Amy had heard it growing up—
Whatever is meant for you will find you.
And she believed it.
No one ever told her that what was meant for you could arrive too early… or take its time getting there. So it always finds you unprepared.
She needed a job. Nothing grand. Just something simple- something to keep her mind occupied and her basic needs met. She scrolled all the way to the last listing, but none of them promised what she needed most.
Peace of mind.
A knock sounded at the door, and Amy sprang up to answer it. Of course it was April. It was always April, knocking at ten every morning.
"Wow," April gushed, eyes widening as she took in Amy's outfit. "What's the occasion? Stealing hearts?"
Amy blushed and grabbed her notebook.
I want to jump back into the workforce, so I was preparing the look.
April read it once, then looked back at her, incredulous. "You're kidding, right?"
Why? What's wrong?
April sighed, abandoning her cleaning duties—made worse by the fact that Amy was always last on her list. "We've been looking for a media person for our school radio and social media channels for months now!"
Amy squealed.
So what are the procedures I should follow?
April rolled her eyes. "At this rate, I don't think Malcolm's even going to conduct interviews." She picked up her cleaning supplies and headed for the bathroom, Amy trailing after her.
"He just needs a body that can hold a camera."
That desperate?
"You have no idea," April muttered, shaking her head.
After watching April clean for a while, Amy finally wrote down the question that had been bothering her.
Why do you always act like this is a hotel room and not an apartment?
April paused, startled—but she answered anyway. "I think you've noticed how old most of the other tenants are."
She hesitated. "This place was supposed to be a homeless shelter. Then it became housing for the elderly. You can't really hate what it turned into now, can you?"
That doesn't answer my question, Amy wrote, but I understand a thing or two about old people.
April gasped, horrified. "I never asked if you wanted the same treatment as the others!"
Amy smiled.
Who can turn down a free service?
April laughed and turned to her. "You're such an amazing person… I really wish you the best in life."
The sincerity stunned Amy. Where had that come from?
"Oh—before I forget," April added casually, "you're invited to dinner in our apartment tonight."
What's the occasion?
April smiled, cheeky as ever. "The newest addition to our team?"
Even after April left, Amy found herself smiling.
She had friends now. She could argue with them, make things awkward, and somehow—some way—they'd find their way back to each other.
She stood from the couch, picked up Golden, and stepped onto the balcony. Something was calling her from there.
The music sheets.
She worked for six hours straight, editing lyrics, reshaping melodies, crossing things out and starting again—until something finally felt right.