Tasty (29 page)

I
set about distracting myself with my unpacking. I hadn’t
brought much—unlike my sister with her closet overflowing with
colorful clothes, I had a rather small, extremely versatile wardrobe.
Black went with everything, after all. After I had hung everything
up, I was pleased to see that I still had plenty of room in my
closet. Despite not having anything else I needed to put in there, it
was still nice to know I had space if I needed it.

The
closet door had a full-length mirror, making it hard to avoid my
reflection when it was closed. My hair had come loose during my
unpacking, so I quickly smoothed it back into its usual bun—the
most efficient way to style my long black hair. I also didn’t
mind the way it made my eyes look bigger, though my dad always joked
that I couldn’t change that no matter what.

“You
look like one of the things in the
Gremlins
movies,” he would always say. “But the cute one.”

In
the mirror, I noticed that my loose black shirt was covered in dirt,
which I brushed away, making sure none had gotten on my black pants.
Getting dressed was easy when everything matched, which was good,
since I had a tendency to hit snooze on my alarm more than I should.
My quick and easy morning routine was the only thing that kept me
from being late for rehearsal every day.

There
was a small dresser in the closet where I put my few foldable items,
mostly pajamas and lingerie. It was the one piece of my wardrobe that
had any color. I was a fan of pretty lacy things, just not of showing
them off. Even when I had been with Mark, I had only shown him my
more conservative bras and panties. Somehow, I had sensed that he
wouldn’t have approved of the more . . . interesting
items I had. Those, the thigh-high stockings, push-up bras, and
silken thongs, were carefully arranged in my top drawer. It was a
part of myself that I never felt like sharing. But a part that I
really liked indulging. I had a hard time passing up La Perla or
Agent Provocateur lingerie. My unofficial motto was: when in doubt,
buy panties. I seemed to be buying a lot of panties these days.

I
unloaded the box that held my meager collection of electronics—my
phone charger, which I immediately plugged in right next to my bed to
charge my phone, and my second-hand laptop, which I mostly used to
watch classical performances. Next I took out the bedding, placed the
extra set in the closet and made my bed, which at the moment
consisted only of a mattress on the floor. There was no way a
bedframe could possibly fit in this apartment. But I didn’t
mind. I liked how cozy it all was. And how it was all mine. And if I
wanted to sleep on a mattress on the floor, well, then I was going to
sleep on a mattress on the floor.

The
sun was beginning to set, so I took my first shower in my new
apartment and was thrilled to find that the water pressure was strong
and the water was steadily hot. The city outside was still awake,
lights on in every house on the block across from mine, but I found I
liked the darkness of my apartment—it made it feel even cozier.
I put on my favorite silk cami and short set—a recent
splurge—and sat down at my piano. The first notes echoed
beautifully in the room and I soon lost myself in the music.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Read the rest of the story in
PLAY ME
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