This first chapter may seem slightly slow moving and bitty but its only really to set the scene and give people a breif outline the mainstory line will be coming out in later chapters.
Thankyou so much to hannh for being my beta, I love you girl!
I own none of the characters or settings in this story.
I used to be somebody. Now I'm someone else.
She walked down the white halls of Runway, her vision and mind set to what was at the end of the long clinically coloured corridor. The only place that she actually felt safe. God, the amount of times she had wished so desperately that that was not true, but it was and it is and there was nothing she could do about it.
The last few weeks had been hard. When she returned home from Paris, she didn't expect to find a crumpled piece of paper on her kitchen work top with her name scribbled on it at a slant. She didn't expect the words that read on the other side of the piece of paper either.
. . . . . .
" You ruined it for yourself, I was prepared to take whatever you threw at me but another lover is a step too far; a woman, who is your boss is totally another level. Don't expect me to ever accept this ridiculous show you seem to be performing. You are like a puppet on a string and she is the show master. Go back to your white haired 'beauty' I hope you two are very happy. Just remember this, you ruined us, all by yourself the only person who changed was you. You make me feel sick! People like you don't deserve to be happy! See you around, 'ahhdrayahh.'"
That was the first thing she read when she got back to her apartment in the early hours of Sunday morning. All she wanted to do was flop into bed and sleep. However, that thought quickly disappeared as she read from the paper with the scruffy writing in her hand. She didn't understand. Another lover? A woman? What was he talking about? 'Miranda?' she thought to herself as she re read the letter. So he thought she was having an affair with her boss? Her boss who was a woman? She understood now. She understood Nate's continuous need to insult her, her job and her boss at any given opportunity. He thought there was foul play involved.
She knew her job was affecting her long term boyfriend but not to that extent. She simply thought that their break would last while she was away in Paris and that when she came back, both she and Nate would have had enough time away from each other to be able to talk to each other reasonably and try to rekindle their love and keep their relationship going. Well obviously not.
That night she tucked the note under the bread bin with all the rest of her post that seemed to growing in height since being away for a week and made her way to her now empty bed. She pulled the covers right up to her nose and lay on her side. Her brain was working overtime, too many thoughts in the space of such a short time was not healthy for anyone. Refusing to think any more she forced her eyes to shut and her brain to switch off the best it could and attempted to sleep.
. . . . . . .
Walking towards her desk she knew people were looking at her but she couldn't seem to find the strength to care. Her life appeared to be falling apart in more ways than one. Nate had come back two weeks later with a scruffy rucksack slung over his left shoulder, a beer in one hand and the note he had left her in the other. Stubble covered his jaw and the outer edges of his cheeks, making him look some what attractive, yet, rough and uncared for at the same time.
Since that day, Andrea would walk into the office and have a note waiting for her on her key board. Each note being a gentle threat just to remind her not to cross the line again with her boss.
She really couldn't fathom where all this was coming from, she hadn't overstepped the mark in any way at all. Her boss was just that, her boss and very professional. In the whole time she had known Miranda Priestly she had never once noticed Miranda look at anyone in a way that could indicate anything other than professionalism.
Three weeks later notes were still being put on her keyboard when she arrived to work. However today's note seemed slightly out of the ordinary. Well slightly was an understatement.
"I saw your grotty picture in the local gossip column; you appear very close I must say. Wait till you get home my girl, I'll show you what close is!"
Okay, now she was worried. Her face must have shown this because as Nigel came in he took one look at her and held out is hand.
"Come with me."
He led her into the kitchen out of eye and earshot to the rest of the office, squeezed her hand and looked at her compassionately.
"What's going on six? You are not, you anymore. I mean you look like you, but your face says something completely different and everyone has noticed."
Andrea looked at her friend and colleague. How could she answer that question with out telling all? All she could do was shake her head and let go of Nigel's hand.
"Nothing Nigel, I'm just not feeling myself that's all, don't worry." She gave a weak, fake smiled.
Looking at the young woman's usually so expressive eyes, Nigel gently nodded his head understanding not to push the issue any further.
