I was late. The first day on my new job and I was already running late. Or I suppose it was still my old job really – same position same responsibility- but with a drastic change of scenery. My move from the London branch of 'The Daily Planet' to the Metropolis branch couldn't have come at a more chaotic time in the world of news, with what's been dubbed as the new Krypton fiasco just three days ago (last Friday). I was assuming that the bullpen would still be a buzzing hive of extra activity; everyone was likely to be feeling stressed and overworked. Not the best first-day atmosphere, and my tardiness would most likely be tolerated all the less. Brilliant.
I was alternating my pace between a jog and a brisk walk as I haphazardly weaved my way through the crowded rush hour streets; at the same time endeavouring to pull my short coppery hair into what I hoped was a neat bun, leaving my fringe hanging free in my malteser brown eyes. Swerving at the last second I just managed to stop myself from walking straight into a haggard looking woman, and almost lost one of my shoes in the process. (At least I'd thought to wear flats.)
I spared myself a glance at my watch, it was nine fifteen. I was meant to be in Mr. White's office by nine - o - five. I took the large stone steps leading up to the Daily Planet's building two at a time hurrying towards the revolving doors, my case bashed against the glass as I pushed through. I could see the lift doors at the other end of the room beginning to slide shut, and I really hadn't the time to wait for the next car to arrive. All this because I'd been out late last night taking photos of my new home city's skyline, coupled with the fact that I still hadn't gotten around to unpacking my alarm clock from the many boxes that littered my new apartment.
Just when I thought I wouldn't make it before the doors slid shut, someone inside the lift held out a hand to keep it waiting for me. I slid into the small space panting slightly - out of breath.
"Thanks!" I breathed gratefully, tuning to look at my... well for better word saviour. He was very tall, bespectacled and was dressed in an ill-fitting brown three piece suit. He gave me a wide goofy grin in return; it was oddly charming in a strange way that I couldn't quite place. The lift gave me a few moments in which to compose myself appropriately, straightening out my navy blazer over my cream coloured linen shirt, and brushing down my grey trousers – sorry pants, I was in America now. (And while I was at it I suppose it wasn't a lift anymore either, rather an elevator.)
When the doors slid open once more I was greeted by a very noisy and crowded newsroom. It was a familiar sight to me, having worked in rooms such as these for about four years, but at the same time it was completely alien. It seemed much more intense than it had been in London, much faster paced; I was looking forward to getting stuck in. The tall man I'd shared the lif- Elevator with exited first, giving me another smile, and I followed after.
"Where's that new photographer from England?" a voice bellowed out across the bustle, effectively silencing the room. I cringed, and looking towards the source of the summons caught sight of Perry White - Chief Editor of 'The Daily Planet'- leaning out of what I presumed to be his office door. He caught sight of me at the same time.
"There you are! You're late! My office now Smith!" The head disappeared, and I cringed again. Great first impression Eliza, just great I congratulated myself.
A/N- short i know but future chapters will be longer