"That will never do! No one wants to read this crap! Celebrities, fashion, animal babies. This is what our readers are interested in! If it goes on like that, you'll get the chop!" Yelledmy boss at me. It's always the same, every article I reach in isn't worth being published, and just because I write my opinion and how the world really is. Not like the amount of journalists, who just write about trivial stuff.
"Now make yourself usefull and go get some coffee!" Said he out loud and pointed at the door.
It's always the same! angrily I left his office, grabbed my coat and walked out of the building. While I was walking in the coldness to the next coffeehouse, I thought that I was a journalist annd not a gofer. It was full to overflowing, just as usual, and it felt like I was standing in line for over three hours. When it finally was my turn I orderd coffee for everyone and a blueberry muffin for mywself. With everything in my hands I rushed back to the office as suddenly some idiot barged angainst me.
"'Re you blind? Can't you pay attention?" I jumped down his throatand picked up the fallen bag in which the muffin was. "Usually I don't ignore beauties like you." said he with a brite smile on his face, while he examined me from top to bottom. "What a jerk." mumbled I and kept going. "Too much coffee isn't healthy!" said he, still laughing. Keep going and don't turn around, I told myself.
By arriving at the office I distributed the coffee cups and when I went to my desk I saw a note sticked on my computer "Sullivan wants to see you!"
It was exhausting, I spend more time in my bosses office than at my desk.
"I'll be brief; this is your last chance. If you flunk this article, I'll kick you out. Got it?" said he and I nodded. "Fine. You'll write an article 'bout New Year's Eve, here in New York and how people celebrate it. On monday it has to be on my desk, if it's good it'll be published, if not you can go job hunting."
Who'd he think he was? I'd love nothing better than to give it to him straight, but I was depentend on the job and the money. "Of course, Mr. Sullivan, I got it. My next article will match your expectations."
Angrily I left his office, grabbed my muffin, which I couldn't eat because I was too angry, and drove home.
Infront of the house I stayed in the car and hammered on the steering wheel. What makes this pathetic douche treat me like this? I didn't study journalism just to be pushed around.
New Year's Eve in New York
What a great topic for an article, especially considering that our journal is only sold in the USA and most people know that it's bloody chaos at Times Square on New Year's Eve. Otherwise I couldn't risk finding the dismessal on my desk on monday, for better or worse I had to change my spots.
The apartment was empty. Alice, my roommate, was still at work. Unlike me she was satisfied with her job; she was a hairdresser in one of the hottest hair salons in whole New York City. Celebrities included.
I sat on the couch with my laptop on my lap, and there were hundreds of printed sheets full of information distributed around me. To me it seemed impossible to write an article about such a ridiculous topic. As I was starting to type, Alice came rushing in our apartment and talked nineteen to the dozen.
"Rose, Rose, take a look at this flyer. We absolutely have to go there. They have world-famous deejays and are known for..." started she and at some point I stopped listening to her.
" Easy now, Alice" tried I to stop her flow of words. "I ain't got time for that, and to be honest I wouldn't come even if I had time."
You could clearly see her mouth corners slowly went down. "But,but, but..." started she stammering. "It New Year's Eve and I wanna party. As long as you're my roommate and best friend, it's my duty to get you outta the apartment. Was I clear, young lady?" said she with raised forefinger and voice.
"My career depends on this article, Alice." said I now with raised voice. Meanwhile, she looked at my sheets and asked me with a hunched eiybrow "Rose... What is your article 'bout?" "Uhm... New York City." answered I slowly, because I knew she would use my work for her benefit. „And what exactly 'bout New York City?" probed Alice. "New Year's Eve" I answered so quiet that she actually couldn't have heard it but nothing escaped her bat-like ears. "New Year's Eve? Really? What could help you more to write an article 'bout New Year's Eve in New York City than going to one of the coolest parties in town?" she asked euphorical and I knew I had no more chance to stay at home.
"Alright, I guess I have no other chance than bowing to your will" I said resigned. All of a sudden she started jumping up and down and clapped her hands. "Brilliant. Now swing your tushy into your room and get dressed up" she called and nodged me in the direction of my room.
After I was ready I went over to Alice, who was barely ready. „If you don't hurry, we can stay home, 'cause New Year's Eve will be already be over." I said while I leant against the doorframe. „Haha, hilarious Rose." She stroke back sarcastically.
