Chapter 14: Moving in with Noona.
It felt like transversing between dual worlds to me. The buildings gradually shifted from squat brick to modern complexes with glass facades and manicured landscaping.
It took about twenty-five minutes before the driver pulled up to the curb. "This is it," he said, sounding vaguely impressed.
I got out, luggage by my feet and my mouth literally fell open. The building before me wasn't just an apartment complex; but a sight for the eyes.
A sleek, modern tower of glass and pale steel, maybe fifteen stories tall, with a tastefully lit lobby visible through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Potted plants flanked a revolving door. It looked less like a place to live and more like the headquarters of a very successful, very minimalist tech company. This wasn't "having a spare room"; this was luxury.
Noticing that I was attracting curious stares from well-dressed pedestrians walking tiny, fluffy dogs or carrying designer coffee cups, I quickly snapped my jaw shut and tried to regain some semblance of composure. I squared my shoulders, tightened my hold on my luggage, and walked towards the entrance.
I greeted the valet who seemed quite amicable.
'She said it was apartment B4,' I recalled, my mind clinging to the mundane detail amidst the opulent surroundings.
The text had included the apartment number and a breezy "see you in the morning!". I pushed through the polished revolving glass door which intimidated me, and entered the lobby.
The air inside was cool and smelled faintly of lemongrass. The floors were appealing..A sleek, modern front desk stood to one side, manned by a young woman in a sharp blazer. Her eyes flicked up from her computer screen as I approached, her expression professionally neutral.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, her voice was pleasant to the ear.
"Hi, yes, I'm here to see Sarah Lee? In apartment B4?" I said, hoping things would go as smoothly as I'd hoped.
To my surprise, her professional expression melted into a warm, knowing smile. "Oh! You must be Julian! Ms. Lee mentioned you might be stopping by this morning."
" She said her nephew was coming to stay for a bit." She used formal honorifics for Sarah, which felt strangely fitting in this setting.
"Uh, yeah. That's me," I said, feeling both relieved and exposed.
"Of course. Apartment B4 is on the fourth floor. The elevators are just around that corner to your right." She gestured gracefully. "You're all set."
I thanked her, feeling like I'd passed some unseen test, and headed for the elevators.
I stepped inside with my luggage, which suddenly looked even more pathetic reflected a dozen times on the polished surfaces of the elevators interior.
I pressed the button leading the Sarah Noona's floor. The doors slid shut without a sound, and the ascent was so smooth I barely felt it.
When I arrived, I saw that the fourth-floor hallway was just as pristine as the lobby, with nice floors, soft recessed lighting, identical dark wood doors spaced widely apart. It was incredibly quiet.
My sneakers, which had seemed fine this morning, now felt like they might leave scuff marks on this beautiful floor. I walked down the hall, reading the discreet brass numbers: B1, B2, B3…
B4.
I stopped. This was it. The point of no return. I took a deep breath that did nothing to calm my nerves.
'I wonder if anyone's home,' I contemplated. It was mid-morning on a weekday. Sarah might be at the hospital for orientation. Ophelia should be old enough to go out on her own now.
I raised my hand and knocked on the door yet all I got in return was.
Silence.
I waited, listening. But I heard no sound of footsteps, maybe the isolation inside was superb because I couldn't hear any sounds belonging to anything besides a prrsy.
"Strange," I muttered to myself. "Maybe she's still asleep? Or ran out for something?" It seemed impossible that Sarah Noona would give me the wrong address. Her type of efficiency didn't allow for such errors. She'd probably had an early meeting or errand.
I decided to knock again, a little louder this time, in three short intervals. Knock-knock-knock. Pause. Knock-knock-knock.
Still nothing.
Just as I was about to dig my phone out of my pocket to call or text her, to double-check I hadn't misread the floor number, I heard it. A soft, metallic sound from the other side of the door. The distinct clunk-click of a deadbolt being turned.
The next moment, the heavy door was pulled open from the inside.
But it wasn't Sarah Noona's warm, smiling face that greeted me.
Instead, I found myself looking at someone else entirely. A girl, probably a few years younger than me. My first, overwhelming impression was of a goth enthusiast dialed up to a carefully curated eleven. Her hair was jet black, so dark it had a blue sheen under the hallway lights, and it was parted neatly down the middle, tied into two long, perfect braids that hung over her shoulders. Her makeup was dramatic, pale foundation, dark eyeliner that swept out at the corners, and a matte black lipstick that was both startling and oddly entrancing for my part.
As for her outfit, it was casual but aggressively coordinated, black elastic dolphin shorts and a matching cropped sports bra, revealing a flat, toned stomach.
She blinked at me, her dark-lined eyes assessing me with a cool, unreadable curiosity. She was holding a sleek, expensive-looking smartphone in one hand.
I stood there, not knowing how to react , my brain trying to reconcile this vision with my expectation of a welcoming aunt.
'She looks a bit younger than me, probably a college freshman… and she can afford a place like this?' The thought was a quiet, internal sniff of disbelief, a reflex born of my own recent financial trauma.
'Some people really do have it all figured out, don't they?'
We stared at each other in the quiet, expensive hallway for a beat too long. The girl in the doorway made no move to speak, her expression caught somewhere between bored an
d mildly intrigued, as if I were a slightly unexpected but not entirely unwelcome delivery.