Before I go on and on about how beautiful she looked, I must explain how I came to live with Rebecca. You see, my dear reader, I was desperate. Many are the difficulties that an adult must face and, if you ever meet someone in their thirties whose life is not falling apart, they are minutes away from a mental breakdown. I will bet my life insurance on that.
I spent most of my life reading. Ever since I could remember, my eyes were glued to the pages of either a book, a comic, or their online versions. I could simply not live without fictional stories. So it made sense to pursue a career in literature. I spent my college days studying German poetry, and even got a master’s degree. For the last two years, I divided my time between my doctoral degree and the school I taught at. It was hard, and I was tired for most of my time, but I felt I was doing something meaningful.
In January, just before summer vacation ended, I was fired. As if that was not enough, my bakenekos had a fight - which was not all that unusual - but Ari hurt Levi’s eye, and the vet bill was a bit too sour. I had savings, so I could pay for everything without a hitch, but losing my job meant I could no longer afford to live on my own.
A friend of a friend introduced me to Rebecca. ‘Introduce’ might be a strong word, because we only texted before I moved in. Our meeting in the living room was our first and, although it had been strange, it was far from unpleasant.
As Rebecca stood next to my door, I noticed she was still wearing her fitness outfit. Some sweat was dripping from her forehead and armpits, and I could feel the heat coming off of her body. Her mouth was moving, but I didn't really understand what she was saying. That was when she snapped her fingers in front of my face.
‘Earth to Oliver! Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry. I must be tired. What were you saying?’
‘Do you have any plans for this evening? I was hoping to throw a little house party to celebrate you moving in’.
‘Ah… I was going to do some writing, but a party sounds fun’.
‘Great! Do you have any food restrictions? I was thinking of pizza and beer’.
‘Sounds great! I like most pizzas, so order whatever you want, except Portuguese pizza’.
‘The one with eggs? I don’t like that one either, don’t worry. Is beer alright?’
I looked outside the window. It was around five in the afternoon, but the sun did not seem to mind. It was the early days of February, and the heat was at its peak. The perfect weather for an ice cold beer.
‘Sure, beer is fine’.
Rebecca was nice. Not only that, she was also pretty. However, my previous roommates had all been nice people in the beginning, only to show themselves to be aggressive, rude and two-faced in the end. Had it not been for my being sacked, I would never consider living with a stranger again.
I turned on my computer, determined to write as many words as possible before the pizza and beer arrived. I was currently writing a webnovel named ‘Autistic Villainess’, and I was certainly committed to it. I wrote every day, religiously, and my effort had paid off. I could now proudly say I lived off my art, because it was ‘Autistic Villainess’ that paid my bills.
A while after Rebecca had left, Ari and Levi left their hiding spot. Both of them glared at me with angry eyes, as if questioning why I had put them through the torture of moving apartments. Levi yawned and Ari mewed again.
‘Sorry buddy, we had to move. Money doesn’t grow on trees’.
They soon grew tired of all the glaring and went back to hiding under the bed. I focused on my writing, and let the words lead me to unexpected places. The more I wrote, the more I thought my characters had a life of their own. I felt like a bystander, who quietly registers everything he sees. Writing made me happy.
The sky quickly turned darker. The pomegranate tree was below my window, but it was hard to see it at night. I looked up and saw the full moon, shining with all its glory. A soft knock brought me back to reality.
‘Can I come in?’, said Rebecca.
‘Sure’.
‘The pizza and the beer arrived. Shall we move to the living room?’
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