Manic [h.s]

02

mysterious men.

Skye
4 years later- February, 2021

The sun beams into my room and I can feel the warmth making my eyes peel open. Just when I think this morning will be calm, I can feel the mattress dip on the other side with someone else just behind me. I rub my eyes as I begin to sit up and take a look at who it was. As the sheets fold over, I notice I'm only in a bra and underwear.

Maybe I should stop taking men home from bars.

As quiet as possible, I lean over and check the time on my phone. 7:12 is plastered at the very top and suddenly, this morning got a whole lot worse.

I spring out of bed leaving the sprawled up sheets and nameless man. Quietly running into the bathroom and brushing my long dark hair as quickly as possible. I begin to brush my teeth and wash my face from the leftover makeup under my eyes. I use a claw clip to pin up my hair and pull out a few face framing pieces.

It's my first day at this publishing firm and I need it to go well. Good thing I was supposed to be there nearly 15 minutes ago.

I shuffle out of the bathroom and back to my room, picking out the one and only grey pantsuit from my wardrobe I only put on the shirt and pants, skipping on the blazer.

My mind is spiraling as I make my way through the apartment, grabbing my bag and other miscellaneous things to throw in it. I find a post it in a kitchen drawer and quickly write:
Had to get to work, we'll catch up sometime.
- Skye.

I drop the pen as quickly as possible and my legs are suddenly moving a mile a minute. I pick up my black heels that were drunkenly left by the door, I grab my keys on the side table and walk out, locking the door behind me.

I run down the stairs of my complex, nearly winding myself in the process. I open the lobby doors and step outside. I start to juggle putting my shoes on as I hobble my way down the street.

I look like an absolute idiot.

The Los Angeles sun is beating down, a force not to be reckoned with and this running is getting harder and harder but luckily the office is around the corner from my loft. I hastily make my way to the glass turning door and to the front concierge. My heels make a clicking sound on the clean white tiles beneath me that seemingly ring through the almost empty room, and I clutch onto my oversized tote bag.

"My name is Skylar St. James, I'm here for my first day?" I say out of breath. The woman behind the computer pokes her head out and looks at me.
"You're late, you know." She has this passive aggressive tone and I just look at her blankly.
"Un- unfortunately, yes, but it was completely my fault and-"
"Oh you dont have to worry about telling me all of this. I'll punch you in. You're at desk 12b, there's probably a piece of paper with the crap you have to do before you go home. Happy first day newbie." She gives a fake smile and nods me off. I walk up the familiar staircase from my interview to a bustling office of cubicles.

This is it. This is what I spent the past four years in college for, and this is my new start in my dream career.

I walk on the side of the cubicles and take note of how they're numbered. The left is a numbered with an A and the right with a B, I make my way over to the last one, 12b, and sit in my chair placing my bag down on the desk next to a clipboard with a yellow piece of loose leaf.

It's fine you're late, just meet me in my office for a chat. Book deal meeting you maybe interested in.
-Cecilia Baker, COO

I look at at the time on my phone. 7:30. My stomach is at ease knowing I made it by the skin of my teeth and I take minute to look around at my small little space. Except for a seemingly new desktop computer, and a black plastic paper rack the desk was clear. I walk over to the door with black lettering on it reading "Cecilia Baker" and lead with a knock.