Twelve floors down

Joelle knew the silence would be different here. Bigger. More expensive. The kind that echoed. The elevator doors opened onto her floor with a soft ding, and she stepped out, dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her. A new apartment. New everything. Same ghost in her throat that chokes. Her shoes clicked lightly on the hallway tile as she stopped in front of unit 309. She stared at the number for a second longer than necessary lost in thoughts she let out a loud sigh then unlocked the door and stepped inside. The apartment looked exactly like the photos clean, sharp, trying too hard. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Stone countertops. Nothing that held a scent yet. She dropped the suitcase and stood there for a minute. Just stood. Listening to the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of her own breath. This was supposed to be a fresh start. But it already felt like a pause. An hour later, she was sitting on the kitchen floor, drinking wine from a chipped mug that said You’re Doing Great in faded pink script. She scuffed and smirked She wasn’t. Her back was pressed against the island cabinets. Legs stretched out, socked feet flexing against the floorboards. Her phone was face down on the counter, buzzing occasionally like it was clearing its throat her head staring at the ceiling like she was counting the boards ,weak and lonely . Joelle ignored it. It buzzed again. Melanie: Just one call? Please. She didn’t pick up. Instead, she grabbed the mug took another sip of that cold, dry red wine that probably should’ve been thrown out two moves ago and stared at the window. The city beyond was pulsing like a low fever. Taxi lights. Tail lights. The flicker of something cooking in someone else’s apartment far below. She didn’t know what she expected to feel. Relief? Closure? All she felt was tired,sadness,thought flickering through her mind like pages She got up eventually. Opened the wrong cabinet three times before finding where the mugs went. Tried to load the dishwasher and forgot she hadn’t bought detergent yet. Laughed once, without humor. Then remembered she had a package at the front desk. Something about that the smallness of the errand, the normalness of it gave her enough energy to grab her keys and head back to the elevator. She hit the button for the lobby. Waited. The doors slid open, and she stepped inside. The doors were just starting to close when they stopped halfway and opened again. A woman walked in barefoot, holding a peeled clementine in one hand and her phone in the other. Hoodie loose off one shoulder, dark hair messy in a way that felt intentional. Joelle shifted slightly, pressing herself into the corner. The woman glanced at her just once. And smiled. “Hey.” Joelle hesitated. “Hi.” Silence again. The elevator resumed its descent. Joelle stared straight ahead. The woman peeled another slice of clementine and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly. Like this wasn’t strange at all. “You just move in?” the woman asked, finally. Joelle nodded. “Yeah. Today.” “Nice. Nine’s a good floor.” Joelle didn’t respond. Didn’t really know how. The woman turned her body slightly, facing her. Not close, but not distant either. “I’m Talia,” she said. “Twelve floors down.” Joelle nodded again, slower this time. “Joelle.” Talia’s mouth curved not quite a smile, not quite anything. “You look tired.” Joelle blinked. “Thanks?” Talia laughed. “Not in a bad way. Just… like your brain hasn’t caught up with your body yet.” That hit harder than Joelle expected. She didn’t know how to respond to that either. The elevator stopped. Joelle stepped out first. She didn’t look back. Not really. But as the doors began to slide closed, she heard Talia say quietly: “Sleep’s better when you don’t fight it.” Joelle turned her head, just in time to see her barefoot, back against the elevator wall, eyes holding hers for a second longer than necessary. Then the doors shut. Joelle stood in the hallway. Her pulse was louder than it had been all night. Back inside, the apartment felt less quiet. Not warmer. Just less cold. She set the mug on the counter. Turned her phone over. Let it buzz again. She didn’t open the message. Didn’t answer the call. She stood at the window and looked out again. The city hadn’t changed. But something had. Not big. Not yet. Just a glance. Just a girl. Living down there