Grey

One

[RORY]

"I'm sure daddy had nothing to do with that."

Her tone was dripping with judgment as I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me, walking out of the meeting room alongside a handful of others. I bit my tongue - literally and figuratively - restraining the impulsive response. Frankly, I wasn't even sure I had one. 

I desperately just wanted to cling to the satisfaction I felt 10 minutes prior when Marisol was praising my review. I'd been at SoundSystem for six months and had spent countless hours doing everything I possibly could to prove myself to her, to them.

"Don't be bitter because it's better than the shit you turn in," Jamie's familiar voice interjected out of nowhere.

I rolled my eyes, walking towards my desk with the bane of my existence hot on my trail. In the brief amount of time I knew him, I had learned that Jamie was like a dog - he did something good, he wanted a treat. Crowning me a damsel in distress had only fueled my annoyance.

"That wasn't necessary," I muttered, sitting down and spinning my chair towards my laptop so my back was to him. I busied myself, checking my calendar in hopes he'd take the hint and leave me be. "I don't need to be rescued, she can think what she wants."

"You're very welcome," he ignored my distaste, the smug smile apparent in his voice. "You're a good writer, she's just pissed because you're a newbie and she's been here for five years."

I didn't respond, grabbing a pen to write myself reminders on a post-it note. I felt him step closer, glancing over my shoulder.

"You're going to the Glass Animals show tonight?"

"Dude, spacial boundaries," I snapped, spinning my chair around so he had no choice but to back up. He leaned onto his side slightly against the cubicle wall, crossing his arms with a stupid smirk. "Just because I'm not telling you to fuck off, doesn't mean it's an open invitation to come hang out."

He licked his bottom lip before talking, clearly trying not to smile. "That's my story. Why are you going? Eight hours isn't enough time with me?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I still don't understand why you kill yourself and go to extra shows to write reviews that go nowhere."

I didn't bother responding, turning my chair back around. I knew he had a point - I spent night after night driving across the city, going to concerts I didn't want to be at, to see bands I didn't want to see, to write reviews that weren't asked of me. I'd email them to Marisol, hoping that my devotion to the craft would do the work for me and start landing me bigger stories. All I'd received so far was radio silence.

"You're welcome to join me, though. I can pick you up."

"I don't want to go, I've had a change of heart," I gave him a fake smile over my shoulder, earning a chuckle in response. "Have fun."

"Oh come on. We can grab a beer before, you look like a beer girl."

"Your persistence is insane."

"I'm not persistent, I'm just a man who knows what he wants and will do everything he can to get it."

"Congratulations, you defined persistent," I sighed, the conversation going on far too long for my liking. As much as I despised him as a person, Jamie was a good writer. I envied him because Marisol had enough respect to trust him with all of the stories I so desperately wanted. "I'm heading home, I have plans. Have fun at the show."

I started tossing stuff into my tote bag, knowing he wasn't going anywhere until I was physically out of the office.

"What about tomorrow night? You free?"