Heading over to Jake's place made me feel like I was a fan girl groupie to a rock star. Security was tight as hell, the doorman, even though seemingly nice, didn't smile at me once and appeared as if he just left a fight with someone else. I bet under all that black-suited gold-buttoned attire, his sharply angled brows, his dark cold eyes, his lips shut tight in what I can only describe as a sour lemon-sucked face, his dormant abrasiveness would shine through more if he wasn't wearing that hat. That hat is a saviour to all who enter this building.
The apartment building was well lit, marble floors and decorated wall lighting of amber. A painting hung on the wall, and because of Double Jeopardy I could roughly tell it was a Kandinsky. Perhaps to brighten up the lobby. Now I felt smart after recognising a painting, my art teacher in middle school would be so proud.
"Uhh, I'm here to see Jake S-Saunders," I stuttered.
The man behind the desk stared at me. He had dark skin, more like dark chocolate than milk chocolate, and the white edges of his eyes shone bright, large and bulging, staring straight at me. His lips full and slightly pink towards the inner crevices; he too wore the black-suited gold-buttoned attire, and his hat too, softened his features. Over his right pec, he wore a gold name tag, 'Jamal'. I felt like I was under the gun with these people.
He lifted the phone and dialled. Then he smiled, without looking at me. "Hi, how are you?" a pause, he laughed. He actually laughed. Did I have 'terror risk' plastered on my forehead? "Yeah, yeah, not too bad. Well, sir, there is a—" he peered up at me and I said my name "—a Sophia here to see you." He stretched my name like it was made up. Like I just said Princess Consuela Banana Hammock! He laughed once more, said 'alright' and 'yes, sir' a couple of times, and then hung up.
I began walking backwards towards the elevator. "So I can go?"
"I must come with you," he said, his rough attitude returning.
"Oh, okay," I mumbled lowly.
The elevator ride was perhaps the longest in history. Silent, awkward, like a hostage takeover of the mind; nothing was said, and if it were said, it could be held against you. I'm usually good with people. I love people. Well, of course not all people; but I'm awesome with strangers and first impressions. Were these guys for real in acting so bizarrely abrasive or was I just an added dent to their already crappy night?
Turns out the reason why the elevator ride was so long wasn't because I was stuck with Jamal, it was because Jake's floor was so high up. How incredibly ostentatious of him. I wouldn't expect it any other way.
The elevator dinged to a stop and the gold plated doors opened out into another hallway. A short walk to a double-doored end. Jamal pointed. "This is your stop. Jake's waiting."
Thanks Mr. Condescending man! I smiled politely, but it barely reached my eyes. "Thanks so much."
I know how to deal with these guys. Next time, if there's ever a next time, I'm going to bring delectable delights, they won't be able to resist, and I'll be the best guest ever! It's all about preparation; I should put it on my resume as an example of organisational skills. I looked over my shoulder to find Jamal still standing at the elevator doors, even though the doors were shut behind him. Man, security really is super tight.
I knocked on the large double doors three times and waited. I couldn't even make out some rustling sounds beyond the creamy white doors, and eventually gave up on trying to listen. I settled my eyes on the bottom corner when the door flung open. I started to smile, and then my smile got shot down. The person who answered the door was definitely the least of who I was expecting.