After Alice was ready, we caught a cab and hit the road. When I saw all these people infront oft he club, the only thing I could think about was going home, but Alice bottled me up. Once wes et foot in the club, Alice dragged me to the dancefloor and forced me to dance with her.
„Going for some drinks." I said, to flee from the dancefloor and Rachel. As I edged myself through the crowd to order some drinks at the bar, I heard a familiar voice. „A beer and a camomile tea fort the lady."
„You again? What do you want here?" I asked furios, when I turned around and looked right into the face of that jerk who barged into me this morning.
„Always that crabby, huh?" he countered bold and with a giant smile on his face. What did this guy think he was?! „I gotta go." I mumbled and decided to go. I glanced over the whole dancefloor trying to find Alice. „Your friend looks kinda busy." He said after he sipped at his bottle and did a head movement towards a corner of the room. I followed his movement and there I saw Alice making out with some blonde beau. „Great…" I moaned and rolled my eyes.
After I left the club without saying a word I noticed that I had to walk the entire way home whereas we arrived at the club with a cab.
While I was walking, I suddenly perceived engine noises behind me, so I accelerated my tempo. „You're leaving your friend alone with a stranger?" cat-called the guy from the bar at me. I stopped immediately and turned around. „What do you care?" called I back bitchy and continued my walk.
„Well, that guy could be a crazy psychopath." He answered and continued riding behind me. „Really? And this comes from a guy who follows me in a dark and enpty street on a motorcycle?!" I yelled angry and stood with arms akimbo to reinforce my statement.
He broke out into laughter and and pulled up next to me. „C'mon it's cold. I can drive you home." He offered politely. „No, thanks. Who says you're not a crazy psycopath?" I countered this time.
„If you want, I'll drive dead slowly, so that you can jump off, when you think your safety is in jeopardy." He suggested.
„Yeah, right, 'cause it's safer to jump off a driving motorcycle." I responded.
It's unbelievable, how he could persuade me to get on this death machine. „What's your name?" he asked and turned around while he was driving. „Keep an eye on the fucking road!" I shouted at him because he already drove way to fast.
„That's a rare name." He answered sarcastically „By the way, I'm Emmett." „Great. Now I know who's driving me into death." I retored snappy. „Will you tell me your name as well?" he asked and ignored my last statement. „If you focus more on the streat." I answered. „I'm Rosalie."
Right away he slowed down, but it couldn't smooth me. If we had crashed and had lain badly injured on the street, no one would've been able to bring help. It could also be possible that he, Emmett, would stop right now to rape kill me. Even if I had the impression that he wouldn't do that; he looked more like a nice guy but how was I supposed to know he'd really bring me home. How could I just get on this motorcycle?
„Wait. Did we just go past my street?" I asked astonished and moved my head backwards. Unhesitating he drove faster. „What's going on? Halt here and now!" I yelled while I was hammering on his back. „Hey, would you stop hitting me, otherwise I'll crash." The psycopath complained. „You're going to slit me anyway so don't start complaining!" I shouted back. „Calm down, I forgot my knives at home. You won't be harmed." He said laughing, whereupon I started punching him even harder. „Would you please stop now?" he asked repititiously. „Would you please halt NOW?" I asked back and he actually did. Infront of a park. In the darkness. So much about I'm not gonna be harmed.
It's incredible how he charmed the pants off me. „Just get across." Emmett said standing on the other side oft he fence. I tried my best, but fell directly into his arms. „So passionate, after all?" he asked with his eyebrow perked up. Instantaneously I delivered myself out of his grasp and walked briskly away. Just a few feet away I spotted the contours of a big building but after regarding it intently I realized we were on a sports field. Great, now he incited me to incursion. Next time we will probably rob a bank.
„Why did you bring me here?" I asked while I settled myself next to him. „Do you really think I'll let you spend the rest of the year alone at home?" he replied smiling. I was just about to tell him I had something better to do than sitting here, but suddenly his exprission got thoughtful and he started to talk.
„My Dad and I used to come here when I was a child. When my parents got divorced I moved to Chicago with my Mom and saw my Dad only once a month. Then we always came here to play baseball. I'm always here when I need a time-out.". „It must be nice to have such a good relation to one's father." I said and noticed how his expression changed. „It was." He said and silenced. I knew that the following part was going tob e sad. „What happened?" I aked and Emmett told me the rest of his story. „About ten years ago, when I was fifteen, I came here like every month but he wasn't in. So I decided to walkt o his appartment but he wasn't there either. At his doorstep Mrs. Finkle, the old lady who lived next to him, told me he was in the hospital. The doctors said he had pancreas cancer. When I wanted to go to him, it was already too late.
