Beautiful Things | Wolfstar

One

Windshield wipers flip back and forth at an inhumane pace, only seeming to blur Remus' view rather than clear it. Heavy gusts of wind carry with them buckets of water that spray through the holes on the roof of his beater car. The wheels travel down the pothole filled road, each bump emitting another odd screech from the engine. Remus pushes his foot down on the gas, but instead he slows to a stop.

"No, no no!" he groans, slamming his fist down onto steering wheel. "Come on you piece of trash!" His eyes shift into the rearview mirror, thankful that nobody was behind him. He takes the key out of ignition, jamming it in again in an attempt to restart the car. But to no avail. "Motherfucker." He slams his head against the back of the seat, slumping down despairingly. The morning had started off so chipper with blue skies and sunshine guaranteed on the forecast.

6:52 AM

Remus swallows the last of his coffee while sitting in the parking lot of the Harper Post. For once he is actually early for work. His coworkers pass by in their casual attire and messenger bags, chatting away animatedly. Remus licks his lips, reaching over for his own backpack. The door of his car sticks a little when he attempts to push it, but with a little force it pops open. He steps out of his car and smoothens out his frumpy shirt.

When he steps inside, everyone has already gone to their desks. His desk is in the far left corner decorated with only a few pictures and one sad cactus. He walks swiftly down the aisle, offering a friendly smile to those he made eye contact with. He sets his backpack down, taking out its contents one by one: laptop, charger, binder, journal, pen, and a book.

People travel desk to desk discussing the latests articles written and the newest ones to be assigned. Remus sits behind his computer screen staring at the clock. 6:59. Just as the numbers change, the door opens, silencing the room. In strides a woman with silky dark skin and the curliest afro that frames her face just right. Shana Lucy, Editor-In-Chief. Her heels click against the wood floors tauntingly. In her hands is a black folder, captivating everybody's eye.

Remus stares intensely at his computer when a shadow hovers over him. He meekly lowers the screen, staring up at her with his iridescent amber eyes.

"Lupin, my office," she demands. He stands, only a few inches taller than her, trailing slowly behind her. His eyes scan over the room at his coworkers who are all staring back. Shana stops mid step, turning around abruptly while everybody scrambles back to what they were doing. "Everyone I want your assignments in the black folder by the time I step out of this office."

"Yes, Shana," the chorus replies.

Shana steps into her office, holding the door open for Remus to enter. "Take a seat, Remus," she instructs, closing the door with a click.

Apprehensively, Remus lowers himself into the plum colored chair. His foot taps to an unknown rhythm as Shana walks around him. "Am I in trouble?" he jokes, nervously chuckling in hopes that wasn't the case.

"No, you're not in trouble. I actually wanted to talk to you about the last article you wrote for me."

Remus visibly relaxes, biting his bottom lip. "The one about the string of money scandals in the businesses?"

"Yes. I think it could be the front page." She takes a seat in the chair adjacent, crossing her thin legs over one another casually.

Remus straightens up excitedly, his hands clinging to the arms of the chair. "Really?" he stammers.

"With a little more work." Her hand falls on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Uh..." His eyes watch as her hand slowly starts to trail upwards. "T-that would be great." He presses his back to the chair, shifting his body away slightly. He doesn't feel any attraction for from action, but it was clear what her intentions were becoming.

"How about you and I work on the expose together?"

"I-" Remus jumps to his feet, taking a step back. "Look Shana, I really appreciate the offer but I don't think it's appropriate for this."

Shana gets to her feet, striding up to Remus until he was pressed against the wall. His chest rises and falls rapidly when her lips graze against his ear. "I thought you would do anything to get on the front page."

Remus clears his throat at a loss for words. "Shana I said no."

Shana scowls, staring venomously at him. "You're fired."

The words hit Remus like a ton of bricks. "I'm fired? Because I don't want to have sex with you? Shana I'm your best writer!"

She scoffs, digging her heels into the carpet. "That's funny Lupin. I went out on a limb to hire you and offer a chance to be on the front page! You will never make it anywhere in life so long as I have a say." She swings open the door aggressively. "Now get the hell out of my building!"

Remus hangs his head to avoid eye contact, rushing back to his desk. He stumbles over his feet a few times in the hurry, packing things haphazardly into his backpack. Shana's door slams with a defiant thud, causing a wildfire of whispers to spread. A heavy roll of thunder rumbles outside, rattling the building. Remus throws his backpack over his shoulder, leaving nothing on his desk. He doesn't bother saying goodbye to the others; they were probably going to throw a party now that he wasn't competition for a spot in the paper.

Present

Remus grabs his backpack, holding it over his head as he exits the car. Cold water splatters against his face, sliding down his shirt completely soaking him. He treks up the hill back to his communal apartment, which was the last place he wanted to go back to. His seven other roommates were all probably still sleeping in the pigsty they called their bedroom.

Remus stops at the nearest phone booth, slipping inside to recoup. He puts his backpack on, digging through his pockets in hopes for some cash. The Harper Post was a great job, but it paid little to nothing. The little he has saved could maybe afford him a month of proper living before he was broke. A flimsy piece of paper slips from his pockets, landing on the ground completely soaked. Remus reaches down, examining it. A train ticket Shana bought him to London for the expose which boards tomorrow at noon. He holds it carefully in his hand to ensure that it won't wilt away in his pocket, hurrying out of the phone booth.

By the time Remus reaches his apartment, the rainstorm has lightened up. Now it was more of a gentle mist spraying down. He shuffles into the apartment, water squishing out of his shoes with every step. Kicking them off, he places them over the vent to dry and wanders into his room. As predicted, two of his roommates are sound asleep on their beds. He peels off his shirt, throwing it into his hamper, before falling back onto his own bed. The squeak causes the other two the shift in their sleep, but neither wake up. Remus stares up at the cracked ceiling in a daze.

The only job he ever wanted was now gone.

He holds out the ticket in front of his face, staring at the date. One trip to London cost four pounds. Sure it was expensive to live there, but it would be much better than his current situation. "I can't," Remus whispers to himself. He sets the ticket onto his nightstand, rolling over. Even without seeing the ticket, it still taunts him. He was already at rock bottom. Well, he was more thrown off a cliff and stepped on by Shana's black heel, but nothing could get worse than it already is for him.

It was settled. Noon tomorrow, he is moving to London.