The names of the chapters are the songs that go with the story.
Chapter 1: Hometown Glory by Adele
It was truly beautiful, the sky. I stared out at from the plane's window and relished in the sunny view. Closing my eyes and letting the songs from my I-pod overtake me, the world around me drowned out as I enjoyed my own special moment of peace.
After four years of college, I landed a job in Las Vegas, of all places. It was a secretary's position in a law firm. When I first told my family and college friends where I was moving, they laughed, thinking I was joking. And really, it was a funny thought. Emma Sherwood, of all people, moving to Las Vegas. Shocking me the most, in all honesty. I'm not exactly the type of person to move to a place like Vegas.
However, when I was offered the job, I was determined. If I wanted to get my foot through the door of adulthood and start living on my own, then this was how I was going to do it. I would keep my chin up and live the life I had worked towards. Even though it was probably in the craziest place known to man…at least to was to me. And it didn't hurt that I chose not to live in the city itself but in a small suburban neighborhood twenty minutes away from city limits.
The process of traveling is always a long, drawn out one. I have a theory that it takes me longer to plan out a trip, organize my belongings, and travel to the desired location than the trip itself. Unlike vacations, though, this trip was going to be permanent. My heart pounded with excitement at the thought of that. Independence. It had finally all come. College was great, really. Not that I am a fervent partier. I'm not big on parties, at least the ones my fellow classmates had. Don't get me wrong, I really liked having fun, but getting heavily drunk and sleeping with every person within reach wasn't my idea of fun. Plus, my dancing is really dorky.
In all, I was very content with my choice to move. I had a great job waiting for me in Las Vegas, and a whole new house just for me. The neighborhood sounded great: very tranquil. It was really just what I needed. And the house itself, a two-story! An artist at heart, I was too excited to have a room for my own art studio. My work was becoming a bit of a nuisance for my roommate, Abby. Paintings, sculptures, and an infinite number of ceramic pieces covered every inch of our small, crowded two-bedroom apartment. By the time we graduated, her cat had broken at least two dozen pieces of my work. I am, however, still suspicious as to how that cat managed to drop one of the many doomed pieces, originally in the hallway (Abby had stubbed her toe on it numerous times,) out the window. I chose to forgive and forget though; just grateful it hadn't been one of my favorites.
Moving all my stuff out of the apartment was tough work. When we had finally packed every last thing, including my art, clothes, and furniture, it looked pretty bare. Apart from the dark blue walls I had painted four years earlier, not one piece of decoration was left. Knowing my nonchalant roommate would be silently overjoyed by this, I just had made her a little something to remember me by. It was a painting that looked like the album cover of her favorite band. Not many words were exchanged, but a couple tears were shed, and I'm glad they weren't all mine.
I smiled to myself after recalling this memory. My hands tucked inside my lap, I listened to the captain tell us on the radio that we would be landing soon. Thanks to our descension we could all finally look down at identifiable buildings. In the sunlight, Vegas didn't seem too intimidating. The older man next to me smiled at my expression. I must've looked relieved, or maybe frightened. I couldn't even tell myself.
"First trip to Vegas?" he asked, in a soothing voice. He reminded me of my Uncle Ben.
I returned a smile and replied, "Yes. Actually, I'm going to be working here in the city."
He hesitated, and responded with a feeble, "Oh." I was confused at his reaction, then ran over the conversation in my head. I had said 'working' there. He obviously thought I was some sort of exotic dancer. My mistake.
"I'll be working as a secretary at Willard's Law Firm." His face turned apologetic and relieved.
"Ah, James Willard! One of the most respected lawyers of the city. Good for you, Miss-" Reaching to shake my hand across the seat awkwardly, I took it and said, "Emma Sherwood." He again smiled and then looked outside the window. "Well, without the night, her lights don't shine. But I'm sure you'll have the time of your life havin' a good look tonight." We spent the remainder of the flight looking at the buildings below. He pointed out different hotels and his favorite pub he liked to go to when he visited.
Finally, the plane landed. As always it took a long time for everyone to retrieve their bags from the overhead compartment and make their way slowly out of the plane. I reached for my bag, but the kind old man that had sat next to me grasped it first, and gave it to me with a smile. I thanked him, and thought to maybe ask his name, but I couldn't see him after the successful departure from the plane. It was disappointing because he would've been the only person I knew in Las Vegas.
Author's Note: Reviews are most welcome:) All future updates and such will be posted on my profile.