Silence. I didn't know what to answer so I just leant against his shoulder, to let him know that I was listening and there for him. If I had known that this place has such an important meaning to him I wouldn't have been so rude at first.
We kept on being silent and we just stared in the dark sky, until the fireworks burst our silence. I jumped with fright and finally I caught a laughter from Emmett. The next thing I noticed were his lips on mine.
I looked at him quite dazed and the only think I could bring myself to say was a disturbed „What was that?". „Don't people usually do that on New Year's Eve?" he hemmed and perked his eyebrow up. „Uhm… I don't know. Possibly…" I stuttered, still overwhelmed, and realized how I blushed.
Emmett lay back and broke the silence again. „I told you my story. What 'bout yours?" I told him that I was working for a magazine. Sort of.
„What do you mean by that?" he pumped me and I explained that most oft he time I had to do donkeywork. „I mean, I didn't go to college fort hat. And the best part, if I don't reach in this article on Monday, I'll be canned. I need this job so bad but I don't wanna take shit from my boss anymore, you know?" he nodded and added „Why don't you write on your own? I mean, you love writing so why don't you start working on your own book or why don't you make an application to a better magazine?"
I liked the idea of writing my own book. I could finally write about things I'm interested in and nobody would treat me disparaging. They'd either buy my book or not.
Even if the idea of writing a book might be t obig, I could start working for a new magazine and besides I could work on my own book.
Slowly it was getting cold and I felt shivery. From the corner of my eye I percieved Emmett/Matt taking off his jacket. „I couldn't do that." He said after he put his jacket around my shoulders to keep me warm. „You couldn't do what?" I asked him while perking my eyebrow up. „Well, living such a stressful life." He said. Absolutly shocked I pumped „What kind of job do you have that isn't stressful in any way?"
„I travel a lot. Last Year, for example, I was in Brazil where I tought children the English language. I simply live there where my motorcycle takes me." Emmett explained.
His way of living was impressive and I had to acknowledge to myself that I was slightly envious of him. I could just dream about a life like that at the moment.
He lay back and I did the same. I had a cozy view into the sky of New York with his arm under my head. Since I've lived here I never really watched the stars. "You see that? It's the Greater Bear." Emmett said and pointed his finger up to the sky. We continued to construe the stars and Emmett showed me some more constellations and the North Star whereupon I made some constellations up or rather invented them and so I showed him the Greater Triangle like I entitled it.
I perceived a loud sound but couldn't classify it. By opening my eyes to go into the matter I blinked a couple of times. The sun shine directly into my face and it was toasty even though it's only January. I looked around to see if Emmett was awake, too, when I realized I was all by myself. Except for the man who cut the lawn.
Unbelievable. What a jerk! How could he leave me here after last night?!
I got up and brushed some locks of hair out of my face, as I realized that something was written on my palm. „Whenever you need a break." and below it a phone number.
With a smile on my face I hit the road back home.
Monday, time to hand in my article. My last chance to keep this job. I knocked at Mr. Sullivan's door and stepped inside his office after an unfriendly come in. By the time I wanted to say good morning, Mr. Sullivan." he interroppted me and said annoyed "Well let's hope for you, your article is good? Friendly I handed him my article over and observed his reaction while he skimmed the text. You call that New Year's Eve in New York?" he asked by raising his voice. "Well, what is your conception of New Year's Eve?" I asked irritated while I was triying to pull myself together. "Uhm, well, not this." was the only thing he was able to say. "You know what, Mr. Sullivan? Since I work here you haven't accepted one of my aticles and by now I thing it's not because of my writing style, but because you are down on me." I yelled. Today would be the day I 'd finally cut him down to size. "Think about in which tone of voice you're talking to me. Or do you want me to kick you out right now?" he jumped down my throat. I've never seen him this peeved before."To be honest, I don't care about what you're going to do because I won't take any shit from you anymore! I quit!"
Without waiting for an answer, I went out of his office and left the building.
By the time I was outside, Emmett sat in front of the building on his motorcycle, as agreed. "So, what did he say?" he asked curiosly. "He said it sucks, but however, I quit." I said and hiked my shoulders. Laughing he tapped on the seat behind him and invited me to get on the machine. Joining in his laughter I sat down behind him, wrapped my arms around his waste and placed my chin on his shoulder. He hit the road and we started our first adventure together.