Glass Walls - Larry Stylinson

One

Louis walked into the lobby of the Styles building in downtown Manhattan. It was a Saturday morning like any other, it was quiet on the street but the minute you pushed passed the glass doors of the Styles building you were in the middle of a chaotic whirlwind of chatter and commotion. Louis headed towards the elevator and pressed the button pointed up.

"Hello, Louis."

Louis looked at the young women next to him, she wore her hair pinned up tightly with a black bodycon dress and black tights on. Her face was tight with worry as she typed on her phone her red nails tapping hard against the glass screen.

"Hello, Claire."

The elevator opened and they both entered she pressed the button for floor three and Louis gave her a questioning look.

"Is there a reason you're traveling into the BoHo realm today?"

Claire laughed pulling her bag in front of herself to make room for the person entering with them, a face neither of them knew very well.

"Paisley texted me that she forgot her as she calls it, 'healing juice' on her desk."

Louis smiled smugly at the thought of Claire picking up whatever healing juice was and carrying it around like a corpse.

He scanned his key and pressed the button for floor seven. It was the special floor only six people occupied it. Two of them being Claire and himself.

"I guess I'll see you up there?"

She got off of the elevator turning towards Louis once again as the man in BoHo attire slid past her and scurried into his cubicle. She held the elevator door open, her red fingernails wrapping around the metal.

"Paisley also informed me that Mr. Styles is not in a good mood today. Something about a model dropping out of his fashion show next weekend."

She let go and the door started closing and as it did he could hear her laughing and watched as she scurried away yelling at him to enjoy the seventh circle of hell.

He hated referring to his boss as Mr. Styles it felt incredibly weird to do so considering he was the older of the two. He had never worked for someone younger than him before. He turned his attention to the buttons and watched as the numbers would light up and fade away just as quickly.

The Styles building consisted of seven floors. Many people referred to them as the seven circles of hell because of how torturous their jobs were.

Floor one is the lobby consisting of the elevators and many conference rooms Mr. Styles rented out for use from time to time. Floor two was Louis' as he called it brand. It was called streetwear. Everything and anything related to streetwear happened on that floor and only that floor and was marked by blue and white furniture. Every floor has a head sales person and that was him.

Floor three is BoHo, run by Paisley De, a lovely wild ginger with the fashion style of a forest witch. Their section contained yellow and white furniture. Floor four was rocker wear, run by Lilly Jagger, no affiliation to Mic. They stayed true to black and white furniture with pops of red accents.

Floor five is vintage wear, run by the youngest member of staff. An African designer who goes by the name of Emily Bello. No one knows her real name but she chose her name to sell her fashion faster and it worked. She chose green and white furniture styling. Floor six was Claire Perlo and that was high fashion. Everything in there was white and marble with accents of gold.

Finally, the seventh floor was the scariest of all. The creator of the entire company sat in his crystal ball of an office made entirely of glass windows; he had a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city around him and he had his top five salespeople sitting outside of his office around a circular stage waiting for him to burst out with a new idea.