BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
A hand slapped an alarm clock to the floor, stopping the obscene racket. The resulting debris across the floor told the man's foggy brain that it was time to but a new clock. Damn. He wanted to stay under the covers a few minutes longer. However, that fantasy soon ripped away from his head as he abruptly remembered that Daylight Savings began the day before.
"GODAMMIT!!!"
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Minutes later, the young man tapped on his steering wheel, clearly miffed. It seemed as if everyone forgot to set their clocks back the night before. Now, they were all rushing to work, every birdie flipped and horn blaring. The man sighed. Why? Why must these things happen to him? He really needed a break today. He was supposed to get a new asssignment from the news editor, one he had been promised was interesting, and he was already late!
Well you can certainly kiss that goodbye now, he thought, frustratedly pulling at his crimson locks. Why wouldn't the cars move? He vaguely wondered if God was chuckling right now, amused with the mischevious ways He played with the man's mind. All of a sudden, the cars began to move forward. The young man was about to inch closer to his destination when another car pulled into the gap between the man and the blue car previously in front of him. Mouth agape, he watched as the procession stopped again with the man in the same spot as before. He bit his lip hard to avoid cursing loudly. This would be an extremely long day.
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"Is he here yet?" A puce-faced man greeted the secretary's vision when she looked up. She slowly yawned, then sighed, and finally weighed her words carefully as she chose them.
"Who? Broflovski?"
"Well everyone else is here." The man hissed.
The woman stared into his infuriated, sharp gaze unblinkingly. "Sir, if you haven't seen him, I haven't seen him. But if, by some miraculous chance I see him before you, you'll be the first to know." His eyes flashed and he searched for harsh comebacks. After a moment however, he turned. The man had only taken a few steps before the secretary's voice caused him to pause.
"He's here!"
The man whirled around, looking for the pain named Broflovski. When he saw no one, he gave the woman a quizzical, uncertain glance.
"Sorry, just practicing."
He sneered, walking a bit closer, but then sighed in defeat. "If he isn't here in fifteen minutes, I'm giving the assignment to someone else."
The man stormed into his office, ignoring cries of, "He's here!"
When the echoes of the doorslam subsided, the secretary grinned wickedly at the redheaded man beside her. "Well it appears that he didn't believe me, Kyle. Seems like he doesn't trust me today and I can only imagine why."
Kyle didn't what the exact exchange had been, but knowing the two people involved, he didn't have to think hard to guess. He smiled knowingly. "Are you and Mr. Willis still having problems? Perhaps one of you should call a truce." He looked at her pointedly.
The secretary returned the smile. "Not until he knows how to hols his tongue. He has a problem with taking his anger out on people other than the culprit." She winked and held a finger and held a finger to her lips. "Besides, he has an overgrown elephant trunk!" At that moment, Mr. Willis's office door slammed itself closed. Kyle could only wonder at how long he'd been listening in. But he immediately dropped the thought to tune in on the secretary's continued speech. "I swear, that man is my every dream."
Kyle knew how deep the secretary, Kayla Albright A.K.A. his best friend, had fallen in love with their boss, a thirty-something editor. In fact, the only one in the staff who was still oblivious to her feelings was Mr. Willis himself. (One many occassions, Kyle had the mind to tell him, but in the end Kayla's pleads not to won him over. After all, there could be no relationships inside the newspaper staff.) Kyle also knew that if the two quit bickering long enough, Mr. Willis would notice all of Kayla's good features. Honey-blond hair, violet eyes, pale and flawless skin, not to mention her strange fashion trends and snappish wit. But alas, the editor was as blind as Kenny McCormick (Kyle's other friend) was poor when it came to matters of the heart.
He almost replied when they were interrupted by a teenager-who looked slightly familiar. Kyle noticed the sweaty plams, blood-shot eyes, excessive pimples, and anxious fidgeting and guessed that he was an intern. He wanted to make the teen feel more comfortable, so he offered a warm smile. "Yes?" The teen's cheeks moved to make room for what was probably supposed to be smile, but looked more like an uneasy grimace.
"Mr. Willis wants you in his office. He also says that instead of talking with Miss Albright, perhaps you should be more interested in your assignment. He's starting to wonder if you still want it."
Kyle realized why the boy didn't accept the grin. He must've gotten the brunt of Mr. Willis's rage from the Kyle's tardiness and Kayla's banter. The ginger sighed and gave the woman beside him a slight wave. He turned to the boy, who cringed. "Thanks for reminding me. I honestly don't know what pit of darkness this building would fall into if we didn't have people like you telling us to get off our lazy asses and get something done. You keep this newspaper alive." The teenager gave a small, but geniune smile before departing. Shame, Kyle had almost figured out who the boy had reminded him of. As soon as the boy was out of sight, Kyle's shoulders slumped and he peered at the office door down the hall. He could practically feel the anger and hatred radiating from behind the wood. Should he step inside? After all, he could lose job....
Kyle squared himself. If there was one thing his mother taught him it was to be strong in times in trouble. Keeping a calm face, he entered the only barrier between him and certain doom.
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A/N: Viola! Le premier chapitre. Hehe, a little french for you. Sorry it's so short, but once Eric is in the picture, the chapters should get a bit longer. Au revoir maitenent!
~theflawintheplan