. It's safe. Which doesn't really make sense either because I'm also not one to pass down on dares or late night adventures to the middle of nowhere.

Maybe it is more about control than anything; I don't like to get drunk because I can't control what I'm doing or saying. But it could also just be a stability thing; I like to have a morning routine that involves set times and designated breakfast foods that all lead to leaving for work with an extra 5 minutes to spare by the time I get there because, well, that's stability.

Whatever I am, for whatever reason, I can usually plan out my day - which is apart of my 5 minute coffee time - and not in a boring way where everything is supposed to go one way and it's all predictable, but in a way where just the gist of it is quite clear.

I wake up, I have coffee, I shower, I eat, I brush my teeth, I change, I do my makeup and hair and then I'm off to work. At work it's all making coffee and taking orders. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get a couple of flirtatious customers and no obnoxious ones complaining about their coffee being too hot or not hot enough and unfortunately for me it's usually just the latter.

Lucky for me though, rude customers and all, things usually work out and of course as soon as the clock hits 4 in the afternoon I'm free to go home and see whatever mess my friend Michael gets us both into for the day.

However, today has been a little different for a few reasons actually. One, I somehow slept through my alarm completely setting back my whole morning routine and making me 5 minutes late for work. Two, I managed to miss my bus home so I was sat waiting for an hour for the next bus. And three - the icing on the cake.

"What's with all the furniture?" I ask my brightly colored hair friend with creased eyebrows. The big truck with people pulling various furniture and boxes out was kind of hard to miss on my way into our apartment complex. "New guy," he hums, standing by the residents' mail boxes. I stop mid-unlocking my box. "Not.." I trail off pointedly. He grins wickedly with a smug hum.

"No," I groan. "It was so nice not having anyone there, I'll bet he's just as bad as Alan," I huff, grabbing my mail. "Nah, he's probably worst," Michael - my friend - smirks. "Stop looking so smug Clifford, this just means I'll be over even more to bug you." "I wont let you in," he shrugs easily. "I'll bang on the door until you do," I counter. "I'll put my earphones in." "I'll get your neighbours to hate you." "They already know you and they all love me," he says matter-of-fact.

I roll my eyes, stomping up the stairs - because of course the elevator isn't working - and grumble out a we need more girls around here that has Michael cackling.

I'm not controlling. I just hate that not only is there someone moving into the apartment I thought would be empty for longer than 2 weeks, but nothing has gone my way for the day and I'm ready to sleep and start tomorrow over the way it's supposed to go.

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Blah, bear with me here, I promise it'll start getting interesting next chapter!