My fight or flight reaction was triggered immediately when my alarm rang. I wasn't really sure why I had my alarm set when it was a Saturday and a long weekend ahead.
I've been trying to process my job here as an intern at a publisher company and it was really difficult for me to settle in since I had to work 9-5 everyday for the rest of my life. If I'm filled with wealth, I wouldn't be here working, I'd be running around the world, travelling and seeking new beginnings.
However, it wasn't within my control. Destiny led me to this urban apartment, a full-time job that covered expenses—something I couldn't really gripe about. I had meals and a shelter, more than my upbringing offered.
"No," I articulated, discouraging those notions today. This wasn't the moment for such contemplations. I wouldn't let myself regress when I'd been consistently advancing day by day.
Thus, I rose, prepared breakfast, and settled in for some TV.
"'Gianna! Open the damn door!" boomed a voice from behind, my front door quivering from insistent knocks.
"Calm down, Amy! I'm on my way," I grumbled, making my way to the door.
She was my closest companion, yet that didn't preclude occasional exasperation. Like now. Who rapped on the door like a maniac so early on a Saturday?
"Seriously, chill," I uttered, swinging the door ajar.
"What could be so urgent at this ungodly hour?" I remarked, observing her appearance. Auburn hair haphazardly bundled up, untamed eyes radiating an eagerness as though she could hardly wait to share something.
So early? Gianna, come on, it's just 9:30am. It's almost like noon," she teased, rolling her eyes and brushing past me towards the couch. We were so comfortable with each other that we treated each other's places like our own.
"You're being quite theatrical," I huffed, closing the door with a sigh.
"Yeah, well, you're not winning any awards as a friend today. Forgot it was our getaway day, didn't you?" she pouted, now slouching on the couch. Had she always been this moody? Well, that's a pointless question. I walked over to her in the living room after locking the door.
"I didn't forget, Amy. I'm sorry I didn't wake up and immediately call you with excitement," I replied, glancing down at her on the couch as I grabbed the remote and muted the TV.
"Well, I, for one, can't contain my excitement for tonight!"
She beamed and patted the spot next to her. I playfully rolled my eyes and settled down beside her on the couch. She shifted her position so she was facing me and wiggled her eyebrows.
"So, did you actually choose an outfit like I told you to?" She asked, her eyes playfully accusing me of not having done so.
Did she really have to understand me so thoroughly? Because the answer was no. I hadn't picked out an outfit. And, truth be told, I probably wouldn't have. Mainly because I'm not much of a club-goer, and I lack the desired attire she'd want me to sport.
There's also the small matter of me possibly forgetting about our big plans today. But of course, she doesn't need to be privy to that.
"No," I replied, mustering a friendly, wide grin.
"But I'm well aware that's why you're here." She rolled her eyes, standing up and tugging me along by grabbing my forearm. And so it begins.
"You seriously need to get out more. You're always cooped up in this apartment, buried in books or doing online research. Give yourself a break," she exclaimed as she guided me into my room. My closet sat nestled by the bed in the corner, exactly where she was dragging me to.
"I know," I conceded, meeting her gaze as her arm extended to flick on the closet light, her eyes never leaving mine.
"I realise that you and Celina want me to be more social. And believe me, I want that too, but..." I sighed.
"It's just not easy. I feel this constant guilt, as though I should be using that time to work and study." I never aimed to miss out or decline invitations, yet battling my internal doubts was a daily struggle. The tug of war with my thoughts persisted, a constant need to prove something gnawing at me. I had attempted to break free from that mindset after securing a relatively stable job, but it's a journey I'm still on.
"Gianna, never let guilt consume you when you need to take a break or prioritise yourself. You deserve it," she said with a reassuring smile, sifting through my clothes in the closet.
"And considering how tough things have been lately, let's make tonight about forgetting it all and having some fun." As she turned around, her red hair cascaded down as she undid her bun, her attention still on my wardrobe.
She certainly knew how to make a persuasive case. Or maybe I'm just a pushover...
"I can't stand you," I said playfully, a smile forming as she chuckled in response.
I often wondered if there would be a time when I wouldn't have to constantly remind myself to enjoy life. Growing up without a true family, I was accustomed to relying solely on myself.
Income. Food. Support. Shelter. Bills.
There was hardly room for fun in that equation. I promised myself years ago that if I ever managed to secure an apartment — which I did — I'd dedicate myself to hard work and relentless studying. I aimed to continuously improve in my job, so I could truly feel deserving of what I had. Even after toiling for years, that need for reassurance lingered.
Thus, when I landed a position as a receptionist at a hotel, I stayed true to that promise. I spent my weekends immersed in research on serving customers, even if my primary responsibilities included greeting visitors and organising files, making sure they have a comfortable stay.
However, I simply longed to feel knowledgeable, to have a sense of belonging. A college education was something that had always eluded me.
"Are you even paying attention?" My best friend's voice broke through my reverie.
"No."
"You're impossible. Look," she directed my gaze to two dresses she had pulled from the rack while I was lost in thought.
"This one's my favourite," she pointed to a navy blue club dress.
It must've been an impulsive purchase from years ago; I definitely don't remember buying this.
"I suppose. You know I hate dressing up, but for you, I'd do anything. Ames," I said with a coy smile, observing her expression sour at the nickname.
"I told you and Cel not to call me that. Who in the world wants to be called Ames?" She huffed and then turned back to the dress. She grabbed the hanger and thrust it into my hands.
"Try it on," she urged.
Standing in the bathroom with the dress in hand, I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink.
"Come on, HURRY UP!" Amy's impatient voice echoed from outside the door. "I'm dying to see how you look." I could hear the grin in her voice.
I slipped out of my loungewear and slid into the dress. I zipped it up as far as I could manage on my own, then turned towards the door. Amy was sitting on the bed, her excitement palpable.
"Oh my GOD! You look incredible!" Her face lit up as she assessed my outfit.
"No, really! You look stunning. I'm so pumped for tonight," she gushed, and I couldn't help but smile back at her.
"I know you're probably just saying that because you're my friend... and you have to. But thank you," I admitted, feeling a bit bashful. Dressing up wasn't really my thing, so her reaction to this dress caught me off guard.
"Oh, come on, you look amazing. Now take it off and save it for tonight," she laughed, turning around to leave my room.
I giggled and started to remove the dress.
Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure why she was so excited about tonight. It was just another night out at a club. Amy probably had her fair share of those, given her social nature. But I adored her for who she was. I admired her confidence and the way she authentically presented herself in public.
"Hey, I'm heading out. Just wanted to make sure you're not chickening out," Tatum said as she returned to the room. "Okay, what time are we meeting up later?" I inquired.
"I'll swing by around 9 to carpool. Got a few errands to run," she explained.
"Alright, sounds good. See you later, Ames," I teased, already anticipating her reaction.
"Fuck you," she retorted with a laugh as she headed for the front door. "I'll give you a call when I'm on my way. Love you!" And with that, she was off.
With several hours to spare, I decided to get some work done. More research on a job I didn't even have, yet I felt compelled to be prepared for.
While I worked, Amy texted me the name of the club, so I decided to look it up. It seemed like your typical scene, but I couldn't help but notice the long list of A-list individuals it seemed to attract. From billionaires to celebrities? Quite the mix.