I own nothing.
She scowls with frustration at herself in the mirror. Damn my hair—it just won't behave, and damn Alex Danvers for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here she is, trying to brush her hair into submission. I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, she attempts, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. She rolls her eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, dark blonde-haired girl with blue eyes too big for her face staring back at her, and gives up. Her only option is to restrain her wayward hair in a ponytail and hope that it'll look semi-presentable.
Alex is her roommate, and she has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she cannot attend the interview she'd arranged to do, with some mega-industrialist tycoon Kara has never heard of, for the student newspaper. So the blonde have been volunteered. She has final exams to cram for and one essay to finish, and she's supposed to be working this afternoon, but no—today she has to drive miles away to National City in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of L-Corp. As an exceptional entrepreneur and major benefactor of their university, his time is extraordinarily precious—much more precious than hers, Kara thinks—but he has granted Alex an interview. A real coup, Alex tells her. And damn her extracurricular activities.
Alex is huddled on the couch in the living room.
"Kara, I'm sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It will take another six to reschedule, and we'll both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can't blow this off. Please," Alex begs her in a rasping, sore throat voice. How does she do it? Even ill she looks gamine and gorgeous, chocolate brown hair in place and eyes bright, although now red rimmed and runny. Kara ignores her pang of unwelcome sympathy.
"Of course I'll go, Alex. You should get back to bed. Would you like some NyQuil or Tylenol?"
"NyQuil, please. Here are the questions and my digital recorder. Just press record here. Make notes, I'll transcribe it all."
"I know nothing about him," She murmurs, trying and failing to suppress her rising panic. Alex smirks.
"The questions will see you through. Go. It's a long drive. I don't want you to be late."
"Okay, I'm going. Get back to bed. I made you some soup to heat up later." Kara stares at her fondly. Only for you, Alex, would I do this.
"I will. Good luck. And thanks, Kara—as usual, you're my hero."
Gathering her backpack, the blonde smiles wryly at her, then heads out the door to the car. She cannot believe she has let Alex talk her into this. But then Alex can talk anyone into anything. She's articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative, beautiful—and she's Kara's dearest, dearest friend.
Let me know if I should go on with this, please. Suggestions are accepted.