-ALEXANDER-

-“And That Kids, Is How I Met Your Monster”-

Mrs. Margulor was already in the elevator when it arrived. She lived on the floor above me, directly above my apartment. She’d lived here longer than I have.

Far longer.

She was somewhere in her late seventies and lived alone with two disgusting hairless cats. She greeted me as I entered the elevator. I mumbled a greeting back and stood in silence for a moment. Feeling rude, I tried to start some small talk. I was probably the only young person to even speak to her nowadays anyway.

“Ever thinking of getting a cat with hair?” I said, stuck for ideas. 

As usual. 

“Oh, no. The hair is half the trouble” she replied in her dusty cobweb voice. “ Wrinkles and Raisin are doing just fine as well.” She continued, turning to smile at me. “ Ever thinking of getting a pet, Ally?” She asked. I sighed deeply and answered.

“Yeah, pretty much. I bet they’re loud too, so I apologise for any noise or inconvenience.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” She exclaimed, clasping her hands together and smiling. “Where are you getting them from?” 

“Uh… Rescue?” I replied, giggling on the inside. There was the strangely nice jerkbag feeling again.

I feel like I should feel bad for thinking like this, or do I just feel like I should feel bad? Man, apathy’s confusing I thought, quietly smiling to myself.

“Well you’ll have to show me a picture when you get them” She said innocently as the elevator chimed as we reached the ground floor. 

“Yeah, sure, see you later” I said as we exited the elevators and went our ways. 

“Why can’t I send Dr. Octavius to live with her?” I grumbled as I approached the front entrance. I glanced over at the small lounge in the corner and spotted a girl sitting upside-down on the couch next to a suitcase, waving her hands around infront of her face. I gulped and pretended to look the other way, scanning the lobby for somebody else. Anybody else. 

My phone buzzed again.

From: David Lucose

To: Alexander Beute

Subject: The driver sees you.

That’s her.

Good luck.

Thanks,

YOUR DEVOTED BOSS,

David Lucose

I frowned at my phone and looked out the glass sliding front doors at the black Mercedes stopped out front. The driver- most likely one of Dave’s personal drivers- smiled, waved and gave me a thumbs up before reversing and driving off quickly, clearly relieved to have his guest out of the car.

That was it.

She was here now.

There was no negotiating with Dave.

No convincing him to let her sleep with Mrs. Margulor and Raisin and Wrinkle.

There wasn’t even a chance to walk back to the elevator and ignore the girl,

because I’d been spotted.