A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to the first chapter of 'When Life Gives You Lemons'! I wasn't sure what to call this, but this is what I settled on for now - it may is my new fanfic that I've been working on for a looooong time. I've already written like the first 15 chapters and I've been playing with the idea of posting it for a while. I've been away from posting my works for a lot of years, so I hope that the changes to my writing style are well received. I hope the hear from you all :)
Well, this was just great. The man had read so many different papers in the last couple of hours that it was starting to look like another language. He ran his hand through his cerulean hair for the hundredth time, pulling out the strands he had worked loose. It was times like this that he really hated his job. He glanced up at the clock and sighed. It was four in the afternoon and he had a meeting with the head of the company in half an hour that he really wasn't looking forward to, because he had absolutely no idea what it was about. To top it all off, he'd barely eaten at lunch because he knew he had to get on with the papers that had been riding his ass all afternoon. He stared at the sheet for few more minutes, until he realised he'd been trying to make sense of the same sentence for so long that it wasn't even funny. The letters were becoming blurry through his tired eyes. He looked at the dog-eared top corner of the sheet, fingering it as he glanced at the bold and elaborate logo next to it.
Aizen Worldwide, headed currently by Sosuke Aizen, was a family company that had been established generations ago. It stood in centre if the Toranomon District in the Minato Ward of Tokyo, the sterile whiteness of its exterior shining in the city where it was never truly dark. They had their foot in every door; investments, finance and accounting, research and development, architecture and even interior design. It was a big company that required a lot of managing and organisation, and the Human Resources department was constantly dealing with hiring and firing. Grimmjow's job could be demanding, but as opposed to the other position at the same promotional level, he didn't have to leave the country for work, and that suited him just fine.
It wasn't normally this difficult to understand his papers; he'd clearly just done as much as he could for one day. Being the Senior Manager of Local Architecture and Interior Design, he worked directly under the Head of Local and Foreign Architecture and Interior Design, Barragan Louisebairn. He had a number of accounts that he was to look after personally, and then he had to oversee the accounts that his workforce looked after, before presenting them to Louisebairn in a meeting every month. It was very rare when there wasn't some paper that had to be read, some contract to get signed or some meeting that he had to set up. But then again, he hadn't really expected any less when he accepted a managerial position. If he hadn't needed the money, he wouldn't have taken it but, alas, he had to make sure he could live comfortably.
Growling, he shoved the papers into a messy pile and filed them haphazardly into his briefcase, not caring about the order – or state – of them at the moment. He pulled his work key ring out of the case and locked his desk drawers, before he picked up his blazer and personal items and left the office, locking that door behind him as well. He glanced at his name, embossed on a gold plate on his door with his rather lengthy work title below it, and grinned. He'd have never thought he would be here, especially at the young age of 25. If someone had told him fresh out of high school that in nine years' time he'd be doing what he was doing, he would have laughed in their face.
He took a slow walk towards the elevator on the other side of the building that would take him up to the CEO office ten floors above him, stopping by a vending machine for a quick sugar fix to get his mind somewhat working again. He went through the annoying process, watching like a hawk as the coil that lets the chocolate bar fall into the collection draw span, almost daring it to get stuck just before the chocolate fell. With the mood he was in, he would have revelled in beating the machine until it spat it out. He ripped the Twix packet open a little more violently than necessary and crammed half a finger into his mouth. He swallowed hard and ate the other half as he stepped into the elevator, chewing fast as he pressed the button that would take him to the top floor.
He turned to the back wall of the elevator, which was a floor to ceiling mirror. He ran a hand through his hair again, this time in an attempt to put some kind of discipline into the now unruly strands rather than in frustration. He rearranged his tie at the neck before he smoothed it flat to his chest.
He was quite a tall man, standing at 6'1", and was very muscular in build. His white shirt was fitted to his frame, to the point that you could almost see the chiselled chest that lay beneath it. He wore light grey slacks that covered long, powerful legs, with black shoes and a black belt. The only colourful thing about his attire was his tie, which had a diamond pattern where several shades of blue were put together. He placed his black briefcase between his feet and pulled his grey blazer on, completing the formal outfit. It was no good to turn up to head mans' office in an unkempt uniform. He once heard about a guy a few years back who turned up to a meeting with him, blazer in hand instead of wearing it because it was a warm day, and he got a demotion. A vicious rumour, Grimmjow was sure, but it had to be rooted from somewhere.
His boss's assistant didn't even look up as the doors opened and the man stepped out. His silver hair hooded his eyes as he typed away at his computer, but Grimmjow could see his smile. That damned, creepy-assed smile. He took a quick glance around and spied the water dispenser in the corner, only just realising how thirsty the chocolate had made him. He pulled a cup out of the holder and pulled the tap, filling the cup and drinking it in one. Not fully satisfied, he poured another and brought it to his lips, intent on drinking it a little slower.
