@oxfordsnxtbrouge
She looked at the tailor shop with curiosity in her eyes. No. This can't be right? This place too... much. But it was the location where the address had sent her to. The shop, too, had a peculiar name: 'Kingsman'. On the display window were suit jackets made with velvet, cashmere, and tweed; it looked like something she couldn't afford. I can't afford these things.
Estela walked in the shop and the bell above the door chimed cheerily. The scent of wood and musk filled her lungs; it smelled like out of the old. Cloths of different hues and material were on the shelves and tables. Sample ware was also laid around, from dress pants, dress shirts, and coats. Her heels made noises as she padded around the shop tentatively, holding a letter from a person named Galahad that was sent to her recently with no return address (she never knew someone of that name, although the name was rather familiar to her... a book maybe?). The stationary the letter was written on was think and had the scent of sandalwood. The message was written formally and had the seal with an unfamiliar symbol, a K surrounded by a gold circle on the bottom. Of course, the envelope was also professional and it was sealed with wax with the same symbol on the stationary.
She then pulled out something out of her coat pocket, a medal from her grandmother that was passed to her. Her grandmother said that it belonged to her grandfather who passed away; her grandfather was mysterious, like a debonair of sorts, never really revealed anything to her grandmother at all on what he did for a living. Until a man dressed in a suit knocked on her door, told her that her beloved was dead, and was presented a medal. She was then instructed that there was a number and was told the phrase 'Oxfords not brouge'
'The man told me to call this number if you're in a rut. They'll help. I refused to call. I wanted Simon back. They never let me mourn for him. Keep it, querieda. Your grandfather would have given it to you too.'
Estela called the number because she had been in a rut. She got a bit of a heated fight that caused her to be in the clutches of the Metropolitan Police. She had no one to bail her, her parents died, her aunt was in some shitty vacation in the Azores (plus her aunt disowned her), had no job, had to quit chemical engineering school, struggles to pay rent, became a bartender with a short fuse...
At least this Galahad was nice to bail her out... she just needed to thank him.
There was a bell on the counter and she rung it with her heart beating at thousand times per second. "Hello? Anybody here?"