"Okay lady, but I'm watching you, anything I can do to help you let me know, I don't like seeing you like this, it's not normal. You are normally the one who keeps everything at a certain level of calmness round here and yet I look at you and I can't see any calm in you at all, it's unnerving. You just let me know okay?"
Gently taking the man's hand back into hers, Andrea gently stroked the back of it.
"Thank you, Nigel, it means a lot."
With a smile Nigel released her hand and went to turn away.
"Don't mention it six, remember, I'm here."
. . . . . . .
The rest of the day seemed to go as the rest had recently, Andrea doing everything on autopilot. Listening and dealing with Miranda's commands the best she could, only talk when she was spoken to and only moving when it was completely necessary.
Her movements were slightly slower than normal, her clothes draped her body in a way that was no longer attractive and her hands shook when not having hold of anything or suspended mid air for longer than was needed, she was never completely comfortable. It was worse when she would have to hand Miranda her coffee. She would try to control her sudden shaking tendencies for as long as possible yet they were never fully covered and the coffee would slosh around in the take out cup.
. . . . . . . .
Sitting behind her desk Andrea noticed something wasn't quite right. Nigel was in the outer office and hurried himself into Miranda's office quicker than even Miranda demanded. He turned to look at the younger woman before shutting the door behind him.
'Strange' Andrea thought to herself.
Looking up from the spread on her desk Miranda peered over the top of her glasses.
"Nigel, how can I help you?" She asked, in her quite tone of voice.
Inhaling deeply Nigel moved towards the chair opposite his boss.
"I need to talk to you, it's important."
"Oh?" Miranda wasn't really interested.
"It's about Andy." He sighed
At this Miranda couldn't help a slight snort that escaped her. Looking back down Miranda showed disinterest and she replied.
"I have no idea what could be so important when talking about Andrea."
"Miranda, don't do this. Just listen to me for once."
Nigel stared straight at his boss. His boss stared straight back. Taking a breath and not breaking eye contact Nigel began his very much thought out speech.
"Something is not right with her Miranda. Everyday she moves slower, her face doesn't hold that happiness that grates on everybody last nerve. Couture doesn't even fit right on her anymore. She even shakes. She doesn't think I have noticed but each morning a note is left on her desk and each morning her face drops a little bit more once she has read it. We are losing her Miranda. There is something going on, I have tried to speak to her but she just shook her head and brushed off my concerns. When have you ever known her to speak anything but the truth?"
Through the whole speech Miranda sat there with her finger softly rubbing her top lip. Thinking back to the last few weeks she had noticed that Andrea wasn't fully herself but she thought it had something to do with the little episode in Paris. Contemplating his words Miranda looked down at her hands then back up at Nigel.
"So what exactly do you want me to do about it?"
"Talk to her Miranda. I want you to talk to her. She will listen to you and you know it."
"And what exactly would you like me to say? 'Andrea, Nigel has told me you are acting a bit strangely lately, I demand you tell me why you are acting like a nervous wreck and why over the last 5 weeks has the smallest size we supply in the runway closet no longer fit you?' Come on Nigel get a grip of yourself." Miranda looked back down at the spread on her desk.
With this Nigel raised his eyebrow. "For a very clever woman you really don't pay that much attention do you? Watch her and you will see what everyone else is seeing, the girl needs help Miranda and you're the only one who can do that."
With that, Nigel rose from his chair opened the office doors and walked straight back to department, leaving Miranda to consider what her friend had just told her.
. . . . .
Throughout the rest of the day Andrea couldn't help but feel the eyes of her boss watching her. Turning ever so slightly in her chair Andrea noticed that the only other person in the office with her was the older woman. Where had all the time gone? She hadn't even noticed Emily leave for the day.
Turning fully she looked straight at her boss. Her eyes didn't hold any form of scrutiny or disgust, it was something else, something the younger woman hadn't ever seen Miranda show before.
Before she had time to consider what emotion was playing on the woman's face her name was called.