"Jaegerjaquez-san?"
Grimmjow nearly choked on his water when the voice came from behind him. He wasn't a jumpy guy but, in the silence, the silver haired, fox-like man had caught him by surprise. Oh, how he loved to watch other people squirm.
"Yes?" He sputtered, trying his best to recompose himself as he turned, wiping away some stray water that had begun to dribble down his chin – thanking god none of it had went onto his shirt.
"Aizen-sama will see you now." The man smiled wide and thin from behind his desk, his lips pressed together with his eyes closed.
Grimmjow nodded, tossing his little plastic cup into the trash can next to the dispenser and making his way to the door. He glanced at his watch, somewhat surprised to be seen so soon. He normally turned up early because the big boss would make your life hell for a while if you were late, making you work longer hours and shit. And Grimmjow couldn't afford that stuff on short notice again.
He knocked twice on one of the rich oak doors, waiting for a muffled 'enter' before he turned the brass door knob and stepped through.
"Aizen-sama," Grimmjow bowed his head slightly as he closed the door behind him.
The man behind the desk was resting on his elbows with his hands clasped. The smile on his face was one of serenity, but Grimmjow did not trust this man's composure. Behind that handsome and stoic mask was the devil himself. Or at the very least, a close relation.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, I did." He leaned back in his winged chair and crossed his legs, running a hand over his immaculately slicked back, brown hair. "How has your day been?"
Grimmjow sat in the somewhat less lush chair on his side of the desk. "Fine, sir."
"Oh Grimmjow, there's no need to be so formal, I know it pains you."
Grimmjow smiled tightly. It was true, he had to put effort into politeness – not as much as when he first started this job - because he'd never been very proper. More thuggish than anything.
"Anyway, the reason I have called you here. I have a new account coming in, and I'd like for you to be in charge of it."
Grimmjow's eyebrows shot up at this. He really wasn't sure what to say to this proposal, seeing as it was coming from the man in front of him.
Aizen's smirk grew at the man's reaction. "This isn't just any account though, Grimmjow. It is a very important account, one we might lose if you make mistakes. And you know how I, personally, feel about mistakes."
The two stared at each other, Grimmjow refusing to break his gaze, refusing to back down under Aizen's commanding presence. He would have broken the silence, but he wasn't sure what to say anyway. There was bound to be some sort of catch.
In the end, it was Aizen who broke the silent staring match. "I'm sensing some hesitation."
"I just don't understand why you would you give it to me if its so important. Why not give it to Louisebairn?"
Aizen sighed and was about to answer, but a voice rang through on his intercom.
"Aizen-sama? Sorry to interrupt."
The man leant forward and pressed a button. "What is it, Gin?"
"Tamaka-san is on the line, he says it is urgent."
Aizen pursed his lips somewhat, glancing at Grimmjow briefly before gesturing that he would come back to him. He picked up the wireless handset and spoke into the mouth piece as he stood up and walked a few steps away from the desk. "Put him through."
Grimmjow couldn't have cared less about what was urgent, not even taking time to listen to the one-sided conversation. He looked around the room, taking in expensive pieces of artwork dotted around the room, and even spent a minute staring at the clawed feet that were attached to the expansive wooden desk in front of him.
It was a rich room, all in all. Dark woods and reds, with low lighting despite the wall of windows. The blackout drapes limited the sunlight and were, currently, fully drawn to block out the dull grey day outside. It was a complete one-eighth compared to the rest of the building.
"Just get it done, Tamaka. I will not tolerate failure on this subject."
The phone was put down abruptly but not violently and Aizen took his seat behind the desk once again, his face as smooth as before. Whatever had just been discussed was clearly somewhat important to the man, and the threat behind his words was silent but clear, to anyone who knew the man enough.
"I'm sorry about the interruption."
"S'okay," Grimmjow shrugged, it didn't bother him at all.
"As I was going to say... Our dear Barragan is months away from retirement. We need to find his replacement, and I think you have potential."
Grimmjow furrowed his brow. Sure, that was a compliment, but a possible promotion? Barragan sometimes worked even longer hours than anyone else, and he didn't really want that.
"Obviously, I must give Antenor-san a chance as well, so I have also given him a task to prove his worth, but I must admit Grimmjow, I like you for the job."
At the mention of Luppi, Grimmjow scowled. He really did not like that man.
Aizen chuckled, "Yes. You are much more imposing and stand up for your choices and opinion's. You're not afraid. That's what I like about you. Having a compliant work force is good for business, but you are a welcome breathe of fresh air."
"Uhm... Thank you?"
The suave man stood once again, this time making his way over to a liquor cabinet. He pulled out two crystalline glasses and a bottle, unscrewing the lid and pouring a little bit into each. He put the bottle away and came back to the desk, placing a glass in front of Grimmjow.
