fem!oc x whiskey
- ❝But why on earth would Iris want to kill me, Mr. Blanc? Tell me that.❞
- ❝Simple: Jealousy. Anyone with eyes can see how Miss Allen looks at Miss Whiskey, Mr. Bron.❞
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CHAPTER ONE Manhattan, New York — 17:56 p.m.
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—— IRIS ALLEN WAS SWAMPED. Her eyes had been boring into the same blank page on her desktop for the last seven hours, each pixel going blurry and then clear over and over again. She wondered at which time she had started to get hungry, her stomach had been cramping for the last hour, but she was sure it had been happening long before that, she just hadn’t noticed. Her hands had been hovering over her keyboard for longer than she expected, the feeling coming back when she leaned back to stretch out her back, a groan of frustration escaping her lips.
For the couple of months she had been stuck in quarantine alone, all sense of posture and hygiene out the window, especially since there had been no one there to observe her behavior. And with Miles pushing her to announce the new book release, she was now stressing herself out to get on with the deadlines. She had been told by her publisher, Janae, to get the first few pages out for the 5th. It was now the 21st. To say she was a bit overdue, would be an understatement, and she was reminded of her failure daily. Constant phone calls from Janae were about the only form of socializing she did nowadays — that was ignoring her daily facetimes from Whiskey.
Iris sighed heavily as she looked away from her computer, the rest of her penthouse coming into sight, the mess abundant. Mountains of dirty clothes were building up in each corner, pots and pans were stacked up in the sink, multiple vodka bottles had been nestled into the sides of the couch even though they had been empty for longer than two weeks now. Pretty much her life was falling apart, but Iris was wading her way through the debris.
