His Apartment

We advanced into one of the most lavish apartments in the city. I entered and stood in one place, stunned, with my eyes wide open, and my bag clutched due to my excitement. 

The apartment was spacious; adorned with luxe brown furniture. There was a cumbersome office table positioned in the corner. There was a wooden chair place right beside it with carvings on it, covered with Golden color. 

I noticed a leather sofa kept in the center of the apartment. 

A expresso wooden table was positioned in front of it. It had an antique box on it with numerous compartments in it, home to different nuts and chocolates. Under the expresso table was an off-white mat with sequence patterns on it. There was a Golden chandelier striking down the ceiling in the living room. The jewels hanging on it would sparkle iridescently when the light would hit them. My favorite part of the house was that it had multiple paintings and portraits hung on its walls. As I kept venturing in, something caught my eye. I glanced at it and my jaw dropped. 

There was a huge portrait of Coco Chanel hanging in a hallway leading towards the kitchen. I stared at her in shock, and she stared back. I could feel my stomach twist because of the excitement. 

The portrait had been painted so differently. The paint splashes on the painting made it unique. I spent several minutes just staring at it until I heard someone say, "Your favorite designer was Coco Chanel, right?" I saw Uncle Okan standing right behind me. He was wearing a tanned brown leather coat with black pants and shoes, matching his coat.

 I responded to him with exhilaration and said, "Yes! Is she your favorite designer as well? This is my favorite thing in this apartment."

I was about to rattle on for minutes when I realized that I had spoken too quickly, without a pause. On noticing it, I bit my lip and said, "I'm so sorry." Uncle Okan laughed and said, "Oh no! it's alright. The reason I have Coco Chanel hung on my wall is that I consequently bought this portrait while I was buying furniture for this apartment." He said after a pause, "Why do you like this portrait?" I stated humorously, "Well, probably because she is my favorite designer. Why wouldn't I like it? 

He said nodding, "I mean why do you like this potrait except for the fact that she is your favorite designer? Why do you like portrait?"

Why did I like the painting? I gave it a good look again and then said, "I like it because of the way that it's painted. This painting does not have outlines, yet it looks exquisite. This makes me wonder what the painter was thinking while painting this legend?" 

Okan said, "That's something you need to figure out. Just remember that things aren't what they seem." He said that and then left so he could meet the rest of the family. Once my tour of the apartment had ended. I went to the residing room where everyone was seated; conscious that I had to get scolded for roaming around in another person's residence without their permission. When I entered, my father said, 'Belle, where have you been? You were supposed to be with us."

 I did not know how to answer him. While I was planning the reply to the query in my head, Okan said, "Well she was examining the portrait of her favorite designer and I believe that she has a true ardour for art. Yeldiz, why don't you tell me about the business idea that you have for our company." My father said, "Oh yes! I was thinking of establishing a meeting room in our office." I saw a chance of no longer getting punished which was why I left until my father forgot of what had happened. I returned after a few minutes and found Uncle Okan talking to my father on some issues. I went and sat beside my father, quietly. I simply kept listening to everything they were talking about. However, Uncle Okan would look at my furry boots multiple times. (every time he would glance at me) I had become used to him staring at me and the uncomfortable feeling but I could not comprehend the reason for him staring at my shoes. 

We were all seated in the lounge when Uncle Okan"s servant approached him and said," Sir, your spouse has called, and told me to inform you that she knows about the whole lot that you are doing. She wants you to pick up her call and talk to her. Madam has ordered me to tell you whether you 'the' guests over or not." 

Okan had turned red. He said to the servant in a composed voice, "You may leave." 

He then got up and said," Give me a minute please." There was dead silence. We all sat quietly without knowing what to say. The only sound which could be heard was of Uncle Okan whispering on his phone in a room down the hall. He took ten minutes to return. He came back and said, "Let's have dinner. Yeldiz follow me towards the dining room."

Uncle Okan seemed alright and did not show any signs of grief at the moment. The food was fancy. There were small amounts served on our plates, yet it tasted delicious. After the main course, we were served with a chocolate pudding with caramel dripping from its sides and whipped cream with a few nuts in the corner. The dessert tasted better than the main course. There were so many different flavors bursting in my mouth. "Thats how rich people live, I love it." I said to myself.

Once we had eaten and chatted for a while; we were escorted out of the apartment. We reached our home exhausted and tired. That day might have been unpleasant, yet the feast was splendid. All I could think of when I returned, was of how depraved Uncle Okan's wife must be. 

He had succeeded in appealing and impressing a mediocre family, such as ourselves. He made his first move and stood victorious. His words echoed in my ears all night, "Things aren't what they seem."