A Charmed Reincarnation (Season 1)

Chapter 5: Size Matters

Disclaimer: I do not speak French at all. The only other language I would consider myself intermediate at is Spanish, and that's just interpreting, not speaking. I will try my best to make sure the translations are correct. If there's a mistake, don't be surprised. Okay. I hope you enjoy it!

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I slowly open my eyes to the sound of my alarm going off. I turn to shut it off and simply stare up at the ceiling, dreading what I have to do this morning.

Gabriel's voice plays in my head, taunting me as I struggle to gain the strength to move.

If you're late, you're fired.

I roll my eyes, "Such an asshole." I mumble to myself.

I get up from underneath the covers and glance at the clock. I have forty minutes to get ready and be out the door. I'm not even going to eat because I would have had to get up even earlier to cook breakfast, and I wanted to maximize my sleep time.

I hop in the shower and wash my body and hair while mentally timing myself. I get out in ten minutes and dry myself. I brush my teeth while using my other hand to brush my hair down. I leave the bathroom and grab the clothes I picked out the night before. We're meeting the client, so I wanted to dress up a bit more than I did for the meeting. I chose a burgundy turtle neck sweater, a black overcoat, and simple grey trousers. I'm putting on my shoes when I glance at the time. The clock stares back at me in bold red numbers.

4:30

Fuck, I got fifteen minutes!

I race out of my room and walk through the kitchen when I notice a cup, a plate, and a sticky note.

Have a good day! Don't let that asshole, sexy as he may be, make you doubt yourself. You've got this!

-Anthony

I smile at the note when I realize he must've gotten up earlier than me to have this ready because it's still pretty warm. I grab everything and head towards my car. I own a black Ford Sedan. Well, I guess Anthony and I do because we always share it between each other, but if we have a conflict in schedule, one of us will ride the bus. He does help me pay some of the insurance so that it's a bit fairer.

I get in and start the car. I immediately turn on the heat because it's still pretty chilly since it's November. I pull out of the apartment lot and start heading to the airport. The one good thing about being up this early is that there are few to zero cars on the road, which means I'll get there on time.

Oh, wait. Never mind. I'll be there early like I was told.

I mess with the radio station, trying to find some relaxing music to listen to on the way. Living in the 2000s meant that the songs I considered throwbacks in my time are considered the newest thing here. Missy Elliott's "Get Ur Freak On" starts to play, and I nod my head along while singing.

As I'm getting off the exit to the airport, I recite some basic French phrases out loud to get my mouth and brain tuned to the language.

"Bonjour." (Good morning, hello.)

"Ça va?" (How are you?)

"Je voudrais un café." (I would like a coffee.)

The airport is bustling with traffic as I try to find a place to park. I do find one, but it's a little further away from the entrance than I wanted. I sip the coffee Anthony made me, and I peek inside the plate to see he made me toast with eggs. I scoop a little of the eggs on the toast and take a bite. I don't have time to eat it all, but I'm not going into this hangry. I brush the crumbs off my sweater and get out of my car. I lock it and start heading inside the airport. The inside is even busier than the outside. People with their luggage and kids running around take up most of the space. I scan the arrival screen and see the flight the client should be getting off of and their baggage claim level. I begin heading in that direction, checking my watch occasionally to see I'm going to need to fast walk to make it by 5:50. I quickly move past those in front of me and dodge those coming in my direction before making it to baggage claim.