The Apartment

His apartment is a cute little thing, very nicely dolled out, with bold colors dashed across the room. It's organized but not coolly so - he's careful to project a sense of welcoming and comfort. Neatly arranged rows of shoes are offset by cushions that are carelessly tossed about. He doesn't want the militaristic neatness to seem oppressive to anyone, lest it force them away. There's a 'warm lighting' policy that forbids harsh, florescent glares from intruding into private moments. Warm, dim glows illuminates the living quarters and throws flattering shadows onto Marilyn Monroe's coy smiling posters. An asymmetrical glass-and-steel coffee table hints at his modernistic and stylish flair, while framed posters of classic movie stars give us glimpses of his secretly old soul. The living room is inviting and hospitable - many guests have told him so - and he takes a lot of pride in making people feel comfortable and welcome.

The bedroom, however, tells a vastly different story. Everything is minimalistic here - none of that indulgence that was so apparent in the living room. If the theme of the living room is 'indulgence', then the bedroom must be 'spartan'. Only the bare essentials are apparent there: There is a bed - rather, two mattresses pushed together on the floor - and there is a desk and there is half a closet. The only evidence of any excessivity is found in the closet without a door, where jackets, blazers, suits and shirts are organized based on occasion, material, color and season. Apart from that, the room is barren with beige walls and a solitary and lonely James Dean poster. The odd hugeness of the room, uncommon for a bedroom, only makes it seem even more hollow. The only source of light comes from a cheap Target floor lamp that overexerts itself as it feebly tries to brighten up the room. 

The apartment has unconsciously became a reflection of his self. His public personna, the side he reveals to guests, is warm and welcoming, stylish and exuberant. His truer side, however, where he sleeps and is most vulnerable, is left unattended to. As long as he keeps it inside and place all his efforts into keeping up appearances, no one, except those that have been in his bed, will know the real state of his being. Besides, he doesn't spend much time in there, not while awake anyways. He doesn't like remembering how he bawled his eyes out in on the first night he ever slept in that very bed.

In many ways this an apartment for two. For reasons unknown to him, his bathroom was made with two sinks, but he always sticks to one. Perhaps he's saving that one for someone he's yet to met, who would claim that sink as their own. Some couples give each other drawers, he gives out sinks. Everything he buys he buys in twos, evidenced by his matching sets of two bowls, two plates, two mugs and two glasses. Exactly two. He doesn't know why - he only ever uses one, but like it is with the sink, maybe he's getting himself prepared. Maybe sometime the other set will get some action.