The Getaway Prince

Chapter 1: Tim

The echo of the only pair of gold hoops that I owned, hitting the base of my purse as it made contact with the glass entrance table, reverberated through our small apartment.

I sighed as I tossed my keys in the bowl beside my bag and kicked off my flats. The waistband of my black slacks dug into my hips, and I undid the belt (which, between us, was more for fashion than purpose), causing instant relief.

“Bree?" I called, making my way to the fridge for a snack.

I opened it and stared into the abyss of fruit and vegetables while my stomach called for something truly chocolatey. Every New Year, Aubrey and I made the same resolution: to be healthier, less sh*ttier versions of the people we were the year before. Often, I pride myself on my dedication. But like most things in my life, I find I'm always yearning for something more.

When I didn't get an answer, I groaned and grabbed a bag of baby carrots and leftover hummus while punting the fridge door closed with my heel before walking around the island and down the hall to Aubrey's room. I took a bite of the carrot in my hand and listened at the door for any suspicious noises, and then lazily turned the door handle, welcoming myself in and plopping down on her empty bed.

Aubrey turned from her laptop screen and pulled down her wireless headphones. On her screen sat open a word processor, minimized enough that she could see the next assignment she was working on, in addition to scrolling through her social media on the side. Don't get me wrong, Aubrey is intelligent—it's why she got into the top master's program for marketing—but when it comes to online presence, she's on an entirely different level.

“One of those days, huh?"

I answered her with a grunt and bit into my third carrot, lathered in yellow speckled dip. I swallowed it down, despite every being in my body craving for sweetness, and stared up at the decorative ceiling fan that lit up the darkening bedroom.

Aubrey removed her headphones from around her neck, setting them on the desk, and adjusted her position in her chair so she was sitting fully sideways.

“Was it as unpleasant as you look eating vegetables?" she teased. The thing is, she was absolutely right.

I turned my head to her. “It's that obvious?"

Aubrey narrowed her eyes, and I rolled mine. I shoved the carrot in my hand back into the bag and closed the lid on the hummus. “All I ask for is a day where I don't get accused of sh*t that isn't even my fault. You know, today, I got yelled at by my boss for inputting client information wrong into the system, even though the file was created before I started?"

“Tim?" Aubrey asked, even though she didn't need to.

“F*ckin' Tim," I repeated with an exasperated and defeated breath. “I can't even exist without getting blamed for someone else's problem. You'd think sales, where communication is key, would have employees that know how to…I don't know…communicate?"

“So then quit."

And almost in a sort of response, my body instantly sat up and I stared at her, blinking continuously prior to speaking.

“You're kidding, right?" Only the look in her eyes told me she wasn't. “Okay, let's play this out. Say I listen to you, and I quit. Then what? I'd have little to no opportunity to find a replacement job, so I'd have no money for rent or bills in general. You're in university and have enough on your plate with student loans. We both have a combined $5,000 in savings, so we'd barely scrape by for a month, especially with your alcohol addiction."

I glanced at Aubrey who muttered a 'hey' under her breath and flashed me a quick smirk. I smiled in return and then exhaled. “It's a nice idea, Bree. But not feasible."

“Neither is being depressed every day. You need to learn to stick up for yourself. If you don't, who will?"

“You?" I said, looking at her hopefully.

Aubrey chuckled to herself and then stood up from her seat, making her way to the spot on the bed beside me.

“I'm serious, Liv. I hate seeing you let people take advantage of you. You're worth so much more than that stupid job."

I looked down at the golden ring that occupied my thumb—the small diamonds in the band glowed under Aubrey's bedroom light as I twisted it back and forth.

My voice came out quieter than I expected as I was mesmerized by what memories this single item most likely held. “I wasn't before."

Aubrey's loud groan pulled me back to reality. “Really? We're going to play the 'Woe is me, I'm an orphan,' story again?"

My eyes widened and jolted upwards. I slapped her arm and snickered.

Aubrey laughed until both of us fell silent. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and sincere. “You deserve happiness. You're a bad a** and you need to start seeing it for yourself."

Out of anyone that had ever come and gone in my life, Aubrey was one who had stayed with me. She was more than my roommate and best friend: she was the family I never had. Sure, after I was adopted, I guess you could say I had family, but let's just say if you measure love in terms of affection and time given, I was completely and utterly deprived of it.

But quitting my job…that was a big change and something I'd have to prepare for. I promised myself and her I'd do it one day, only it wouldn't be today.

The ring got looser the more I turned it against my thumb. All of the next day, Aubrey's words played in my head as I drummed my fingers against the keyboard at my computer. The more I typed, the more pointless this all felt. I was wasting my life away here for what? To earn income? Yeah, that important…but is it worth me being unhappy for the foreseeable future? Some might say yes, but I heard Aubrey loud and clear, yelling no.

So loud in fact that eventually, after a client berated me and my boss threatened to fire me if I kept up with this 'decline', I quit. On the spot. With no backup plan and $2,000 in savings.

F*ckin' Tim.