Chapter Text
San Diego. It's not a place I ever imagined I would ever live at this point of my life.
In high school I vowed that the second I turned 18 and could go off to college that I would go as far away from San Diego as I could. It's not that I had anything against this place or the people in it, I just knew that I wanted to go out there and explore the world.
I did explore. The summer I turned 20, I went backpacking in Europe until autumn.
The first place I went to was Spain. I had looked up photos and videos of the areas I wanted to visit in Spain before I went, yet when I was there firsthand, nothing could compare. It was so breathtakingly beautiful, it almost felt like it wasn't real. The beaches and the cities, the people, the buildings. All of it was to die for.
And then I went to France and suddenly beauty took on a new definition. The lines of gorgeous buildings, all built with their own charming characteristics took my breath away. The Eiffel Tower was more spectacular than I'd ever thought possible.
I didn't think it could get any better, and then I went to Switzerland, Sweden, and then the Netherlands, and finally Croatia. Each place held more beauty than the last, almost as if unreal. I spent months reveling at the most gorgeous architecture while meeting new people and eating out of this world food.
But then I missed my friends and family, and I missed the climate. I also really missed knowing where everything is. When travelling you have no idea where the nearest corner store is, but in your hometown where you grew up? You know it all. You know the people to avoid (kinda), you know the fastest way downtown, you know what restaurants to avoid and which ones stay open the latest after the bars closed.
So, I came back here and went back to school for a little before deciding that it wasn't the right move for me. I wanted to pursue the arts. The arts are notorious for being hard to break into unless you know the right people, and I somehow did know the right people, which is how I ended up where I am today, spending my days creating art.
Well, except for today. Today is what I call a turbo day. Turbo days are days when I have back-to-back tasks that eat up my entire day. The usually occur when I've been too lazy throughout the week to keep up with my chores, so I have to lug 'em all into one specific day.
For today, I have five stops. I need to go to the bank, the post office, the auto shop, the pharmacy, and the hardware store. Luckily, the bank, and post office are quick stops. I need to pick up papers at one and give papers at the other. The auto shop I only need to get new wiper blades, and the hardware store I need a new shower head. At the pharmacy I need to pick up my medication which can either take two minutes or twenty, so I always leave it for last just in case.
As I'm driving to the hardware store, my car's screen lights up and shows that I'm getting a call from my dad. Without wasting a second I answer it.
"Hi, dad." I say into the phone.
"Say-Say!" my dad says happily into the phone. Ever since I can remember my dad has called me Say-Say or Sayo instead of my actual name, Saylor. All my friends have followed suite, adopting the much-adored nickname of Sayo. "Are you coming by soon?"
I glance quickly at the clock. 3:48pm.
"Yep." I say. "I just need to hit the pharmacy, then swing by hardware store really quick before I come by. I should be there by 4:30."
"Can you maybe grab a loaf of bread from the store on your way? You know that one your sister and you love?"
I try and make it a point to go to my parent's place for supper at least twice a month. It's something we started when my sister, Monica, moved back to San Diego. My sister is the type to always be at my parent's place. 10pm on a Friday? Monica is at my parent's place. A random Tuesday at 4pm? She's there. Not only is she there, but she's also texting me to try and get me to go over too so we can all be together, so we compromised, and all agreed upon a family dinner twice a month.
"Sure, I'll stop and get a loaf. Anything else?"
"No, that should be all." he says. In the background I hear the sound of my sister's voice floating through the house. "Mon just arrived. I better go entertain her."
I grin at the thought of my poor dad having to match the energy of my 23-year-old sister. As much as he tries, he can never keep up. She talks a mile a minute and doesn't seem to need to stop for air.
"Alright, I'll see you soon, dad." I say. We bid one another goodbye and then he hangs up to go deal with Monica.
As much as I adore my family, I don't see them nearly enough. My time is divided by my job and my friends. And, well, my family kind of drives me crazy. Crazy enough that I need to take a big breath before I go into a dinner with them because I know everyone - my sister especially, will be up to their crazy antics again. Still, I enjoy my time with them and bask in the night and laughter, enjoying every moment possible.
It's around 10pm when I finally get home from supper with my family, and when I pull into my driveway, I groan a bit to myself. My neighbour is outside which means I'm going to be subjected to his annoying conversations he always tries to trap me in.
As I'm trying to build up the courage to get out and face him, I see him take his phone in his hand and press it against his ear. This is perfect. He can't talk to me if he's in a phone call.
I don't waste a single second. I swing my driver's door open and quickly step out before heading to the trunk to grab all the items I got today. I grab everything in one arm, slam shut my trunk and make a beeline for my front door.
From the corner of my eye I see my neighbour turn towards me, probably to try and flag me down to try and talk to me. I ignore it and him and pick my pace up, taking my porch steps two at a time before I hastily unlock my door, step in and close it quickly behind me.
Safe at last.