Sinfully Beautiful.

Chapter Three.

I walked through the door to my apartment, completely exhausted from the day I had. Cameron ended up having six different meetings throughout the day, half of which I needed to take notes in and the others I was busy returning all the calls he missed while in the conference room. It must be at least eight o'clock right now, and after falling face first onto my black leather couch I felt like doing nothing else. I was starving from missing dinner, and sweaty from being outside but my body was objecting to me getting off of my comfy couch.

I have lived in New York City almost my entire life, with the exception of when I was in college. And even with the millions of people who lived here, and how busy it was any time day or night, I still found myself incredibly lonely sitting here sometimes. I grew up across the river in Brooklyn, and I missed it all the time. It reminded me of what life was like before my father died and my life went to shit. With my father being a firefighter sure we didn't have all the money in the world, but we were happy. Now my mother was remarried and had more money than she could get her hands on, and I was miserable. Funny how life works.

I didn't mind living in Manhattan, but Brooklyn was always home. It was where me and my brother grew up, it was where i met my best friend Talia, it was where my father died and where he was still buried. I hated he wasn't buried right up the street to where I could visit him more. I missed him every day. I missed him every time I bit into a delicious slice of pepperoni and mushroom pizza, his favorite food. Missed him every time I looked at my brother who was the spitting image of who he was, I just missed him all the time. Sure he died ten years ago, but it still never made the ache in my heart go away.

Without my brother and Talia I really would have nobody, seeing as my mother was pretty much dead to me. Feeling like my head would explode if I though too much about my parents, I finally peeled myself off my couch and wandered into my kitchen to find something appetizing for dinner. I settled on a boring salad and a bottle of water. It didn't satisfy my hunger in the least but I was too tired to make anything else. And I ended up passing out without even changing out of my work clothes.....

The next morning all I wanted to do was lay in bed. My eyes were so heavy and I was having a hard time keeping them open as i took my morning shower. My hair wasn't cooperating even worse than normal, and when I stepped outside into the humidity I knew my day was only going to get worse. Talia keeps trying to get me to get a treatment done on my hair so it doesn't strangle me throughout the day, I just never found the time. But I was really considering it before the benefit on Saturday.

I didn't see any cabs much to my dismay, which meant I would be walking the ten blocks to my office building. But as fate would have it, the one person I didn't want to see would come walking in the direction of my apartment building. "Avery, Please stop being petty about this!" My mother said reaching out to grab my arms with her perfectly manicured claws. "I told you never to contact me" I growled before walking past her in the direction of work.

My mother just chased after me and yanked my arm back, causing me to stop in my tracks."What! What do you want from me?!" I yelled loudly at her, causing an innocent elderly couple to jump as they passed by us. I knew by now bystanders were looking, as anyone does in this city when they see someone raise their voice. Nosy bastards.

"Tommy will be coming home soon, I think we should go together" She said with a fake smile plastered on her face. My jaw opened wide and I looked at her with severe bewilderment. Has my mother completely forgotten everything that happened all those years ago, because I surely know it haunts me every time I close my eyes.

My mother wasn't always like this. When she was married to my father she would be the first one to finish her beer and belch loudly while she did it. She was the one cheering the loudest when the Jets played on Sunday afternoons. She never cared when she would stain her clothes and often times would just replace a stained shirt with one that was even dirtier. That was the mother I loved and knew growing up, not this plastic barbie standing in front of me. Her expensive dress was so tight I thought her breasts would explode out of the top, and I'm sure the bag on her arm was more expensive than two months in my apartment.