Levels of Organization: A FC/UC Short

Free-Jones Apartment
New York City
United States of America
July 2119

When they were discussing the logistics of their apartment, one of Elena’s requests was enough space for her own materials. Ansel blinked (he had been sketching a rough layout of their dream apartment) and asked her to specify. Elena then turned a light pink and mumbled that she needed space for her different art materials.

He just smiled and added “more space for Lena” as a footnote.

Elena’s requests actually made the whole hunting process much easier for them. They crossed off apartments that seemed too small, apartments that were made for easy living and not for stay-at-home working. Upon finding The Apartment, Ansel and Elena were ready to fix their own individual workspaces.

Elena wanted a place where she could concentrate on the different forms of her craft. She needed a place where she could fit shelves for her scrapbooks; she needed a place where her different coloring materials could fit. On another hand, she also needed a place where she could graphic design with ease on her laptop.

In her old apartment, her study was nearly a mess as everything was all over the place. Markers mixed with paintbrushes and watercolors, for some reason, ended up where she put her ball pens and highlighters. She didn’t sort her scrapbooks according to newness and sometimes ended up drawing in ones that hadn’t been opened yet. Different novels were scattered on the floor, ones to be read stacked in piles and affixed with a red sticky note.

(Whenever Amelia visited, the older lady would huff and proceed to tidy up the hurricane that was Elena’s office. Elena would grin sheepishly and try to help, to which Amelia always swatted her hand away and asked her to make them some coffee.)

Visiting Ansel and observing how he took care of his apartment made her shrink slightly upon realizing that if they ever moved together, Elena needed to get her shit together – figuratively and literally.

“How’s your fixing going, Lena?” Ansel asked. He had been in the kitchen, cooking up something for both of them while Elena set up. “Do you need help?”

“Nah – I can do this on my own,” she replied. Elena stood up and wiped her face with the face towel, “Though I could use some of your miracle cooking. What did you make us?”

“Nothing special. Just a tuna sandwich and a hazelnut banana one,” he gestured to the two plates in his hands, “Which one do you want?” Without replying, Elena came forward and kissed his cheek as she took the plate containing the banana-hazelnut sandwich. This made Ansel smile amusedly, “Of course.”

 “You’re the one who wants to try and lessen their sugar intake.” She poked his nose with her free finger and then proceeded to bite into the sandwich, closing her eyes. “Ansel. Why don’t you work for the coffee shop like me?”

“I’m thankful for the offer, but I think I’ll do better behind the camera.” He flashed a smile and ushered her to the dining area, Elena taking a seat and continuing to eat. “How’s your office going?”

“It’s alright, really.” Elena set down the sandwich and wiped her mouth. “Bleh. I just need to figure out where my boxes go.”

“Boxes?”

“Mhm – the boxes for my spare sketchpads,” she explained. “I keep my current ones on the shelves, the new ones in a white box, and the old ones in a black one,” she listed. “Then for cabinets, the first drawer will contain my different drawing tools, the second will have different paints, and…” she made a face, “Fuck. I don’t know what the third drawer will have.”

Ansel thought about it for a moment. “Brushes?”

“Nah, they’re in the second drawer. Fuck it,” she exhaled. “I’ll figure it all out later. After I eat.” He nodded and the two ate in comfortable silence, Elena thinking deeply about which materials went where. She shifted in the set and Ansel noticed.

“…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s – it’s just, I’ve never been the most organized person,” she admitted. Ansel listened. “In my old apartment, all my shit was just scattered about. Amelia would always tidy up when she’d come over. In fact, she’d call my workspace a hurricane,” she said with a dry tone, to which Ansel had to smile at. “But everything would always go back to being a mess and I figured, eh. Might as well just leave everything in a state of disarray.”

“But why the change of heart?”

Elena hesitated. “I saw your apartment. Rather – your study space. Or your working area, whatever. I saw how neat it was and just felt really damn embarrassed,” she muttered, cheeks turning pink. Ansel blinked, “It’s weird because you’d expect a girl to be really neat, color-coded, and organized. But I just chuck stuff into drawers and barely arrange anything right. Even my palettes on Photoshop aren’t arranged that well. Probably explains why I don’t have my life set right,” she joked.

She noticed the troubled look on Ansel’s face and rushed another explanation, “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s more like…it’s more of a wake up call for me. I’m an adult. I should get my shit together.” She waved it off and bit into her sandwich again, meeting Ansel’s gaze. “Free.”

“Sorry.” He attempted to smile again, “I didn’t know my being a neat-freak would end up making you change. Even just a bit.”

“It’s a positive change,” she assured him. “A really good change. Trust me. Plus, I don’t want my paints to scatter. We’re sharing an office, after all, and I know that messy conditions aren’t exactly the best…considering the intense editing you have to do.”

“I’ve gone through worse.” Ansel patted her hand, “I don’t think your ‘mess’ can top that.”

“Top…?”

“It’s a long story.” He glanced back at their office, where he could already spot the different-colored boxes. “I’ll tell it later. But for now, I think I have a few things which can help you out.”

* * * * *

It took them the rest of the day, but they were able to finish Elena’s side.

She had a long desk; beside it was a cabinet of the same color with three different divisions. With Ansel’s quick thinking, the two were able to label the different divisions just as Elena specified. Under the desk were two boxes stacked on top of each other, one labeled ‘NEW’ and the other labeled ‘OLD’.

On the desk a lamp which she brought from her old apartment. Next to the lamp was a small houseplant, which needed little maintenance (Ansel picked it out for her). Other things on her desk included the following: Elena’s current sketchbook, a penholder that contained USBs, and her external drive. The laptop was plugged in and charging.

There was a large corkboard set up above her desk, then a few bookshelves. The corkboard was still bare, but the bookshelves already held a few novels as well as magazines and graphic novels here and there.

Elena grinned at what she and Ansel were able to accomplish. “This went better than I expected, Retel.”

“See?” he pulled Elena closer to him and ruffled her hair affectionately, “Told you we’d be able to pull it off.” She gave a satisfied hum and turned to her soul mate, planting a light kiss on his lips. The male grinned.

“I think you deserve a reward–”

“The reward is for you, sweetheart.” Ansel winked at her and Elena flushed red. “Come on. We’ll work on mine tomorrow.”

“You think I can help out?”

He took her hand and squeezed lightly, “I’m already looking forward to it.”