Chapter 5

***Three years later***

Ginger came to a halt in front of a locked wooden door. He dropped the cardboard apple box he was holding onto the floor. His father took a step forward beside him.

"Are you sure about this?" he inquired, placing the box he was carrying on the other.

"Yes," Ginger agreed. "I need to be on my own," he stated.

"Your mother and I will miss you," Lance stated. Ginger inserted his silver key from his trousers pocket into the keyhole.

***click*** As he turned his hand, the lock clicked.

"I promised to come every weekend," Ginger replied as he opened the door. He took a box and entered his little one-bedroom flat. His father picked up the other box and followed him inside.

"As long as you're happy," his father explained.

***Two hours later***

At Ginger's apartment door, four boxes were stacked.

"Now, don't forget to call your mother and let her know you're fine," Ginger's father said.

"I won't," Ginger murmured, gently hugging him. They parted ways and proceeded into the corridor.

"Don't be a stranger," his father reminded him. Ginger cracked a smile. He saw his father turn away and walk towards the elevators. He returned to his apartment when he heard the elevators chime. He took the box cutters from the kitchen counter and began cutting open the first box. He took a tiny pot and a small fry pan from the cabinet beneath the stove. He placed the silverware in a drawer on the right side of the stove.

Ginger opened the second box, which contained his clothes and bathroom stuff, after organizing the kitchen. Ginger moved about each room, placing everything in its right place one by one. When he finished unloading everything, he sat down on the two-person sofa and reclined back.

"Thank goodness that's over," he said, exhaling slowly. He closed his hazel eyes and relaxed his aching muscles. The sun had started to set when he opened his eyes. He stretched his arms high above his head. He went into the kitchen and fixed himself a turkey and cheese sandwich and a glass of milk.

Ginger's phone rang as he ate. He unlocked the screen and accessed his messages. He had one from the art studio's owner, Alessa Milano. He read the message after opening it.

Greetings, Mr. Ginger May.

Could you please arrive at the studio around 10 a.m. tomorrow? A client wants a drawing of himself and his new wife. The gentleman stated that it would be a wedding-themed photograph.

Alessa Milano

Ginger completed his supper, cleaned the kitchen, and went to the bedroom. He grabbed peach pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He went into the restroom and set them on the counter. He walked into the shower after undressing and running the water for a few minutes. The shower was fragrant with flowers while he washed up. He turned off the flowing water, dried off, and dressed. He set his phone alarm for 6 a.m. and went to bed, wanting to get an early start. He shut his eyes and fell asleep.

Ginger had a nice shower and made himself an egg sandwich before walking out to the bus stop the next morning. He checked his phone to see what time it was.

"An hour before I meet with the client," he reminded himself. Despite the fact that the bus was quickly filling up with commuters, he found an empty seat in the back. He meticulously arranged his drawing materials on his lap. They came to a halt to let people off. Ginger took the last two blocks to the art studio on foot. He went into the office and sat on the sofa because it was 9:30 a.m. The next thing he knew, he had drifted off.

When a gentle hand shook Ginger's shoulder, his hazel eyes fluttered open. Alessa's face became visible.

"The couple has arrived," she stated.

"I'll be right out," Ginger answered, rising to his feet. Ginger departed the office and went into the men's restroom after Alessa left. He turned on the tap and doused himself with chilly water. He dried his face with a paper towel he took from a metal chute. He made his way to the main lobby.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," he began, but stopped mid-sentence. His hazel eyes widened, and a lump in his throat developed. His ex-boyfriend stood in front of him with a blonde woman holding onto his arm.

Ginger's chest clenched as his heartbeat quickened. The sounds around him had become muffled. The room spun as his vision blurred. Ginger bolted from the room when a hand reached for him. They looked mutely as Ginger turned a corner and disappeared.

"I'm sorry; let me check on him," Alessa apologized. Ginger found one of the empty offices, rushed inside, and locked the door behind him. He slumped down to the carpeted floor, pulled his knees to his chest, and rocked back and forth.

"What is he doing here?" Ginger cried.

Ginger dashed to a dark corner as the lock clicked.

"Ginger, are you in here?" Alessa enquired. Ginger let out a tiny whimper. Soft footsteps neared him. His vision was still fuzzy, but he could see the contour of a woman's face. Ginger shook as she touched one of his hands. "Do you want me to send them away?" she inquired quietly. Tears welled up in his hazel eyes. All he could do was nod. Ginger was assisted into Alessa's office and seated on a chair.

Alessa went to the main lobby after making sure Ginger was calm.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. May will be unable to fulfill your wish," she explained. "He's sick," she explained.

"I personally requested him," Thomas grumbled. "I want him to do the drawing," he stated emphatically.

"Sir, he is not feeling well," Alessa explained. "It would be best if you found someone else," she advised. With a huff, Thomas stomped out the door.

"I hope he feels better," the blonde murmured as she hurried after Thomas. Alessa watched as they left the parking lot.

"If that was Ginger's ex, he's a total asshole," she grumbled. She went back inside to check on Ginger.

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