"Andrea?"
Rising from her chair, she moved as quickly as her aching bones could carry her and walked straight into Miranda's office.
"Shut the door Andrea and sit down."
Turning on her heel she did as she was told as the older woman sat gazing at her for some time.
"I..I don't understand Miranda, is there something you want?"
She couldn't take the silence any longer, it made her ears ring.
"Yes actually there is. See I've been watching you and something is... off. What's wrong with you Andrea? What's going on?"
Both sets of eyes stared straight at each other neither was willing to back down first.
"I don't understand? There is nothing wrong, have I done something wrong? Am I not working at the right level?"
" No no, your work is fine Andrea it's you." Miranda said, looking at the young woman's clothing in front of her.
"What size are you now Andrea?" She asked, in an almost concerned tone.
"Excuse me?" Andrea was taken back.
"Your dress size. What size are you? I'd say about 0-2? Now tell me in Paris you were a 4 if I remember correctly. So tell me how have you managed to drop nearly 2 dress sizes in the space of about 5 weeks?"
Andrea lowered her head and tugged at her sleeve self consciously.
"I don't see where this is going Miranda; I thought you liked your employee's thin?"
"Yes I do Andrea however I like them healthy a lot more. When was the last time you ate?"
At this Andrea looked down at her hands. Actually when was the last time she ate? She remembered eating a handful of nuts about 3 days ago but anything after that she could not recall.
"I want an answer. When was the last time you ate?" she asked again.
"Errrm, I think it was three days ago." Andrea lowered her head down even lower.
At this Miranda's jaw dropped slightly. She expected this type of behaviour from someone like Emily who's only thought was her image, but not Andrea. The woman had never really been interested in that aspect of fashion. Well, come to think about it she wasn't really interested in fashion at all. She wanted to write. So this type of behaviour was ever so unusual.
"And you think that is acceptable? Go and ring for food for yourself and you will sit here and eat it. And when you have done that we are going to talk about what is really going on."
Panic rose in the back of Andrea's brain, no she couldn't do that, the last time food had even entered her stomach it came back up at a very rapid speed; not even allowing her body to take the nutrients it needed to keep her going.
"No Miranda I couldn't. I.. I'll eat when I get home, the book will be ready soon so I'll be eating within an hour."
Raising her eyebrow Miranda took of her glasses that were resting on the bridge of her nose.
"No, I don't think you understand Andrea. In order for you to continue working here you must be fit and healthy. Judging by the way that beautiful Chanel is hanging off your shoulders I would say you are far from healthy. Now, go and order yourself some food."
Out of nowhere Andrea inhaled deeply, puffed out her chest and looked her boss straight in the eye.
"No." she said, weakly.
"I beg your pardon?" Miranda was taken a back with this response.
"I said no Miranda; you can order me around as much as you want on a professional basis but since my health is not harming you, or my job I will not do this particular task you ask of me."
Miranda smirked and sniffed. She thought rapidly and came up with an idea. The only one she would be able to play in order to get her assistant to do as she was told.
"Oh but Andrea if you don't do what I am telling you it will affect you on a professional level. I refuse to see you become emaciated before my very eyes. So, if you do not order that food and sit right over there on that couch you will have no job to come back to." Miranda almost smirked.
That last comment really annoyed the younger woman and with out thinking she rose from the chair and stormed towards the door. Turning around one last time she looked her boss straight in the eye and said "fuck you" before opening the door and pulling her coat out of the closet and heading towards the lift.
. .. . . . .
"Shit"
Miranda cursed herself as she sat watching her door shake on its hinges and her assistant walking out on her.
"Well, that could have gone better." She sighed to herself and leant back on her chair.
. . . . .
Walking out into the cold night's air, Andrea took a deep breath and began walking to the nearest subway station. Fear gripped her body as she remembered the words in today's note.
"Wait till you get home my girl, I'll show you what close is!"
Thankyou all for reading. Please let me know what you think and whether it is worth continuing. I assure you there will be Mirandy and we will get there soon.
Thankyou 3