It's Time |A.I|

08

Chapter Eight

Flashback

The loud sound of my iPhones marimba played out annoyingly on the small desk beside my bed. I really need to change that.

Groaning, I slowly maneuverer my fingers along the desk's surface, trying to find Satan's spawn. I finally came into contact with the small device and hit the snooze button to make the horrible sound stop. The brightness was harsh against my eyes. I squinted to unlock it, clicking the slider button to off. Having to get up early every morning makes you really realise how much you actually hated work, or just about anything that makes you get up earlier than noon.

The wood that my small carpet didn't cover was cold against the bare pads of my feet; it made me shiver. We should really have the heat on in this part of the house, it's always freezing.

I made my way to my closet. Yet another day of choosing something to wear. I still didn't know what was good, or what was bad for this job. Subconsciously, I ran my fingers through my hair, them getting stuck halfway down. I groaned, I really hate mornings. Why did God make such an awful thing.

For the third time, I scanned over the items on the multiple hangers. Nothing my eyes came into contact with was worthy enough to be seen in.

Fuck it, I'll just wing this shit. I grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans I bought from Hot Topic, and a silky, white shirt that contained ruffles in the front.

Deciding to skip a shower, because why not, I quickly threw on the clothes. The outfit wasn't great, but it wasn't bad either.

My blond hair was in several directions as I stared at myself in my vanity mirror. Okay, maybe I should have taken a shower. No brush could ever get through this disaster. It's like a rat had literally slept in there and if I were to touch it, it would come out hissing. I winced as I tried dragging the brush through the tangled mess. This is hell.

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"Are you ready to go?" My father asked, sitting in one of our kitchen barstool chairs. A cup of coffee was placed next to him, the newspaper in his hands.

I grumbled a simple yes and he folded his paper, taking off his glasses he needed to read. "Something wrong?"

"No. I'm just not a morning person." My father chuckled and proceeded to get up and make his way into the hallway where our coats were stored.

All too soon, we made our way outside to our Mercedes Benz. The spring air was chilly, it still hasn't warmed up from winter. The heat was on full blast. My father and I were silent the whole care ride. Thank God for that, I hate talking in the morning. When we got there Dad parked the car right next to Harry's.

As we made our way inside we split ways. I went right when my Dad went straight. We had two different work areas, his was downstairs as mine was upstairs. My black heels clicked against the tiled floor. The sound was somewhat soothing, it's my new aesthetic.

Ashton was standing in front of the elevator doors. Okay Adelaide, you can do this. I gulped in a thing of air and made my way to his side. "Fancy meeting you here," I joked.

He jumped, not prepared to see me. "Jesus, Adelaide. You can't do that to people!"

I giggled, "oops?" Ashton rolled his eyes as the doors opened and we made our way inside the small contraption. "Where are we going today?" I asked, curious as to what we might do.