What Am I Doing Here? || Taylor & Wesley
Slamming the bedroom window shut next to her bed, a chill ran through her as the draft still managed to seep through the small gap between the sill and window. Groaning inwardly at how run down her hotel room was, she turned around to throw herself onto the bed, head sinking into the pillow. A week had passed since her plane landed in London, and Taylor was still adjusting to pretty much everything. Not only was she in a completely new place, she was in a completely different country. She figured she would be okay; “you lived in the city before,” she had told herself, “London can’t be that different from Manhattan,” she had said. Pfft. Boy, was she wrong. Her first day in the big city she ended up on the wrong train somehow, and it had taken her the entire day (filled with train hopping and wasted cab fare) to find her way back to her hotel.
Sliding a hand down her face in exasperation, she sat upright, slapping her palms down on the rough comforter. Enough of this crap! She was Taylor Rockwell, the rockin’-est chick out of Maine, and she was better than this! Something crinkled in her pocket and as she reached in to pull it out, she already knew what it was: a business card from Angel Investigations. It had caught her eye a couple of nights before when she was walking out of a small café, its simple angel design stood out on the card’s white background. A passerby had seen her eyeing it on the bulletin board of the café on her way out, and he immediately snorted before leaning in to murmur under his breath,
“Their motto is they “help the helpless,” but word on the street is they deal with some weird shit. Like…” He glanced around before continuing, voice lower than ever, “weird things. Supernatural and demonic things.”
And with that he had walked off down the sidewalk, chuckling to himself. Weird things, huh? Needless to say, Taylor had a tiny little weird problem herself, and no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that the guy was crazy, there was a nagging voice inside her head that kept telling her to check them out. It took everything in her to get herself off the bed, out the door, and to wave down a cab that almost zoomed by but stopped quickly when it saw her hand.
“Angel Investigations, please. Um, here’s the address.”
She extended her arm out to the cabbie with the card in her hand, but he was already pulling the car back out into the traffic, with not even as much as a glance at the card.
“…Alrighty then. Guess you already know where it is.”
After what felt like an eternity, the cab pulled to a stop in front of a large building with no sign. Looking around, she asked the cabbie frantically, “Here??” He just stared at her through the rearview mirror, and so she pulled out a crumpled wad of money, dropping it into his awaiting hand before stepping out of the vehicle. Narrowing her eyes, she could see people inside the building, doing what looked like paperwork. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped in cautiously, taking it all in. There was an attractive rugged older man to her left, standing behind one of the many desks that were strewn about the room. Taylor finally worked up the courage to say something, but what came out might as well have been gibberish.
“Hi. Er, I mean, hello. I—I’m Taylor. Um..” Blinking nervously, she shook her head before pasting a smile on her face, turning around to walk right back out the door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”
