23. Cupcake

The apartment feels cold when I get back. I suppose it's yet to feel like a home, and maybe it never will feel like one. It is after all just a temporary arrangement until this whole fiasco is over with, but something about it just feels odd. I feel terrible that I'm here, enjoying luxury—an apartment overlooking one of the greatest cities in the world, with all the food I could imagine and a huge TV to watch all the movies I want, but I have no one to share it with. Of course it's just like me to ruin things, I should have just kept my mouth shut instead of giving my opinion to Rory. If I did, perhaps she'd be here now. The both of us enjoying a glass of champagne.

It's even worse that the one person who is giving me all this hates my guts just as much as I hate his. You'd think we'd be able to find some common ground and get along, but it's like he makes it his mission to make my life more difficult.

I head to my bedroom with one of the boxes I somehow managed to pack before leaving and another two which were still boxed up from when I moved from my dorm. That's one thing I can be thankful for I guess. During them onto my bed, I pour my clothes out and begin to fold them up neatly before putting them in the draws. As I go through them, I start to wonder whether Leon was right when he said I needed a new wardrobe. All I have is skimpy dresses and midriffs—not that there's anything wrong with those, but I suppose they wouldn't give the best impression for being his girlfriend.

Oh gosh, I'm going to be his girlfriend. I hadn't even thought about that being my title. My whole life is now going to revolve around this man, where he goes and who he sees. I'll no longer be plain old Phoebe, I'll be Leon Camdon's girlfriend. Foul, I cannot believe I agreed to this. Not that I really did.

Half an hour passes and I look down at my phone to see it's almost seven-thirty. I thought this man valued promptness. Wasn't he the one who said he wants me to arrive half an hour early in the mornings? Don't dish what you can't serve, Mr. Camdon. Whatever, I'll just serve myself dinner and put on a movie until he decides to show up.

Another hour passes and I've already eaten the roast lamb and potatoes that had been prepared and stored in the fringe. I'm half way through some shitty horror movie on Netflix and I haven't received a single message from the man himself even after I texted asking if he was still coming. For someone who lives literally upstairs, you'd think it wouldn't be that hard to communicate and arrive on time.

Maybe he isn't coming after all.

***

I jolt awake at a bang, my eyes trying to blink away the haze to figure out what the hell that sound was. I look back towards the TV only to realise it auto played another horror movie, this one looking ten times scarier than the last. When the hell did I fall asleep and how long have I been out for? Thank fuck it's a friday night and i don't have to wake up early tomorrow, it feels like I've been slammed in the face with a brick.

I sit up on the couch, pushing off the blanket draped over me—hang on...I don't remember putting a blanket on.

I look up and let out a scream when my eyes land on the person seated in the other lounge. One leg crossed over the other, and staring intently at me, Leon doesn't look the least bit phased by my surprise. "What the actual fuck?" I yell at him, not concerned about waking anyone else in the complex up. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in the apartment, you are fucking insane I swear! Are you trying to scare me to death?"

Leon blinks and leans back into the couch. "Are you done?"

I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest. "No, I'm not. You have no right to just waltz into this apartment at some ungodly time of night and just...what were you even doing? You know what, I don't care. You are such a creep." I take in a deep breath of air, and stare at him with narrowed eyes.

Leon's eyes fall from my face down my body, and that's when I realise I'm only wearing booty shorts and a shirt that does nothing to conceal my nipples. Fucking shit, I grab the blanket that was over me to cover myself and give him a hard look. "Do you have no shame?" I question.

He ignores my question and stands from the couch, approaching me with a casual swagger only he could possess in this situation. "From what I can recall, this is my apartment that I pay for, which means I own it and everything within it," I try to ignore the double meaning behind his words. "I can come in whenever I want, because it's mine."

"Regardless, you need to remember there is a whole person living here. You can't just sneak up and give me a heart attack."

"I didn't sneak, I do not sneak. I was seated on the couch, and I did nothing to warrant such language from you. I hadn't even said anything."

I roll my eyes. "You're being ridiculous, you know exactly what you did."

Leon waves a hand, dismissing the conversation altogether. "I came to tell you that this relationship between us is to remain strictly confidential. You are not to tell anyone and that includes your little friend."

"Seriously, that's what you scared me half to death for? Could you not have just texted me that?"

"Perhaps," his mouth curls into a devious smirk. "But that wouldn't have been half as fun."

I let out a sound of frustration and fight that urge to push the man. Polite Phoebe, you must be polite even if the man is Lucifer himself. "Okay, sure. My lips are sealed."

He gives me a satisfactory nod. "And tomorrow morning my stylist will be here at eleven to help you with your wardrobe. Don't keep her waiting."

And then he's gone. Out the door without another word, as if he hadn't just scared me half to death. This man is an enigma in every sense of the word.

Utterly infuriating, I don't know how I'm going to deal with him for the duration of our deal.

Rory

The house is quiet.

I haven't left my room for hours, too scared to walk out to see Phoebe and realise that maybe she was right. I shouldn't have been so rash and agreed to move in with Nikolai and Alexei. As much as our time together has been amazing, I've only known them for a week and with any other guy I wouldn't even consider moving in within a year of knowing them.

I need to apologise, I need to tell her that she was right about everything and that I wont move in with the guys. Standing from my bed, I'm surprised to hear a knock on the door. Is that Phoebe? Maybe she went for a walk and forgot the key. I check my phone to see if I've gotten a message from her, but there's nothing.

Coming down the stairs, I see a figures silhouette at the door and it doesn't look like anyone I could know. I go to answer it anyway, maybe it's one of phoebe's uni friends.

As I open the door, I look up to see the face of a man. He looks slightly familiar somehow, but I don't know from where.With dark hair and a sharp jaw, he looks like he could be any hot dude on the street. "Hey?"

The man gives me a warm smile, like one would give a friend or a neighbour. "You must be Rory. I'm a friend of Phoebe's." He greets. I guess I was right.

"Yeah no worries, I'll go get her." I move to close the door, but he jams his foot in between it. "No, that's quite alright. I just wanted to drop this off for her." He holds out a small box with a window to look inside. A cupcake. That's sweet.

"Okay, I'll make sure to give it to her." I smile and he smiles back. "What did you say your name was?"

"She'll know who it's from." He says before turning around and heading down the street, quick to disappear into the darknesss.

Odd.

I close the door, making sure to lock it and head towards Phoebe's room. "Bee, someone came to drop off a cupcake for you." I say.

There's no response, so I knock. "Look I'm sorry for being a bitch, you were right and I won't move in with the guys. Can we talk?" Still no response.

Weird.

"I'm coming in." I say before opening the door and switching on the light. The room is empty, devoid of a few of the boxes she had yet to unpack. On the bed is a note from her saying she's sorry and that she's moving out and will be back to get the rest of her things later.

My heart twists and I sit down on her bed, staring at the pretty cupcake in my hands. Why didn't she mention moving out to me? She didn't even send a message or anything. Anger bubbles in me, I thought we were good friends, I gave her a place to stay and she didn't even have the decency to warn me she was leaving.

I open the box containing the cupcake and pick it up.

A small part of me tells me not to do it, but the petty part is much larger.

And so I take a bite.