Convergent

An Ordinary Day in Hell

  ~Tris~

    "Alright, so this baby goes 0 to 60 in 3.5 seconds. Where's the address again?" Dusty bragged/asked. I rolled my eyes and closed the door to the black seat. Dusty had just bought a brand new car. A 2232 Jaguar XJ, to be exact. It was as grey as a misty fog and as polished as the moon. But, honestly, I didn't care right now. If he didn't shut his mouth and start driving, I'd be late to work again! Last time, Mrs. Figueroa gave me an earful in front of the whole floor. Among those words were the 14 words everyone wants to hear. "Show up again late and you're suspended without pay for a month, young lady!!!" I could not lose my job. I gave Dusty the address. "Step on it!" I shouted.

      My job was to be Mrs. Figueroa's personal assistant. Mrs. Figueroa was the CEO of Fadiso, a fashion company she started on her own. After the war with the outsiders, or the people outside of Chicago, she pursued her passion. A thirty - one - year - old Candor woman with long hazel - brownish hair, mahogany brown eyes, a long nose, and a sixth sense for fashion with nothing but a few coins in her pocket and a dream created one of the most famous international fashion companies! Most people who are in love with, or their job was, fashion would consider working for her a dream come true. Ha! Her employees and I know that's not the case. She's a bossy, doesn't care about anyone but her or her husband, short - tempered, rude, overly - honest, cruel, vain woman. But, then again, she does have some likable qualities about her. She's intelligent, generous, confident, calculated, funny, dependable, extravagant, doesn't care what anyone thinks of her, and mentally strong. Unfortunately, I was on her bad side. And that is something you do NOT want to be on.

      So now, it was 5:20 AM and I had to wake up my best friend Dusty to drive me to work because my stupid car chose today of all days to stop working. I woke up at 4 to freshen up, you know, like brush your teeth and hair, wash your face, apply makeup. That's 30 minutes. Choose my clothes. 20 minutes, and that includes the time I take to put them on. I was wearing a comfortable yet stylish red dress that reached a few inches above my knees. I won't be too specific. Honestly, I don't really care about fashion. I only took the job because it was offered and I'm good at doing things for people, apparently. My friends, Dusty and Kianna, say she overworks me. That may be true, but the paycheck is too good to refuse. Anyways, then I had to make breakfast for me and Dusty. He doesn't cook. Well, he does, but the only people who like that are the type of people who enjoy eating sweaty socks/mucus and raisins. Kianna always just goes to Jack in the Box for breakfast or somewhere like that. She just really hates cooking. So, we decided that I'd do the cooking. Especially 'cause I'm so good at it. That's 24 minutes. Then I woke him up and got in his car which he is now driving. 6 minutes. And now, it's a 30 minute drive. When I get there at 6, I have to set up my desk, which is 10 minutes due to my mess from yesterday. Then, I grab a bagel and orange juice, 3 minutes, start up my computer and brush my hair one last time simultaneously. 7 minutes. Then, the day starts. I work for 13 hours and get home 7:30. I've been doing this almost every day for 2 and a half years!

      "So, what's Miranda Priestly having you do today, Amber?" Dusty asks. I rolled my eyes. Kianna and Dusty always called her that, when she isn't around, that is. They think my story is similar to Andrea's from "The Devil Wears Prada", without the good benefits at the end, though. "I have to schedule some meetings and look through some marketing sales and get her lunch, the usual. Oh," I added as I checked a text I just received from her. "I also have to edit the website. There's some things she wants removed, added, and changed. She said she's emailed me them." "Great! Now you have only 1 million things to do, and not 999,999," he remarked. I chuckled and turned my head towards the window. It was a gloomy day. The dark clouds pushed the sun behind them as they forced themselves upon the earth, stealing the sun's thunder, . . . which looked like the forecast for today.