Date Me, Mr. Archer

one | mishap in the rains

They said, some people feel rain, others just get drenched. I was amongst the ones that simply got drenched since not everyone had the time to feel the rains. Not everyone was so jolly that they could skip down the stairs, pull open their hair and then dance under the waters like they were the female leads from nineties.

Some people that got drenched, like me, had things to get to. I didn't have time to jump across puddles like frogs and laugh everytime I saw a paper boat floating in the mud. All I had the time to do was tie up my hair and get running because if I even stood under the rains for a second to feel it, I'd fall. And I couldn't afford falling or even being slowed down. Because again, if I did, I'd fail.

Taking a long breath, I stepped out of my apartment and closed the door behind me, eliciting a groan of protest from the door. Another thing I hated about rains, things just got so stuck that they'd either need to be destroyed or just given up on. And no, there was no pun intended because I had been trying to repair my door for so long-around two weeks-and yet it didn't close well because the moisture had it rusting.

Groan after groan, I pulled the door with all strength I had in the moment, dropping my bag and umbrella down in the process, and the door budged slightly. Inhaling another deep breath, I gripped the door handle even tighter and inhaled another sharp breath while pulling the door to its frame as it made a click sound of the affirmation I needed of it being locked.

Sweat dripping down my forehead, I bent to pick my purse and umbrella and hurried out of my building, sighing in relief as I saw the cab I'd called parked right infront of the gate.

Getting in the cab, I greeted the driver and gave him the address of my workplace-soon to be atleast-if I passed the interview. Rains, dear heavens, were so annoying yet I pitied them sometimes.

They had no say in when they desired to fall. Or how much of it wanted to be wasted on human lands who didn't give a shit of them. Or for how long they had to continue their pitter-ing patter-ing. Because it was the stupid clouds that decided it. Clouds, as their fairy God mother, deemed it right to loosen its drops once it'd realised they'd started getting heavier and kept releasing it until they themselves felt better. But what about the raindrops? What if they didn't want to fall? What if they wanted to stay in solitude inside the clouds? No one cared.

Just like my parents never cared. Vienna turned eighteen, time for her to get out of the house. Vienna turned twenty-one, time for her to put her studies to test and get her first real job. Vienna worked at the same place for two years and yet hasn't been able to get out of her crap apartment? Well too bad but time for her to get to a new job. I had hardly been twenty-four when I had gotten into a job where my boss fell in love with me and I had to leave my job again because I didn't fancy his feelings. And even now, with me being twenty-five, just like the raindrops, I had no say in anything against my parents who set another interview for me at another office.