𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

Life's A Bitch.

(2nd Edit)

꧁His Sinful Desire꧂

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.

"Clubbing Sadie? I have midterms in two weeks and you want to go clubbing?" I asked with a groan as I zipped up my jeans and put on my jacket over my red striped halter top.

"Come on, it's a fabulous nightclub. I've been there tons of times, it'll be so fun. There'll be drinking, dancing and hot guys," Sadie said wickedly. "Besides as you said, midterms is two weeks away. You have plenty of time to study."

"Sadie you know how badly I want to get my bachelor's degree so I could fulfill my dream of becoming an interior designer. If I don't pass my exams that'll be a whole year wasted," I patiently explained to her.
"But why interior design? Couldn't you work for an insurance company? Or a law firm?" she inquired. "Or even real estate."

"Sorry Sadie, but I can't talk right now, I have to leave soon and I have the afternoon shift down at the clothing store. Can I talk to you later?" I asked reaching over to close my window.
"Sure no problem, take care Jasmine," she said cheerfully as she hung up the phone.

I sighed and took a seat on my bed so I could tie my shoelaces, thinking about what Sadie said about working in insurance. To be honest the thought's crossed my mind before but as always I ignored it and focused on my current agenda: designing.

My father Ivan worked in insurance. He and my mother Rebecca lived in Colombia with my brother Andrès and the rest of my extended family. I also had a big sister named Andriana, but she moved away from Colombia three years ago. After I graduated high school, I moved to New York to attend college.

Graduates were usually seventeen or eighteen, but I was the exception. I was intelligent and never had to struggle in school. I got straight A's and passed all my subject with flying colours. Well besides Math, that was my most hated subject. I was fluent in Spanish, it being my mother tongue and Biology was my favourite subject.

My teachers said I was a genius and it showed in everything I did. So my principal pulled some strings and I graduated one year ahead of my class. I left Colombia and moved to New York where I worked at a clothing store to get some extra money in my account. I rented an apartment, and with my scholarship, got admitted into St Francis College where I was pursuing my bachelor's to become an interior designer.

It's been my dream ever since I was a little girl. My father wanted me to join the family business, but I had no interest in sitting behind a desk working for someone else. I wanted to be my own boss, to become independent, to strike out in my own direction.

My father and grandmother highly disapproved of me, a sixteen year old girl, migrating to one of the biggest cities in the world alone just to attend college. They didn't deem it necessary to go so far away when there were colleges right in Colombia. My mother didn't share their opinion and gladly supported me. Now I was seventeen and was about to finish my second semester.

The only stumbling block was my landlady, who was constantly sticking her nose in my business. She figured seventeen was too young an age for me to be living in New York by myself. All of her tenants were in their mid twenties and over, me being the youngest to ever rent. Maybe she thought I was an irresponsible teenager who couldn't be taken seriously and needed to be kept under close surveillance. Ugh she was such a pain in my ass.

Now fully dressed for the day, I carefully brushed my waist length honey blonde hair and put it in a ponytail, gelling the top to keep the unruly strands down. Hopefully it'll stay put for the day. After applying a bit of eyeliner and mascara, I grabbed my bag and laptop and left my apartment.