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Faith pushed the door open, moving her way over to the lift, too tired to even consider the seven storey climb. It was a rickety beast, one that shifted and jolted with every movement. Jackie wasn’t in the lift today. They usually came back around the same time, but Jackie was probably staying late at the library. Faith sighed, jabbing the button and watching the flickering bulb desperately try to light up her number, failing at every hurdle.
She slumped into the corner, wincing as the metal seemed to cling to the fabric of her dress, more fond of the waitress uniform than her previous shelf-stocker one. She had a good run at this job, too. Employed for 2 weeks, coming up to a third. She hadn’t been that successful for years.
After what felt like a month, the lift clunked into place, and she stumbled into the hallway, scratching their flat’s lock as she fumbled with her key.
“Faith?” Judea’s voice rang out, and the door swung inwards, Faith almost collapsing inside. “Rough day?”
She nodded, and he sighed sympathetically, taking her bag.
“Jackie in the lift?” He winked at her, and a soft chuckle escaped from her lips.
“Not today,” She looked up at him, and they both moved over to the sofa, “You see Eric?”
“Oh yeah. He’s got new jeans.”
“Jackie had flares last time I saw her.”
“Are gays just,” Judea broke off, and laughed, trying to regain his composure, “Are gays attracted to denim?”
Faith curled next to the sofa arm, pulling off her dress, “Maybe a jacket’ll get Jackie to ask me out.”
“I’ll get jorts.”