The morning in the city tasted like burnt coffee. Cynthia Brooks clutched her paper bag as if the bag itself owns her
. Her heels clicked against the cracked sidewalk as she is weaving overzeolous joggers and all. She was late, and by the looks of it, it seems she is going to finally get a sack later
"Third warning," she muttered under her breath. "Third warning. Great. I'll probably get a plaque for consistent tardiness."
Finally, she reached the towering glass building of VOS Art & Media. Its reflective surface gleamed in the morning sun, Cynthia swung open the revolving doors and immediately regretted not taking a moment to straighten her hairor, at the least catch her breath.
. Cynthia walked arrogantly inside as if she did absolutely nothing until she sees some heavy eyes on her ,from her boss Alexander, of course. His gaze was steady, piercing.
Cynthia froze. "Ohh don't start this morning",she said inside her . "Uh⦠morning, Mr. Voss" she managed, hoping she sounded more professional than she felt.
He didn't reply, only raised an eyebrow, and Cynthia under the lookb, She hurried past him
Her desk was a mess,filled with scattered papers and document , pens that didn't work, and a small photo of her childhood dog, She collapsed into her chair, letting out a dramatic sigh and then Her phone buzzed. indicating a text from her best friend, Julianne
Julianne:π’ππ πππ πππππ ππππ ππ.ππππ ππππ πππππ ππππππ ππ π’πππππππ ππππ ππππ.ππππ ,πππ‘πππππ πππ ππππ πππππππ ππ π’ππ π ππππ πππππ.ππ πππππππ
Cynthia groaned. "Weird how? Creepy weird? Handsome-but-intimidating weird? Or just 'you're late-again' weird?" She typed a frantic reply but deleted it twice before finally sending
Cynthia: Don't worry. I'm a professional. Kind of.