Chapter 178 I Went Back To He Hotel 2

• I led the way – and now I was really self-conscious. Ryan had always lived in a nice suburban home, and now he was touring the United States as a rock star and staying in luxury hotels. By contrast, my studio apartment was a piece of crap. The kitchen was basically a dorm refrigerator, a battered microwave, and a sink. It also had the smallest oven range and stove in the world – not much bigger than the Fisher Price playset I’d had as a preschooler.
• I exaggerate a little… but not much.
• My furnishings were all pretty much courtesy of Goodwill – although I’d gone to considerable ends to make sure all the furniture matched. There just wasn’t much of it. I ate and wrote at a small wooden table with two battered chairs. Five feet away was the sofa, and across from it the wooden dresser on which sat my TV and DVD player. Five feet away from that was the rickety metal frame for my bed. At least the mattress was new, as were the sheets and flowery comforter. The walls were ugly and the paint was chipping, but I’d tried to distract from that with a number of watercolor prints in frames.