A/N: This is a story that I have been thinking about for awhile. It's kind of an experiment so please let me know if it has potential or not. I hate it when authors beg for reviews so I'm going to ask for comments because they really help to keep me going. Enjoy!

Morning From Hell

I walked into my office for another long day of work, all of the hustle and bustle adding to my huge headache. This morning had not started out the way I had wanted it to. I had woken up an hour late because I had set my alarm for six pm not am. That happened to me last week too. You'd think that I would have learned from my mistake the first time, but no. I wouldn't be me if I learned from my mistakes. So, because I woke up an hour late, I had to rush through my usual morning routine. I threw on the first outfit I saw in my closet, a green button down shirt with brown pants, and then I headed straight to the bathroom. Of course, I got toothpaste all over my shirt. So, after brushing my teeth I had to go back into my disaster of a closet and change my shirt. Naturally, it was laundry day, so I didn't have a single decent outfit to choose from. I started throwing my clothes everywhere just praying that something would catch my eye. After a long search, I decided that a blue shirt would suffice, but naturally, that didn't match the pants I had on, so I had to change those too.

Then I couldn't find a pair of shoes to wear. I had tons of shoes, just none that matched. I was really wishing that I had two left feet by the end of hunt because that would have made my selection a hell of a lot easier. I finally found a pair of heels that matched my shirt. I would have never worn heels to work normally, that was just asking for a disaster, but I was in such a rush that heels were just going to have to do for today. I didn't even have time to make my hair look good. I took one last look in the mirror and saw the rat's nest on top of my head and I decided that putting it up in a ponytail was the best option.

On the way out the door I grabbed a muffin, my laptop, and my workbag. Who knows what I looked like at this point? I rushed out the door and dropped my muffin down the stairs. My apartment was only two flights up, but the muffin was definitely trash by the time it reached the bottom. The cleaning ladies were going to have a cow when they saw the trail of crumbs. I ran out the door of my apartment building and fell flat on my face on my way to the subway station. Everyone on the street stopped and starred. The guy walking behind me gasped and then busted out laughing. It was humiliating, but once again nothing new. I was used to falling; I have never been a graceful person. I got up and finally reached the subway when I thought that my morning couldn't get any worse. Then, the lady who sat down next to me on the train spilled her steaming hot coffee all over my pants. She apologized like crazy and I forgave her. Honestly, by that point I could have cared less. I got off at my stop and then walked into my crazy office where my head began throbbing.

Working at a newspaper was what I had dreamed of doing since the sixth grade. I always loved writing and I knew that seeing my name under the title of an article was my goal. I achieved that target pretty quick after graduating college. I got hired right off the bat by the company that I had interned with my senior year. I started with the boring pieces like meat packing and polar icecaps, but I slowly made my way up the chain. I found that by showing up for work on time and by never saying a word out loud, my work would slowly move from the back page towards the front. Just blend in, that was the key to my success.

As the months went on, instead of having small three paragraph articles, I was allowed to write entire columns about a subject. I started to get better assignments too. Suddenly I got to report on how a political campaign was doing instead of what type of cotton was better to use in socks. I started to gain respect from the staff. People actually called me by my name instead of just, 'hey you!' New interns would come to me and ask for advice on their small pieces of work that I remembered doing not that long ago. A few weeks ago I actually got to choose what I wanted to work on. There was a pecking order when it came to assignments, and I had somehow gotten onto the list. Previously, I was handed the trash that no one else wanted to report on. But lately, I was making my way higher and higher up the ladder. I had found my place at the paper.

I was one of the few new writers that wasn't sleeping their way to the top. It was an ongoing joke that in order to get your article on the front page, all you had to do was sleep with the editor. Our editor had slept with every female at the paper. He was known for mixing business with pleasure. You knew that if he slept with you once, he would probably never speak to you again before moving on to the next girl. Somehow, and I still don't understand why, most of my coworkers thought that getting your article on the front page was worth a one night stand with the editor who had a reputation for being such a jerk. Every time new women were hired he would sleep with one then the other. He would go through three a night I'm sure if he had it his way.

