A new city, a new life. Which was perfectly fine with him. Fabulous, even! His previous life was… not fantastic. It was drab. It was plain. It was draining the life out of him. Why, someone may ask? Well… the answer was, he wasn’t who he wanted to be. And it wasn’t like changing who he was would have been a huge disappointment to his friends. They would have been as supportive as they could, when he decides to abandon the sport attire for fashionable scarves and accessories. They would have been a bit confused by his new way of talking. And… honestly, the bit of personality change that had slipped out also caused anxiety. Was something wrong with Bea? Was Bea alright? Except, even that wasn’t his name back then.
Sure, they were his friends. And he spent a large part of his life with them. Which I why he couldn’t fault them for being confused and worried by the change. Sure, if he had explained it to them, they would have been completely accepting. But they would still remember the old Bea, before he was Bea.
And he wanted a fresh start.
So, saying his goodbyes to his roommates and packing up his boxes, he made sure to properly get everyone’s addresses before finally leaving that town.
So, with a sigh, he moved to the elevator… and discovered it down. Broken. Not even existing, really, so would it be broken? There was an elevator shaft but as for the elevator… he leaned his head through the gaping hole that they didn’t bother closing, before quickly stepping back. Great. Well, it seemed the building had a basement level!
Sighing and not thinking about the ten other boxes he had to carry up one by one, he began the trek. The stairwell was unpainted, imperfections and unfinished details everywhere. Even tools were left out. Here and there, he spotted a glove or a mask. Another thought hit him. Where were the workers? It was the middle of the day. A work day. Horrified, a thought came to him. What if the new management came after he decided to move into this apartment. And the new management couldn’t afford to keep up with construction. What if the apartment building was going to remain this way? Unfinished and dangerous?
Quickly, he settled his heart. No, no, no. First, move his stuff up. Then, go knock on door 101 and introduce himself, sign the contract, and ask the important questions.
Finally getting up to the third floor, he quickly found his door (which surprise, surprise, was unpainted and lacking trim! You could peek right into the apartment!), leaned the box between his body and the wall as he fished out the key and fitted it into the keyhole. The door opened. Showing him a thankfully finished apartment. Unfurnished but definitely more put together than the rest of the building. Sighing in relief, he carried the box over to where the small living room area would be, looking around. Yes, he could work with this. He could imagine his new life here. He could be who he wanted to be. Giving a wide smile, he moved around the apartment. It lacked the stains of a previous tenant. He would be the first to live here. Like him, this apartment would be starting fresh.
Okay, so maybe the apartment complex wasn't too bad after all.
He repeated the trip up and down the stairs 10 more times, panting and already regretting the lack of stairs by the eighth time. He definitely needed to say something about the elevator. Swallowing another large breath and peaning against the wall as he trekked down the hall to the door, he let out a weak shout of victory as the eleventh box was stacked into the living room.
Now... to talk to management. Except, not like this. Horrified at the idea of appearing like he was, as though he was still the same sporty exercise loving sheep he had been, he quickly went to the shower.... and discovered hot water didn't seem to be a thing yet. A shout echoed through the apartment and not 10 minutes later was a wet Bea looking through the boxes for his newly purchased hair dryer. Finding it, he got to work on drying himself off, pulled out a flashy piece of cloth to tie around his neck, slipped on some bracelets and fashion glasses, before deciding he was presentable enough to meet the landlord.
And so, he went back down to the first floor. Knocked on 101... no answer. He waited, knocked again. Still no answer. His eyes roamed the door and finally saw the fine print on the paper. Apparently, the landlord was on vacation until the weekend. Bea clenched his jaw. He was already not liking this landlord. If moving in and rent hadn't been free for the next few months.... muttering about useless people, Bea began to stomp back up the three flight of stairs. Cold water until the weekend, he supposed. He hoped the construction workers weren't also on vacation.
[w.c.: 852]