Today was going to be a bad day.
You had woken up with an awful headache, accompanied by an overall feeling that today was going to be shit.
You were on your period, you hadn't slept much last night. You felt sick constantly, work was stressful. Ross was in the studio today too, he was gone when you had woken up. Lucky for him, he's a deep sleeper and doesn't stir at all in the night, compared to you especially.
You lug yourself out of bed and take a quick glance at yourself. You can't help but laugh at what stands in front of you, you look like a corpse.
Getting ready for work was painful, having to come to terms with the fact that you had to work a ten hour shift and wouldn't be home til late.
You liked your job, however, which helped the long days. You worked at a photography studio, often shooting for magazines and well-established brands. You were a known name in the area and each day was different, but being popular came with long hours, constantly.
You get to work, smiling at your co workers and setting down your coffee before opening up your laptop, beginning your morning with some editing before heading out for a shoot.
On your way to the location you realise the boys' studio is en route, so you grab their coffee order and head towards their building. You let yourself in with the pin on the door and knock gently.
They're mid song, a song you don't recognise. Matty catches your eye and smiles before nodding at Ross, who turns around quickly.
His face lights up when he sees you stood there but you shake your head at him to tell him to finish the song, you could tell it was being recorded.
There had been a few occasions where the boys had recorded a song almost perfectly but Ross often got distracted with your presence that he jumbled up the notes. Probably why you didn't go to the studio often.
You set down the coffees and blow Ross a kiss before heading out the door, not wanting to be late for the shoot.
You arrive promptly and begin to set up your equipment alongside your laptop before the model arrives. She's wearing very minimal clothing and has a face like a slapped arse as soon as she enters the room.
You smile at her before being blatantly ignored. Fab.
She's bossy. She's rude. She's patronising and ensures to keep reminding you how successful she was, and how this photoshoot was the smallest she'd ever attended. You take each remark with a pinch of salt and allow her to complain, knowing it would get you out of there sooner.
You finally finish up after around an hour and exit as soon as possible, wanting to forget what felt like the last ten years and head back to the studio to edit.
You arrive back and instantly felt the desire to get editing. You plug in the memory card and are met with a bright yellow warning sign in response.
For fuck sake.
The card has crashed. You have no evidence of your work despite having to experience the most painful photoshoot you could possibly imagine. This day could not get worse.
Having no pictures means having to continue editing previous ones, meaning today was going to be a boring one as you had no new exciting projects to work on. This project, additionally, was a long one, and now you had nothing else to work on, this was your only option in order to actually earn some money for today.
*
It was late. You were only supposed to work until six, but the clock had just passed ten. Your phone had died a while ago and there was nothing around for you to charge it. You had searched far and wide for a charger in a photography studio, but to no avail. Ross had the one you usually brought with you, you didn't suspect you'd need it for a six o'clock finish. How ironic.
Finally finishing up, you pack up your things and arrange for an Uber home on your laptop. You lived in a safe area but it was late and therefore dark, you also couldn't be bothered to walk twenty minutes home.
The uber drops you off outside your apartment and you slowly progress up the stairs. Finally reaching your apartment you open the door and throw the keys down alongside your equipment and other bits you had brought to work previously.
'Y/N! Where the hell have you been?'. You're met with a stressing Ross as soon as you enter the door.
'Calm down. I've been at work. Long day, my phone died and I couldn't leave. Sorry.' You reply.
'You're sorry? I thought you were in danger. You could've at least called. I made dinner.' He replies.
'You know what, Ross. I would've if it was possible. I've had a long day, nothing has gone my way. My uterus is hating me, I have a massive headache and have dealt with the most irritating people in the world today. I took some amazing shots which corrupted before I got back to the editing studio, I had to work on something boring. I apologise for not being able to call you but I had to prioritise other things, and don't need you yelling at me right now. I was excited to get home to see you but now I'd rather be anywhere else.' You ramble as you throw down your rucksack, knocking over a glass as it smashes on the floor.
As it hits the floor and shatters you feel yourself begin to cry, you can't help it. Tears fall quick and heavy, caused by the stress of a bad day and something else not going your way.
You fall to the floor, attempting to pick up the pieces of broken glass, cutting your fingers as you do so.
'Hey hey hey. Don't do that.' Ross says calmly before reaching down to your hands and lifting your crumpled body off of the floor.
He sits you down on the sofa and checks you over for broken glass, picking out little pieces of your stained hands whilst you wince.
'All done.' He smiles.
He disappears to the back of the apartment and you hear the bath start to run. He comes back with a blanket in his hand and lies down next to you, pulling your body into his grasp as he puts the blanket over you, smoothing down your hair and wrapping his long arms around your back.
You feel instantly comforted as he presses his lips against your forehead, softly speaking, apologising for snapping and reminding you how much he loves you.
His hand reaches over for the remote as he puts Friends on the TV, holding you whilst your bath is running.
You feel his warm breath against your face as you allow yourself to be held.
Not the worst end to a bad day after all.
