Stay With Me

chapter one: alice

Alice's POV

I've always lived a simple life. Day in and day out I take the bus and go to work. Nothing fun, just some crappy desk job. New York is always painted out as a glittering glass heaven, but everyone forgets about the dark and dusty alleyways down below the skyscrapers. It's not all picture perfect.

I live in Mott Haven, a place that if you search up on google, is said to be a dangerous place. And its not wrong. I've grown used to the occasional shouting from broken couples above my room, or sudden clangs that echo in the old elevator. Besides, I'm used to fending for myself.

I've lived in New York all my life and never left my state, let alone country. I didn't have any parents to treat me with the occasional family trip. I was always alone. I've been here long enough to know who to steer clear of and who's trustworthy, because especially in a city like this, there's always trouble.

I was getting ready for my late shift when I heard a person unlocking the long empty apartment next to mine. Mr. Graham, an old prick, used to occupy the apartment beside me. After his murder two years ago no one bothered to move in, because it just felt unsettling to live at a crime scene. I guess I'm glad someone finally got the guts to live there before Mr. Graham's ghost became the permanent resident. Seriously, either his ghost or a family of raccoons. Something was in there.

My dull, brown hair was up in a messy bun, matching the laziness of my crumpled pencil skirt and worn blouse. I collected all of my things into an old satchel and headed out into the dimly lit autumn night.

I didn't get a good look at my new neighbor, but I prayed that they weren't someone I should carry pepper spray around.

Still distracted by the stranger back at home who was last unloading their things from a motorcycle in the parking lot, I entered my office, bracing myself for the mundane night I was going to have.

After eight unbearable hours of typing, I was finally home. All the rooms in my house were small, but I made do with what I had. My bedroom only fit a double bed, cramming in a closet beside the door. My kitchen was no bigger, with a short countertop stretching across one wall, and cabinets to match. A circle table was huddled in the corner, with two chairs to spare. Wallpaper was ripping at the edges, and there was an old stain on the floor that's probably been there since before the dawn of time. I stepped over the stain and proceeded to make myself comfortable, like I would every other night.

I opened my nearly empty fridge, hoping to find a beer. Success. I sat at my table, cracked open the can, and savored every sip. As I was enjoying the company of my drink, my phone started to buzz.

"Hey Alice!" My friend, Leah, sang out over the phone.
"Hey Lee" I started,
"So how are things going in the Big Apple? Any different than here?"
"Well for starters, their apartments actually have space! At least mine does." She joked.

Leah had recently moved to the city after getting an internship at a fashion magazine. We've known each other since foster care, which is basically forever. Ever since she stole a bag of chips from the cafeteria for me, I knew we were always gonna be by each others side.

"Very funny. How's Dave?"
"We broke up..."
I sighed. I was never good at comforting people.
"Hey. It's ok. Maybe you'd wanna come and visit Friday? We can talk some more and drink a little."
"Oh," She exclaimed,
"You know me so well!"

We giggled and continued our conversation until she realized she was running late for her meeting, and had to prepare a final look for some mock up runway issue-thing. 

I headed out midday to stock up my fridge and make my house a little more presentable, compared to whatever Leah's penthouse probably looked like. While walking along the street, a runner hurled into me. I fell onto the concrete, scraping my arm.