I had even heard that he had slept with half the city too. I'm sure if you mentioned his name, Edward Cullen, while walking down the street, every woman would turn their heads to see if he was there. I still don't understand how girls can line up to have sex with him if they know that he's not going to give them a second glance. The only reason I could think of was bragging rights. Maybe they felt like they finally fit in when they had slept with "Edward Cullen". Who knows? One thing I knew for sure was that there was no way in hell I would ever speak to him voluntarily, let alone sleep with him.

As if his reputation wasn't enough to turn me away, his attitude was terrible. There were points during my career when I seriously thought about quitting just because of him. The first time he met me, he took one quick glance at my best work to date, and told me that if I was an example of where journalism was headed in this country, he was moving to Canada. I ran out of the building in tears. I hadn't even lasted two hours of my first day at my new job. I went home that night and cried myself to sleep. I actually prayed that I would come down with a life threatening disease like Ebola so that I wouldn't have to go to work for him again.

He had on multiple occasions told me that my articles were 'the biggest piece of shit he had ever seen.' I had started to build a shield of tolerance around me when I spoke to him. I tuned him out whenever he spoke to me because I knew he would only tell me what a waste of space I was. Honestly, if it hadn't been for Angela, I probably would have quit ages ago. His attitude was awful but he also walked around like he was king of the world. I know that he's editor of the paper, so he had the right to walk around that way, but his ego is the size of the globe. Every day I want to slap him and scream, "YOU'RE NOT GOD YOU IDIOT!!!" He really needs to be told what a pain in the ass he is. If it weren't for the fact that I value my job, I would be the first in line to tell him what's up.

So here I am running a good two hours late to work and life couldn't be any worse. I walked through the busy office and went straight to my desk. I sat down in my creaky, old chair and took a breather. Yes, I was two hours late, but I had made it. The staff meeting was in five minutes so I still had time to collect myself. I decided that it would be a good idea to set up my stuff before the craziness of the staff meeting. I took out my laptop and then all of my papers about my latest assignment. I was supposed to write an in depth critique on why women were so desperate to make it in the work force. I had chosen this project because I was honestly curious myself. I hadn't put much thought towards the matter and this seemed like a great chance.

So I opened my laptop, and before I turned it on, I got a look at the hideous face in the reflection on the blank screen. How could I really look this bad? I mean I know I'm not a supermodel (I'm not fierce like Tyra Banks) but I'm not a pain to look at on normal days. But wow, I guess today was just not my day. Lucky for me I had mascara and eyeliner in my desk drawer for an emergency like this. Don't jump to conclusions and think that I'm one of those girls who carries make up around with them everywhere. I'm not! I just happened to forget my makeup at work one day and I never remember to bring it home, so I just bought new stuff for my apartment.

I started to put my eyeliner on when suddenly I was whipping around in my chair. I just about put my eye out with my eyeliner. I opened my watery eyes to see Angela looking at me with what I call her 'you are so stupid sometimes Bella' look. I knew there was a short speech coming on so I thought I would spare her the work up.

"What did I do wrong this time Angela?"

"Bella, where have you been all morning? You got the top pick for the assignments and you didn't tell me! That is great news! How are you not thrilled about it?"

"Oh, I am excited. I just didn't get the chance to do my glory dance yet. Honestly Angela, I'm not the type of person to go around bragging to everyone about my articles. I'm not Jessica." We both hated Jessica. She was one of the other writers who got hired with us. She had slept with Edward the second day on the job and her first article, which really was a piece of shit, ended up gracing the front page. She went around shoving it in all of our faces the day that newspaper was published. That was annoying in itself, but she never stopped talking period. If she wasn't blabbing about her latest masterpiece, she was gossiping about this guy and that guy and what a bitch that other girl was. She was miss gossip supreme and Angela and I had pretty much had it with her.

"Ha! That's true Bella, you're not. But seriously, what did you pick?"

"Um….some experiment piece about women trying to make it in our economy."

"God Bella, that is so typical of you. The first time you get to choose the first assignment off the list and you pick an experiment? Well, I know you're going to do a great job. You always do. Oh shit, look at the time! We're going to miss the staff meeting! Hurry up let's go. You don't want to give Mr. Cullen any excuse to freak out."

"Angela, you know he's going to tell me what a load of crap I am anyways. But you're right let's go. I guess my hideous face will have to wait."

So that's it so far....please let me know what you think. I feed off of good reviews.

Lemons are definitely in future chapters....i just had to lay the groundwork first.