𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ✓

FIVE

-

About a week after the voting problem, my article has been published, only receiving positive feedback, as always. Proud, I scroll over the comments the readers can leave behind on our website while Kelly opens the door without knocking, seemingly hasty. I close the browser and lock my phone, looking at her in confusion.

"You look... worried," I guess, and Kelly points to the clock that hangs above my bed. I follow her finger to see that I totally forgot the time.

"In thirty minutes," I breathe, "Shit, shit, shit."

"Good that I didn't even have to say anything," my roommate acknowledges with a faint giggle, watching me jump out of my seat and run around the room restlessly, gathering clothes from my closet and the armchair by the window.

"What does one even wear for Dark Dining? They can't see me anyways," I ask genuinely and look in my roomie's direction. She just shrugs and plops down on the foot of my bed. Chester seems to have noticed that everyone is in my room now, and he meows as he walks through the door, eventually sitting down on the carpet, looking at us as if he was offended.

"Why do you even care? It's just work," Kelly counters, and I scoff.

"I have a reputation to preserve," I answer, "They can't know I walk around in sweats and shirts with Hello Kitty on it when I'm alone."

"You hate pink," Kelly replies, and though her comment is true, I groan in response, clearly hectic.

"Just wear what you'd wear to work," she then suggests, and I pause for a moment. Today has been my free day of the week, and I spent it in said sweaters and a Hello Kitty shirt. However, in thirty, no twenty-six minutes, I have to look classy and presentable.

"That's an idea," I mumble, "Why didn't I think of that before?"

"Because you're just running around the room mindlessly?"

"Shut it, Kel," I snap absently, my thoughts trying to put together an outfit. In the end, I hold up a short-sleeved blouse, sage green, and dark brown dress pants, the ones with the elastic waistband.

"Looks like something an autumn fairy would wear to attend a wedding," Kelly comments, and I look at the two pieces of clothing in my hands.

"Seriously?"

"Try the red blouse," she suggests instead of answering in question, and I gaze over to the red blouse that hangs on its hanger like it always does. I barely wear it, but for a good reason.

"This thing is see-through," I retort.

"No one will see you for most of the time, anyway," Kelly reminds me, patting on her lap to make Chester come to her, which he hesitantly does, apparently needing some cuddles. I tilt my head and eye the blouse critically. I got it from my father's new wife for my birthday last year. I hate this woman.

"Try it on," my roommate demands, and regarding the lack of time I have to get ready, I surrender, pulling my Hello Kitty shirt over my head, which leaves me in my black lace bra.

"Should I put something under it?" I hesitantly ask as I take the shirt off the hanger, feeling the admittedly smooth and soft fabric underneath my fingertips. "Like a top or something. I don't want to look like a prostitute."

"Would be a very classy prostitute," Kelly responds with a laugh, and I roll my eyes, not able to suppress my own grin.

"Okay, top it is," I sigh, getting out a nude one with the thinnest straps I've ever seen on a piece of clothing before, and slide it over my head.

"Looks great with the pants," Kelly giggles, stroking Chester's fur absently. For once in his life, the cat is quiet, enjoying the pets. I glare over in the mirror while I button up the blouse. The crimson red really looks so dirty next to the weird olive green color of my sweatpants, the ones with the hair dye stains on them. I've had them for so long that I don't even remember how hair dye got onto them, considering the fact that I never dyed or bleached my hair in my life.

"Wait," I sigh, pulling down the nasty sweats, and eventually replace them with the dark brown dress pants. I button them and turn to Kelly, posing weirdly, with a questioning look on my face.

"Nah," Kelly says, "Too much... Christmas. Try the black pants."

I groan but take the brown ones off to replace them with the black ones. The new pants have the same straight leg that ends right by my ankle.

"I can already feel how warm it's going to be," I sigh, and Kelly adjusts her position so she can see me better, thus making Chester complain with loud meows.

"Skirt?" she then suggests, and I tilt my head to the side, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

"Okay, skirt," I decide, peel myself out of the pants, and replace them with the same black pencil skirt I always wear. I love them so much I have three of them laying in my closet.

"Yes, great, amazing," Kelly approves, and I nod at myself in the mirror, content about the outfit. Even though it's not much different from what I usually wear. Reputation.

"White sneakers, boom, done," I say while putting on the shoes, and Kelly just hums in an agreeing tone, now focused on the fluffy cat on her lap.

"Hair, make-up, out the door," she mumbles, attempting to scamper me, and I look at the clock. Seventeen minutes.

-

"You're late," Sebastian states. He is the only one standing where we are supposed to meet as a team. I glare at my phone. I'm eight minutes late.

"Sorry," I mumble, and I feel his gaze drifting up and down my body. He licks his lips when his eyes eventually find mine for a brief moment, and I press my lips together, gulping. Those ocean eyes of his seem to pierce through me, maybe he can even stare into my soul. I don't hope so, otherwise, he would know how attractive I find this.

"The others are inside already," he informs me, clearly annoyed. "Let's go."

He motions toward the door, and I push it open to reveal a gloomy room that is apparently the entrance area. It's so much darker in here than outside, where the sun is still frying New Yorkers on the streets, despite it being after six already. Sebastian follows me, the man at what seems to be the reception desk nods to him and taps his hat, and motions to another door with glass tinted dark like a pair of sunglasses.

"Go," Sebastian impatiently gushes, and I push the door open to meet a waitress, a lot shorter than me, holding a yellow shining flashlight that barely provides any sight in this complete darkness.

"Follow me," she says, and I do as told, walking behind her, careful not to bump into anything - or anyone. I hear silent chatting, laughing, the clinking of cutleries. I feel Sebastian walking right behind me, so close that I'm almost afraid he would step on my heels.

"Here you are," the waitress says, and I stop, making Sebastian bump into me inevitably, his chest hitting my back. I feel his body heat radiating against mine, and how buff he must be under that black dress shirt he's wearing today. I never noticed.

"Finally," I hear my boss say, "Emmons, nice of you to join us."

"I had an issue with my-"

"Let's eat, shall we?" my boss interrupts my attempt to make an excuse that doesn't include indecisive outfit changes. I sit down, touching everything with my hand to make sure I'm sitting correctly and not fall onto the ground. Beside me, Golden Boy takes a seat, and the waitress takes our drink orders before the last bit of light in the room vanishes with her, and leaves my colleagues and me in utter darkness.

The only thing I feel in this cramped seating arrangement is Sebastian's thigh pressing against mine.