Chapter 1: I was too deep in my thoughts

The alarm clock rings.

I step into the shower.

My long hair cascades over my shoulders, drenched, heavy with water. It clings to my skin, cold against my neck. But I don’t mind. Even though it’s winter, even though I know I’ll shiver as soon as I step outside, I choose to leave it wet. Who cares?

I head out to walk the dogs. The sky is dark with rain, and droplets fall steadily, tapping against the pavement like a soft, rhythmic melody. My hair, already wet, soaks even more under the downpour. I should have brought an umbrella, but I didn’t. Maybe I like the feeling of rain running down my face. Or maybe I don’t give a shit.

Once the dogs have had their walk, I take them back home, drying their paws before stepping out again. Work awaits.

The streets are slick with rain, glistening under the glow of streetlights. The road leading to my parking garage is an uphill climb. My legs feel heavy. It’s too early. I’m tired. The cold gnaws at me, and my damp hair only intensifies the chill.

I reach the entrance of the building, a half-abandoned shopping center, where only the parking levels remain in use. A relic of better days, now a hollow shell of what it once was. My car waits for me in one of the underground levels.

I press the elevator button and wait.

And wait.

And wait...

This elevator is excruciatingly slow. Just like every (fucking) morning.

At last, the doors slide open with a tired sigh. A few people step out, their expressions blank, lost in their morning routine. I step inside, leaning against the cool metal wall.

“Mornin’,” I say absently, acknowledging the presence of the only other passenger.

“Hi,” a soft voice replies.

I glance up. We’re on the ground floor. I notice that the button for the first floor is already pressed. That’s odd, there’s nothing on the first floor. Just an empty space.

“Going up?” I ask, finally lifting my gaze to the young woman standing across from me.

And then, for a second, the world stops.

I am captivated. Completely. Entirely.

Love at first sight? No. I don’t believe in that nonsense. I’m too old for fairytales. But still, she is breathtaking.

She looks to be in her early twenties, with blonde hair tied into a high ponytail. Her outfit is effortlessly elegant, a dark blue dress that flares into a short skirt, a black leather jacket draped over her shoulders, a matching leather handbag slung over one arm. She wears high black boots that accentuate the graceful lines of her legs. A few piercings glint on her exposed ear, adding an edge to her refined presence. She carries herself with an air of quiet confidence, her expression serious, until I speak to her.

And then, she smiles.

A knowing smile, as if she, too, understands how strange it is to go up to the first floor.

“Yes, going up,” she says, her voice light, almost amused.

“Oh... right. No problem,” I murmur, suddenly feeling foolish.

The elevator hums softly as it ascends a single level.

The doors open.

“Goodbye,” she says, stepping out. Just before the doors close, she turns back, offering me one last radiant smile.

“Goodbye,” I echo, watching as the elevator swallows me back into solitude.

Descending to level -3, I shake my head at myself.

I’m an idiot. I should have asked for her name.

Will I see her again?

Tomorrow, maybe?