"Glenfiddich Solera," he motioned to the glass. "Twenty one years old, single malt, and with a rum finish. It nearly as old as you are."
Grimmjow nodded and picked up the glass, breathing in its intense aroma of what he though was rich toffee mixed with banana and floral hints. It was very sweet. Taking a drink, he held the liquid on his tongue, savouring the smoky taste, with spices, and then the burning in his throat and chest as he swallowed it.
"So, what account is it, Aizen-sama?" Grimmjow asked, taking another sip.
"Kuchiki Music Limited."
The man observed Grimmjow's reaction. It was minimal, but he could see the surprise in his eyes. Kuchiki Music Ltd. was a big company in America, with what Grimmjow imagined were a lot of expenses. They were a recording label that had signed on some of the best musicians in the past ten years. He'd worked big companies before, in fact, his biggest account was one that he had to travel down to Fukuoka to deal with initially. But not only was this account even bigger, it was foreign.
"Kuchiki is looking for a company to design their new headquarters in Japan, and their looking to a local company to do it. Byakuya Kuchiki is the CEO, he hails from Japan and I have somewhat of a link with him. We are in the running and I want to be in the lead."
Grimmjow read between the lines, sensing what Aizen was really trying to get across with his last statement. 'No room for failure.' It wasn't the case of just wanting the account, he demanded that the company should have it. He was also aware that, though the man across from him appeared to be offering him some form of option he was, in actual fact, not. He would end up doing this account whether he liked it or not.
He sighed as he resigned himself to his fate. "Are there any specific details I should know about?"
"I'm happy you accept." Aizen opened a desk drawer, his eyes glittering with triumph as he reached in for a file, extracting it and handing it over. "This is all the information the research team were able to dig up on Kuchiki himself, and there are detailed descriptions of his three American Headquarters. You will have to arrange a meeting with them to find out what they have in mind, you know, the usual."
Grimmjow nodded, opening the file and flipping through it briefly, a few colourful images jumping out at him.
"I'm relying on you Grimmjow." The teal eyed being looked back up into brown eyes, "Do not disappoint me."
Grimmjow's eyes hardened, hating the man's tone. He stood abruptly, "Will that be all?"
"Yes, I believe it is." He sat back in his chair again, "I'd appreciate it if you got to this as soon as possible. If you're going to replace Barragan, I'd like this to be finished when he retires."
Grimmjow didn't even respond, not trusting himself in the mood he was in. He bowed his head lightly, to show some respect, before making a swift exit.
He didn't look at Gin as he passed, but he could feel the mans' eyes on him. He walked into the elevator and punched the button for the ground floor. Was he fuck going to hang around until half five, he was clocking out early today. He quickly typed up an email on his phone to send to his next in command, saying that they were to have a group meeting in the morning and that he was leaving early, and then fidgeted for the rest of his fifteen floor descent.
The reception floor was almost deserted when he arrived, what with it being about five o'clock. The walls and floor were pure white, and the glass to wall ratio was seriously unbalanced. The sky outside was still grey, just as it had been all day. Hopefully, with it being early spring, the weather would begin to pick up soon. The cherry blossoms would be out in bloom at the very least.
"Good afternoon, Jaegerjaquez-sama, are you leaving for the day?"
"That I am."
"Enjoy your evening."
He threw a casual arm gesture over his shoulder and mumbled to himself, "I wish I could."
He walked out of the revolving glass door and looked from left to right, as he reached into the inside pocket of his blazer for a his pack of cigarettes. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, so he quickly pulled out a tab and shoved it in his mouth. He replaced the box and pulled out his iPhone, seeing the background picture before the name. It depicted a very tall and thin man, with jet black hair that fell halfway down his back and a bandana covering his eye. In the picture, he was passed out drunk on the sofa, with a huge penis drawn on his bare chest in permanent marker. He chuckled at the picture, just like always, before he slide the icon along and answered. "What's up?" He spoke around his cigarette, lighting up while he waited for an answer.
"Come out for a drink." Nnoitra said, his grin evident in his tone.
"I dunno man, I have to get home."
"Nah man! Emo's comin' out too, just come for a couple, ya don' have ta be home late."
Grimmjow frowned. He really could do with a beer, just to chill out a bit before he got home. God knows, his head was battered off all of the paperwork. "Where at?"
"The usual," was the other's answer. "We're on our way there now."
"Okay, I won't be long."
"Good man." The line went dead before Grimmjow could say anything else, making him scoff. That man was an ass at the best of times. It was a shame he was his best friends.
He shoved his hand, along with his phone, in his pocket and went left, starting a steady walk to the bar.
A/N: I know this a setting up chapter and I promise that you'll find out more soon. Let me know what you think, its took a long time for me to come back to writing and I think as I've gotten older my style has changed quite a bit. Chapter 2 is already written and will be posted soon!