Oh the Places You'll Go!!!!

Fey Mandrake didn't live on the 5th floor. As she the elevator doors of the 5th floor slid shut, Fey looked at the buttons of the elevator, each one leading the small metal box that smelled mildly of alcohol to a new floor. It was then she became aware that some one was talking to her.
"Are you going up?" The man who'd asked her was tall, taller then her at any rate. She noted he'd pressed the button for the 8th floor.
"Oh, yes! The 10th floor please, thank you." Fey flashed him her quick little smile she'd mastered through years of practice, then went back to looking ahead of her in silence. The elevator reached the 8th floor, the doors opened, and the man stepped out. The doors shut, went up two more floors, stopped again, the doors opened, but Fey didn't move. The doors shut again. Fey reached forward and pressed a button. She had lied. She didn't live on the 10th floor, she lived on the first, apartment number 81, her favourite number. a square of the square of 3, a sacred number and oh so perfect number. However, when not at her apartment or shop, the elevator was one of Fey's favourite places to be. Not because she liked enclosed spaces, she didn't. No, it was because every time the elevator doors opened she was in a different and (relatively) new place. Also, with the building being so big and many residence, with every ride Fey was likely to see someone new, she never met anyone she saw, but she saw them and that was enough. Fey liked people, that's why she owned and ran a shop next door to the diner and, although the shop was two stories, chose to live in Washington Heights. While it was more of a financial stretch for her, the day she had looked into living in the apartments the first one shown to her was 81. Fey knew it was a sign. She had to live in that apartment. She just knew that by living in apartment #81 she would one day meet someone important, it was fate, why else would apartment 81 be open in the building next door to her shop?
Fey approached the door, her patchwork dress just barely touching the floor. She should hem it. She wasn't very tall, but she wasn't short either. She had long wavy hair that formed natural loose rings towards the bottom. Both her hair and eyes were brown. While she had a shapely figure, she spent most of her time wearing jackets or sweaters to cover most of her figure up. She looked down both sides of the hall before she opened her door. Not due to the crime rate, more to see if anyone was in the hall. She ducked inside, no one to see today, oh well. Fey was sure she'd meet whoever it was outside her door, although, being very shy, she wasn't sure how she'd do so. She barely managed to talk to people long enough to sell things in her shop.
Her apartment was small, but livable. There was a bathroom, a kitchenette that was connected to a living room type space, one closet, and a very small bedroom. The only door in the whole apartment was the front door. The other doorways had hanging beads in them, except that to the bathroom. That doorway was covered by two pieces of fabric. She made her way to the bedroom, which consisted of a mattress, a light, and Finicky. Finicky was one of life's good parts that Karma had been kind enough to make pass Fey's path. She had found Finicky one day while looking around the graveyard. The poor dog was half starved, probably a family pet that had gotten lost and never looked for. She called him Finicky because when he'd first come to live with Fey, that's exactly what he was. He was the only man in her life, and they were happy. Every morning they went to The Wrath and opened it. They stayed there most the day, and around 6:30 closed and returned home. Fey wasn't sure what type of dog Finicky was, but that didn't matter, he was a good dog, and cared for her as much as she cared for him.
"No new exciting people today Finiy. C'est la vie. Come on boy, lets have some dinner."
"Arf!arf!" With a couple of barks of agreement from Finicky, they made their way into the kitchenette to eat.