J A M I E
'No knocking on my door between ten PM to ten AM.'
"Weird, but alright." Jamie gave a once over to the e-mail she had received this early morning from a potential tenant. The said guy claimed he was twenty-five and was going to occupy the apartment for a minimum of four months, and he was currently employed at a local restaurant. Along with a request that the rent would be paid on the seventh of every month, he had a no-knocking policy. Fair enough.
She wrote a quick reply that she was interested and put her phone back into her little purse.
Six months and there were only two applications, but this seemed to be her best shot compared to the other. She wouldn't have to go through the whole process again, and from their profile, they sounded. . . okay. She was running out of patience, so unless they too ended up asking to let their pet snake be the third tenant, they were a better choice.
Ignoring the countless beer bottles, as well as the joyful screams of strangers, Jamie Hyde walked towards the backyard door, pushing her way through a hoard of people. Empty bottles rolled on the floor, clinking with each other as a result of obnoxious irresponsibility. She was itching to pick them up, tidy the place and give an earful to everyone who didn't know how to use a trash can, but she walked off the temptation, nearing the pool instead.
She found familiar faces by the water, the glitter on their cheeks sparkled under the dim iridescent lights, and she desperately hoped they wouldn't notice her. Most of all, she hoped her ex-boyfriend wouldn't notice her. Between all her sparkly acquaintances, there was a specific devil her eyes were searching for, and she had every kind of lame plan figured out if it came to facing him.
Incoming calls, work emergencies, triggered home alarms or simply disappearing if she had to choose the immoral route, but thankfully, she didn't find his face anywhere among the crowd. She sighed with relief, thanking fate to be on her side today, but when the rough heels of the boots stomped behind her, she ceased in her place, feeling her glittering bodycon dress suddenly become tighter.
"Jamie, hey." She took a deep breath. "Jamie?" He repeated, and she gave up her breathing routine halfway, muttering a fuck under her breath. Was I too obvious? Did I stop too abruptly? The tables with drinks were right in front of her, and considering she hadn't fallen face-first on them, she could assume she was fine. The worst had not happened yet.
She clenched her eyes shut, finding the courage to face him again. She didn't know what impression he got from her back, but she turned around with grace. He would get a good front look, even if he was a cheating scum. "Mike," she tried to be polite, she really did, but she couldn't. "I didn't expect you to greet me. Where's Sila?"
A proud smirk latched onto her lips. She was courteous with that one, more than she'd have liked, but she finally stood up to him. After three months of their breakup she could, at last, make snarky remarks at him. Instead of having her eyes well up, she was confident and sarcastic, and it was a little victory she appreciated with everything in her.
"She's busy with. . ." His eyes roamed around, probably hoping to find what his sister was up to, and Jamie found the perfect opportunity to escape the frustrating conversation.
"Okay, I'll see you around," she flashed her teeth in a forced smile and turned her back on him.
Music blasted around her, but even with the EDM beat drop at its peak volume, it couldn't shield the clacking of his boots. Either the speaker was shit or his boots had grown a pair of drums on their sole. Oh, how she hated his boots, they were a pain to take off, smelled like rotten prawns and looked ugly on him in general. He paired it with a dress shirt and formal slacks, much to her displeasure.
His footsteps followed her, he had always applied a little more than necessary pressure to ensure everybody heard him. Jamie always suspected it made him feel powerful or something, and she used to marvel at that once. She admired everything about him when they were together, no matter how bizarre or ridiculous, he was adorable to her.
Now, he was just a loser who liked to click pictures with a tiny tube light on his chest because he watched Iron Man once.
"Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could talk." He walked by her side, and she shook her head.
"I don't want to."
"I know, but just two minutes?"
"You said a minute, like a second ago."
"Jamie—" He was interrupted, and as the tip of her heels were seconds away from slipping on an empty packet of potato chips, she thanked the heavens for sending whoever intervened.
"Mike! I was looking for you everywhere," Sila was out of breath when she reached them, her palm grasped around her brother's forearm when she bent to catch a breath. She shot Jamie an apologetic smile and turned to her brother again, "I think we're running out of pizza and beer, these people are animals! Can you go order some more?" With a grumbled yes, Mike gave his ex-girlfriend one last look and walked away.
"Thank you," Jamie said with a smile and wrapped her arms around the birthday girl's shoulder, "Happy birthday!" She squeezed her friend some more, and they giggled along. Sila was the one friend she never lost, despite how life always found a way to drive them apart.
