Page 19 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

There will be two men in my house—one a stranger—and it's sent my nervous system into overdrive. I've had to visit thebathroom multiple times this morning, and I've felt close to puking more than once. Now I'm cleaning, hoping I can burn off some of this adrenaline.

Men.

In my already-miniscule apartment.

With the door closed.

And one, surprisingly, has a resemblance to The Director.

It was such a shock when I turned around and saw Sean at the convention as he stood there, watching me. My first thought was,The Director has a brother. RUN!

I don't understand it myself since The Director isn't Asian but Sean is. It might be the way Sean styles his hair, which is pushed back like a slick black cap, or maybe it's the blend of sharp and soft angles on his face. I just see The Director in his features, even though Sean has gentle eyes and carries himself in a very calm, collected way.

My stomach clenches like a fist. I pause my scrubbing to press a palm against my tummy. It's wrong, so wrong that my traumatized brain is painting someone dangerous over this man who saves lives. The injustice of it makes me want to scream.

As we talked, his relaxed energy worked its way around me like a fluffy blanket, putting me more and more at ease as I acceptedits softness. So that's a major difference, because The Director always made me feel like snails were crawling over my body, coating me in slime. Where Sean's presence feels steady and reassuring, The Director's presence was a violation waiting to happen. Yet my broken mind keeps superimposing one over the other, like a double-exposed photograph I can't separate.

I really don't know what's happening, I only know it's unfair to Sean.

Maybe I was just having too much anxiety at the conference, so I saw the ghost of The Director coming for me. I mean, Sean did startle me. I understand why he was following me, but I was still scared for a few minutes until he explained the situation. So today, I'll probably just see Sean and not think of The Director at all. Sean is here to help and that's all I need to focus on.

I think I'm actually more nervous about the second bodyguard Sean is bringing. I know nothing about him. But, I understand. If I want around-the-clock security, well, the security guard needs to sleep. And two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? As long as they're not on me, then it's all fine.

But they will be on me.

I drop the sponge near the faucet and peel off my gloves. Then I chew on my lip as if trying to eat it. I decide to stop stripping metal from the sink with my voracious scrubbing. It smells a little funky in here, so I should light a candle.

I move from the sink to the living room. My bare feet are silent on the worn hardwood floors because I know exactly which spots creak and avoid them instinctively. The afternoon light filters through the venetian blinds I keep perpetually closed, casting prison-bar shadows across my coffee table. Twenty-three candles sit there in various heights and scents because I ran out of room on my two shelves. My candle collection is growing like a small forest of glass and wax. I really need to stop buying them, but at least today one of them will have a purpose. I light the vanilla one and let it work its magic to mask the old-building smell.

With that done, I return to the open-concept kitchen, which only takes a few steps in the tiny space. I grab a rag. The stainless steel fridge has some smudges, so I should work those off. I spray and wipe. Spray and wipe. Every tiny circle my hand does on the cool metal makes the tiny sharks swim faster in my stomach.

Was hiring security a mistake?

I'll be watched. And studied. All the time. Though I like the security cameras at work, what if I can't tolerate them in my home?

Sighing, I toss the dirty rag in a bucket. I'm overthinking this. I need to know whether I have a stalker or I'm crazy, and this is the best way to do that.

Just as I'm debating whether to clean the oven, even though I cleaned it last week, my phone vibrates and rattles on the kitchen counter.

It's a text from Raven. Her name on my screen instantly soothes my frayed nerves.

RavenMad:TODAY'S THE DAY LUV!! Security setup!! You excited or freaking? Both?

I smile despite myself. Raven has this magical ability to cut through my chaos with her straightforward energy.

Londyn83:Freaking. Definitely freaking. They'll be here any minute.

RavenMad:Deep breaths. They're the good guys!

Londyn83:Yeah. Logic says this is the right move. My anxiety says this is a terrible idea and I should hide in the bathtub. Continue your saga, please. I need something to distract my brain.

RavenMad:Well! Good news! Landlord FINALLY sent an actual plumber for the ceiling hole! AND the same day, my shower started working after being broke a fewweeks. But surprise! Now the kitchen sink is leaking. I opened a new maintenance ticket and kind of want to see my landlord's face when he sees it. Hehe

A laugh bubbles up from my chest.

Londyn83:Your apartment is cursed. You need an exorcism, not a plumber.

RavenMad:RIGHT?? I'll get a priest next time. So tell me more about this Sean bloke. You didn't give me much last time. You only said he was cute.

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