mayjailer
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Summary
“Can I help you?” the woman says, clearly irritated.
“Um,” Carol says, her voice coming out an octave higher than intended. She clears her throat. “Are you my Airbnb host?”
“Am I your— what, no. What?”
“It’s just… I have booked this house. On Airbnb.”
“I think you have the wrong house.”
“Isn’t this the house?” Carol says, putting her phone straight to the woman’s face.
“I can’t tell. You’d have to unlock your phone.” -
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Summary
Zosia gently waves the camera in the air. “Did you bring this with you because you want to go sightseeing tomorrow or what?”
Carol stares at her reflection in the mirror. She feels her face burn.
“I – uhm. No, I didn’t.”
“Then what’s it for?”
“Fuck,” Carol replies, exhaling through her nose. She turns to look at Zosia, or rather, look away while facing her. “You can say no or – god, I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable –”
“It doesn’t.”
“Oh.”
“But we won’t do it if you don’t ask.”
Of fucking course Zosia wouldn’t let her off the hook easy. Of course she’d want Carol to say out loud that she wants to have sex with her on camera, that she wants to take pictures of her, immortalize her body when it’s full of marks, thoroughly fucked, spent, glistening with sweat.
It’s yet another iteration of Zosia pushing her to her limits. Ask for what you want, take what you need, fuck me like I’m yours, don’t hold back. She could think of so many more, but the only thing she needs to come up with, right now, is an answer.or
the one where Carol asks Zosia to make a sex tape. Zosia loves the idea.
Series
- Part 2 of the menace upstairs
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Carol and Zosia spend one amazing night in Paris.
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Summary
Carol misses those nights when she took silence and sleep for granted. It’s been two weeks since they have stopped, and the repercussions are starting to show in the sluggish way she moves about in the morning. In the headaches that remind her of the worst kind of hangover. And in the irritation she feels at the slightest inconvenience, or even at her lack of inspiration when she sits in front of a blank document on her computer.
Well, maybe that last part isn’t entirely someone else’s fault. But still, she should do something about the fucking noise.
[...]
“Well, then? Do you need something?”
Carol takes a deep breath. For the first time since moving in this awfully sleazy apartment complex, she’s about to be the wet blanket everybody hates – or maybe appreciates for the intervention, she hopes.
“Yeah,” she mutters and points to the door. “Could you turn it down? I – I’m trying to get some sleep.”
The other seems to ponder her request for a second before shrugging. “It’s not that loud.”or
a new tenant moves in the upstairs apartment. She's loud, careless, annoying. And hot. And Carol has a hard time dealing with that.
Series
- Part 1 of the menace upstairs
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Summary
BEEEEEEEEEEP.
The honk comes without warning. For half a second, Carol thinks she has been shot.
Then it keeps going. A sustained, unbroken, eat-shit honk. The kind LA people deploy when they want to fuck you up as a person.
The honking stops. The Range Rover's window comes down.
"Are you leaving the space or not." The woman says it flat, and bored.
Carol puts her own window down. Slowly, for the fuck of it.
“No, lady. I'm not leaving. I’m parked. This is a parking space, and I have parked a car in it. Like a human being is allowed to. Your response to that was to put your hand flat on a horn for what, an hour? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
or
A feud for the ages. Two strangers let a parking incident burrow into their minds and slowly consume their every thought and action
Series
- Part 3 of Close Quarters