"Thank you, thank you! And I'm sorry, I told Mike to not bother you, he never listens." She shook her head, and Jamie waved her hand in front of her. Even though curses were on the tip of her tongue, she wasn't going to ruin her birthday. She doubted Sila would like to hear how garbage her brother was on non-birthday days either but, her support was more than what one could've asked for.
Rants about Mike Gray could be saved for someone else.
"I am not going to stay long," She started, even though she could sense the protests incoming, "You know how I feel around everyone here. I didn't want to miss your party but . . ." She tried to find words to say their mutual friends made her uncomfortable without being rude, but there were a few ways to do it without insulting the people Sila held dear to her.
Her birthday wasn't what she was here for anyway.
"At least wait for Nylla. She said she'll be here any moment."
"Yeah, of course."
"Jamie—" When Mike's voice approached them again, she rolled her eyes in frustration.
"Ah, save me." She ran away, glad for the way an argument ensued between the siblings, hopefully in Jamie's favour.
She roamed around for the next half an hour. Catching up with some people she still liked, ignoring and running away from the ones she still hated. Things had been bitter with most of her friends since Mike, and she broke up. He said she was the one who drove him into cheating, and they believed it. She cried about losing her friends and boyfriend within a week, but she got over it soon. She had to, life didn't wait for her to get over losers.
The music had changed into a soft one now. Along with a few giggles that rang in her ears, the melody made her sleepy. It wasn't a boring one, rather the was the kind of music she could peacefully fall asleep to.
If she was being honest with herself, she wanted to fly home and cry on her mother's lap. She wanted her homemade food, and rant to her about how difficult things have been. If only her mother didn't live miles away. If only her father would let her see her without going nuts, but instead of every bit of comfort, her mom could offer, she now, had to deal with a furious Nylla who was storming toward her.
Her tall domineering frame was rattling against Jamie's short self. With her long luscious brunette hair spiralling with the wind and heels tall and thin enough to stab someone, she walked with ambition in her eyes.
"So, is he? Fucking that therapist of his?" He was, but the redhead wasn't going to tell her that.
Nylla was Jamie's second cousin. At the age of twenty-nine, she had been married to her high school sweetheart for six years now, and she tended to get obsessive about it—constantly on his tail to know whether he was being faithful or not. She went to the extent of driving him to threaten divorce. Jamie had hoped her fanatical behaviour would stop after that since no matter how much her husband infuriated her, she didn't want her marriage to end, but the paranoid wife proved her wrong when she dialled her again her last week.
The poor couple needed a divorce, not affairs and spying. But Jamie too needed the extra money, and if Nylla was done with him. . . she wouldn't have that—it had been a very few easy months banking on her paranoia.
"Hey, Nylla."
"Come on, Jamie. Neither you nor I care about how we've been."
Politeness was never her strongest trait. She had a love-hate relationship with Nylla. The latter pushed every bit of her buttons, and the anxious brunette had been part of some of her very violent thoughts, but she also empathized, kind of. Her husband had been the one who forced her into getting married. And now, he didn't have the decency to stay loyal or separate before he went on his wild adventures.
Nylla was crazy, but she liked her crazy, and she understood her crazy.
"You could've been nice about it. I was trying to help you." She wasn't oblivious to the accusation in Jamie's words, but she couldn't possibly bother with them when they meant nothing. Being nice would do nothing for her neither would 'trying to help.' She was on her own for this.
"I know, so what is it?"
"He isn't cheating." Jamie pulled out a pen drive from her sling bag, "Recordings of his last few sessions." Her eyes lit up at that, and she almost looked proud of her cousin.
"I'll drop by to give you the cheque later." She nodded, turning around to walk away, but Jamie jumped in front of her, blocking her path with a hesitant look.
"Actually, I need a favour." Her eyebrows quipped, and she breathed in.
"How about half of what we agreed on, and instead of the rest of the money. . . you hold on to that pen drive of mine."
"What do you want with my husband's recordings?"
"No reason, just don't lose it."
"Jamie, I swear to God, do you have feelings for him—"
"What? What the hell, no! Just something that I can't trust myself with on it, okay? Keep it safe, and I'll ask you for it when I need it." She panicked. Nylla was dangerous whenever something came close to threatening her marriage. She had watched her being dragged away by her husband, minutes away from pulling the hair out of a woman's scalp.
"Okay." She looked unsure but walked off nonetheless.
That was one thing done. One step closer to protecting herself against River Cassidy.