Wildfire - H.S

01

And any chance of peace is stolen away.

But it's New York City, when can I ever really have any actual peace.

The noise of the bustling streets is constant, always the rumble of car engines and screaming from god knows what drunkards at 3 am.

But that's all a part of the charm, is it not?

I just never have any privacy, especially not living with this girl.

Look at her, bounding into my room five minutes after me waking up, not even giving me notice before flinging my door wide open.

And for what?

If I walk out there and there's some sort of stripper pole or god only knows what else that girl has in that mind of hers, then I mean it, when I say today, will be her last day on earth.

I roll onto my back and shuffle up my bed so I'm sitting upright, rubbing my eyes and yawning, so I can focus my eyes and actually see what on earth she has in her hands.

"Esmerelda, how many times do I have to tell you. If you call me by my full name, I'll call you by yours." I reply in a giggle, knowing full well how much she hates it also half referencing her favorite movie.

"I will never forgive my mother for not just calling me Esme." I hear the frustration in her voice, and just as I pull my hair back into a ponytail I catch a glimpse of her rolling her eyes.

Oh, how our mothers had an obsession over English-sounding names after watching Pride and Prejudice right before we were born.

Thinking that Mr. Darcy would sweep us off our feet one day.

And when I say Mr. Darcy I'm referring mostly to the man playing his character, also known as the man who both our mothers are in love with.

None-other than Colin Firth.

And if we're being honest here. I can't exactly blame them. Have you seen the man? Almost 60 and he could still get it.

I feel the bed dip at my feet and watch Esme as she holds a small frosted cupcake with a thin white candle sticking out of the top. A flickering golden flame just in front of my nose.

"Make a wish Evie." She says as I blow out the candle.

There's not really much for me to wish for because, despite it sounding incredibly cliche, I have a pretty perfect life.

I have a good part-time job. Just a small dance studio I work at, teaching young girls ballet -  all with big dreams like mine.

New York, the city where dreams come true.

I'm in my ideal school, I'm living in a beautiful albeit small apartment with my best friend and couldn't ask for much more.

Maybe I should wish to forget my 18th birthday.

"Red velvet, with cream cheese frosting. You're favorite." I take the cupcake from her hand and lick a strip of the icing, offering Esme to do the same. Which she does because she will never pass up free food.

Honestly how that girl eats and eats and still has a model worthy body, and face for that matter, outstands me.

I mean I guess it's lucky for her considering she wants to model, however, every agency has tried to put her on a strict diet. But no, she won't do it. And good on her.

She always says the same thing 'I didn't come to New York, where I can literally eat pizza for breakfast just to eat fucking twigs from trees every day for every meal for the rest of my life.'