Making my way to the door, I can't get my mind off of my upcoming journey. Will I be able to do it? Will I have what it takes? It's a lonely life, but that's not a bad thing, not for me anyways. Distracted, I open the door. It's the kid from the apartment upstairs - what's his name again? I do so wish I wasn't such an idiot about names. "Ahhh, yeah, James, what can I do for you?"
The kid snorts in that dismissive way some kids like to do with adults. "My name's Jarrod. We've only been neighbors for, what, about three years now?"
"Sorry, Jarrod, I'm preoccuppied. I'm getting ready to go on a trip."
"Well, Mr. Plumber asked me to give you a message. He said you need to pay your overdue rent by the 15th, or you're out of here."
"I told you, I'm going on a trip."
"Hey, don't tell me, tell him."
"Okay, fine." The kid turned to walk away. "Oh, and Jarrod, could you please keep the music down tonight? I have some things to work on and your music is very distracting."
"Sorry, the band's comin' over in an hour. We don't have anywhere else to practice. Luck for you - you're goin' on a trip, right?" he added sarcastically.
I calmly closed the door, but inside I was seething with anger. One thing was for sure, when I sold my first book, the first thing I would do would be to buy this dump.Then, good 'ole Jarrod and Mr. Plumber would find themselves peddling their wares on the street. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation.
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