The letter

“The floor’s sticky... why’s it so sticky?”

Esty let out a deep sigh and slowly lowered herself to the floor, her back pressed against the wall. Her luscious blonde hair was braided into a single plait which hung past her left shoulder. She twirled the rogue strands, which had managed to escape from her tightly bound bobble, between her fingers, as she recalled the several compliments that she had received during the party. She was a good-looking woman in her early twenties, so she wasn’t a stranger to people fawning all over her. But it was something about the seemingly innocuous comments concerning her “stunning” figure, or her makeup (that she had taken extreme care and thirty whole minutes to apply), that had particularly irritated her, causing her to regret her entire outfit for the evening. She gently placed her coarse hands underneath her chin to help support the weight of her head. She sat helplessly whilst self-doubt and insecurity began to accumulate inside of her.

“Esty, you’re not listening!”

Esty raised her head, her green, opal eyes shifting into focus as they fixated onto the broad-shouldered boy in front of her. James.

“Oh James, I’m so sorry,” she looked at him with an apologetic smile on her face, “I’m listening now.” James stared back with a curious expression, he tried his best to understand her, to navigate his way through the elaborate labyrinth of Esty Adams. They both knew that this was not possible.

“Why don’t you just hire a cleaner, Esty, you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t afford it.”

“Don’t pretend you know anything about my financial situation James, and whether I could or couldn’t afford a cleaner is really nothing to do with you.” Esty surprised even herself with the harshness of this statement but she continued, “and besides,” she said more kindly this time, “I don’t want to become like... them.” Her face shifted into a look of disgust, the corners of her mouth curling up as she emphasized the last word.

From James’ perspective she already was like them, from the way she talked and dressed, to the phony façade that she displayed to the rest of the world. He knew that hiring a cleaner would not alter this fact, but he also knew the stubborn and delusional nature of his sister, so he decided to keep his observations to himself and offered her a mop instead.

The apartment that had been bustling with people only a few moments prior was now empty, but the ghost of the excitement and joy that had just been still lingered about. James had expensive taste, and Esty, despite her previous statements, had the money to fund it. Together, they were an indestructible team, emptying out all the local shops so that their apartment was now cultured with an assortment of antiques, art and retro goods. They had locked away most of these items to prevent them from getting damaged during the party. However, Esty hated herself for the fact that she placed the most peculiar and rare of them in central locations of the apartment- as if she was trying to show her peers, that she too, was a person of culture and taste. Esty surveyed the apartment, mop in hand, to ensure that they were all still intact.

James’ overgrown, messy brown hair constantly fell in front his eyes as he leaned forward to wipe the worktops, causing him to brush it back with his hands every few seconds. Esty giggled at his incompetence and tossed a headband in his direction.

“Zainab Khan loves your work you know..” James began, quickly glimpsing at Esty to test her reaction before he continued, “she called you a comedic genius, claims she’s a complete fan and tunes in to see you every week.” Esty allowed him to continue to talk for a while, he began to describe his encounters with various celebrities that he met throughout the night. Although her thoughts were preoccupied, she nodded and said yes in all the correct places as he continued to talk in a child-like state of awe about the party.

Esty pushed the mop in a reciprocating motion across the hardwood floor, occasionally she picked up an empty bottle or piece of rubbish that James had missed whilst he was sweeping. Hesitant to interrupt, she waited until James had finished what he was saying.

“Did you know that Zainab was offered the role before me, the directors thought she would be a better match. She didn’t even have to audition..” Esty’s eyes remained fixed on the mop as to avoid eye contact with James. “She declined of course, apparently she thought that the plot was inconsistent and that the show would be a flop.” She chuckled to herself, even though critics and viewers alike had confirmed these statements not to be true, Esty couldn’t help but wish deep down that Zainab had just taken the role.

The furniture in the living room was pushed to the edges to maximize space. The pair of siblings worked together as they returned the couches and coffee tables to their original positions. Esty’s skinny arms barely contributed to carrying the weight of the furniture, but she knew that James in his forgiving nature would not confront her on this.  

Esty picked up a forgotten polaroid that had been discarded and now concealed underneath the rug. A beaming James looked out of the picture, with two unknown teenagers on either side of him. James adored the LA lifestyle, so he was savoring every moment he possibly could before he had to move out for college. Esty’s eyes welled up as she pocketed the picture, and the realization dawned upon her that she was not ready to lose her little brother yet. James had his whole life in front of him, and although Esty practically did as well, it did not feel that way.

James had gone to one of the bedrooms to retrieve the cushions and was now meticulously placing them on the couches. He puffed and angled them correctly, taking great pride in his work so that the living room looked perfect before sitting down next to his sister.

“I was in your bedroom and- I wasn’t intentionally snooping, I swear, but I found this.” James placed a sealed letter onto the table, with the words ‘New York university’ printed across the front. Esty’s ears burned red as she exhausted her brain thinking of an excuse, before she resigned to just telling him the truth.

When Esty finished talking, James eyes widened, and she waited anxiously for his response. She wanted more than anything for him to confirm and support her thoughts, for him to acknowledge that her aspirations weren’t crazy.

She longed for the day she could escape Los Angeles, escape the paparazzi, the afterparties and the drinking. So she could finally be rid of the immobilizing pressure of this seemingly impossible industry.

“Well, are you going to open it then?” James pushed the letter towards her.

“I can’t,” Esty looked away as tears began to build up in her eyes again.

“Why can’t you?” he replied.

“I just can’t okay, just drop it.”

But James did not drop it, instead he picked up the letter from in front of her and carefully tore open the seal. He ignored Esty’s protests as he began to unfold it, a grin appearing on his face as he read the first line.. “we are pleased to inform you.”

Peering over his shoulder, Esty looked at him with a sense of gratitude and, for the first time in a long time, hope.