7:45 PM
The figure stood faithfully beside the limousine's door. The master, she observed, was forty-five minutes late, for the party was supposed to start with all the patrons present. She readjusted her tie and briefly wondered if she made it right.
By all means, she will never understand the point of slinging a flimsy piece of cloth around the neck.
Finally the man arrived. Although he was neatly groomed and tailored, the dark bags under the man's droopy face and his almost wild but dazed sort of expression didn't escape her notice. She took a step back with precision and made a low bow.
"Good evening sir. The car is ready." She moved to open the door but his expression stopped her short.
Irritable and rude as he was, he demanded. "You are not my driver! Where is he? How come this is the first time I've seen you? Who gave you the permission!?"
"He resigned two weeks ago, sir. I have been your temporary chaperon since."
Eyeing her with uncertainty but relenting nonetheless, Light Nostrade slowly entered the car without much sensible thought but exhaustion and distrust towards everything around him except for the head bodyguard who stood beside him for the most part. It seemed to her, the only opinion that mattered to the old man the most was of the latter's.
The drive was silent.
The party ended later than she expected. She was allowed to go home (for there was no space for her in that that humongous empty mansion) but not without a few words and insults from the distracted old man that have become annoyingly repetitive in the duration that she was employed as his driver. The income was a lot lower than most of them who worked under him, but it was the biggest amount she had received in her entire life.
There was no need for artificial light as the strong moonlight poured into the small, cramped room. Several bills of money was scattered all over the tiny bed, each one meticulously counted. The girl sighed.
Still not enough.
She lied flat against her back and stared blankly at the chipped-off paint at the ceiling. The room was the cheapest and nearest one yet, and although its condition was worse than bad, it was all she could afford as of the moment. Not that she was complaining though. Finally having a room to sleep in was a blessing enough.
She could hear a woman's giggle and a hoarse grunt outside. Ah, the cycle goes on, she mused wryly. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable, her inhaler safely in one hand in case her lungs would betray her again. After a few moments, the banging of the wall and the throaty moans with strings of incoherent curses resonated the entire vicinity.
She imagined sunny fields and daffodils and the smell of pancakes perhaps.
It was a good image enough to drown everything.