1 Enter: Sin

PRESENT

Claudette Deveraux

A gentle tap on my bedroom door takes my attention away from the paper I'm trying to write. I'm mildly irritated but I will myself to not let it show on my face as I go to answer.

It's Sin. I don't know if that's his real name or a nickname and I don't care. His tall frame is leaning with one arm at the top of my door frame while he holds a half empty bottle in his other hand.

"Hey," Sin greets with a seemingly genuine smile that makes me think he's happy to see me.

"Can I help you?" I try to keep my voice soft while letting my lips curve into a tiny smile so as not to look angry because of my resting bitch face. I learned in high school that if I don't smile people think I'm unhappy and I couldn't afford to get comfortable around him enough to be my normally withdrawn and inattentive self.

"You're missing the party," he peers into my room even though I didn't invite him.

"I'm working on a paper," I clarify, still confused as to what he wants.

I'm not stupid. I know I'm attractive and this place is filled with men but there are enough women to keep them occupied and I've made myself next to invisible. I feel fatigued and the onset of a headache. I really don't have time for small talk with a brainless egotistic beta male armed with an inflated sense of relevance. I have a paper due in two days. I know myself well enough to accept that I can't cram to save my life and while I can produce a subpar academic piece by the final date it won't be good enough to raise or even keep my current weighted average mark. I promised myself before this trimester began that I'd put all my efforts into getting to at least an 80 from my current 76.8. That was three weeks ago and over that time I've gone through enough to trigger my pre-existing anxiety and raise my stress level. I struggle to keep a polite demeanour and hope I don't look as hostile as I'm starting to feel. To be fair, he's done nothing wrong. I'm just tired and overwhelmed.

"Wanna take a break?" he shakes the bottle towards me enticingly.

"I'm a wine girl," my tone is smooth but even a stranger like him can see just how exhausted I am as I rub my temple.

"I'll drink for the both of us," he pushes past me and into my room uninvited. I predicted this happening eventually. I may have been given a room to stay but it didn't come with respect for my personal space. I want to yell at him to get out, but I would look crazy and I have no real power in this goddamn place.

He sits himself down on my desk chair, blocking me from my laptop but that's not what gives him away. It's the fact that he's left my bed as the only place for me to sit that does. He plans to ply me with drinks and conversation as shallow as a piss pool before he makes his move. And I'll have nowhere to move expect deeper into my bed. I don't know if he does this consciously. It doesn't matter. The representation remains the same. So, I lean against the wall and cross my arms. If homeboy has any social skills, he's ignoring the obvious signals I'm sending his way. Message: Get the hell out.

"How are you settling in?", Sin takes a swig of his Bourbon from the bottle. Gross. If he ever got drunk and faceplanted in front of me I would walk all over him to get to my destination without a single thought about helping him up.

Does that make me a bitch?

Maybe.

Do I care?

No.

"Fine."

"Wolf says you're a busy girl. All over the place. Haven't given him a break all week."

Wolf is the person they assigned to follow me everywhere I go. It's not as annoying as I initially thought it would be. He keeps his distance and I'm fine with that as long as he doesn't try to associate with me publicly. I don't want my friends to know about my current predicament. It's embarrassing and degrading.

"Work and uni keeps me busy."

"No boyfriend?" he fishes and I hate not being able to outright tell him that he doesn't have a snowballs chance in hell with me.

"Not keeping me busy," is all I offer as elaboration.

I'm not in contact with Kai for a thousand complicated reasons and the reminder expands the already hollow feeling in my chest. I quickly shut myself down before letting my thoughts go down that rabbit hole.

"Then he's not doing a great job, is he? Girl like you…" he doesn't finish his sentence. Just takes another swig from his bottle while letting his warm hazel eyes glide down my body. He thinks he's slick. I think he's trash. He caught the bit of sadness I let slip when reminded of Kai and thinks I'm too vulnerable to turn down comfort. He might not be saying it outright but he's the type that works up to it.

"Woman," I correct him as I check my nails.

He just smiles at that and turns to my laptop. It annoys me that he's so comfortable in my personal space. My irritation only amplifies when he reads my essay title.

"Looks like you haven't done a lot of work here. Uni giving you a hard time?" he asks as he turns back to me.

"It's nothing I can't handle. I just need to write out what I've researched and hopefully it's a good piece. The Middle East's political system has a lot of content and I want my essay to be well thought out with a clear and concise argument. It's just going to take some time to get there," I can't hide the passion that I feel for my work and he seems interested.

"I hope it works out for you," I can tell that he means that and it makes me dislike him a bit less. "What are you planning to do once you graduate?" Good question.

"I'm not sure. I'm doing a double major in Public Relations and International Relations. They give me a lot of career options but I'm indecisive. For now, I'm just investing my energy in doing everything I can for my grades and when the time comes, I'll weigh my options and go for whatever gives me the highest career progression opportunities."

He looks at me in a way I can't decipher.

"You're cute when you talk-

He's cut off by a high pitched nasally screech, "Are you fucking kidding me? You leave me all by myself downstairs to come into some other bitch's room?"

A woman with a crazed look in her eyes swings my door open wide. I'd left it ajar when Sin came it. She stomps towards him with accusation in her eyes. Great. More people in my space. I do not need this right now. I feel myself getting colder even though I know the temperature in the room didn't drop and I feel the sudden urge to cry. I have so much to do and I clock into work at eight tomorrow morning. Taking the time I need to get ready and have breakfast I'll have to be up at six and I need to get work done before I sleep. And I need to sleep if I don't want to be awful throughout my shift. I know that there's going to be a long drawn out scene in front of me and there's no way for me to stop it. I want to be out of here and in my own space, but I stay rooted where I stand as the woman comes to a stop in front of Sin.

He is now leaning on my chair like a spoilt, entitled child and looking at her like she's dirt under his boots. I can tell this is a fight she won't win because it's clear that he doesn't care about her and she, at the very least, lets his opinion of her determine how she views herself.

"Dixie, I told you to stay downstairs."

"Why? So, you can fuck this bitch behind my back? After all I've done for you, this is how you repay me?" She turns to me like I'm the enemy and not her trash boyfriend.

I don't say anything to defend myself though. This isn't my fight. And if I'm being honest, I'm too busy trying to warm myself. I can feel the unease in my stomach and my tears are fighting to break free. I need these people to leave so I can stay on schedule. But they just keep going. My impassive front has most likely shattered, but I have no energy to fix it.

"What do you think you're doing alone with my man, you slimy bitch?" she spits and she walks towards me. Her vocabulary is obviously limited.

I'm not sure why she's making this about me. I need her to leave. I need them both to leave but it's clear she won't until she's let out whatever pent up aggression she has. I'm not going to do well with this paper. And I'm definitely going to be awful at work tomorrow.

My hands come up to cover my face as the tears slip. I'm having a panic attack in an unsafe place, surrounded my people who have no regard for my well being.

So, this is what it feels like to die slow.