The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.

~John Keats

"I'm very sorry. You know I'd let you stay if I could..."

Irene didn't bother to hear him finish. Turning on her heel, she walked away briskly, not stopping till she reached the elevator. The sound of her stilettos clacking against the tile floor of the office building drew attention to her, but that wasn't why people were staring. They had seen this coming for months. They wondered if the rumors were true about their boss and his petite brunette temp named Irene.

Once she reached the elevator, Irene sighed. Alone at last. She put her head in hands, wanting to weep. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Oh why did she have to be such a flirt?

At first, it was just to get hired. After all, as a 5.4 brunette with slender figure she had the look most male bosses wanted. So she would flirt, nothing more. Smile at him, comment on his tie, twist her long curly chocolate-colored hair around her finger. He would return her flirting and it become the fun dance of her job. But then, the gossip began. First they would say she was dating her boss, then snogging him, giving him oral under the desk. The horrendous things they would come up with! Sooner or later, some higher ups (or in some cases, his wife) would find out, and her boss would kick her out as soon as he could to cover his butt.

Why did she even bother to continue this cycle? She was far too clever for this, too clever to continue this act. Soon she would have another office job, and she'd mind her business. She'd do her work quietly and studiously, maybe even make some friends. She laughed at the thought. If not for jealousy of her looks, it was her intellect that made other women avoid her like the plague.

Irene walked out of the office building right onto the streets of the city. London. The city that took and took, but never gave. This city had taken her chance at a degree at a good school, her chances at several good jobs, and spoiled her perspective on men beyond repair.

Irene soon arrived at her apartment, only a short walk from her workplace, which had been her reason for choosing it. No reason now. She walked up the dark filthy stairway, blue paint chipping from the rails. Seeing her door in the distance, she noticed a note taped to it labeled "Final Notice."

Irene sighed. She had known from the moment she moved in that she couldn't afford this place, but the job seemed so great at first. It was in a posh part of town, and surely she'd be promoted within a few months. Now she found herself with no job, falling further in debt.

Finding another job won't be that hard. Finding another apartment...bloody hell...

She checked the listings, hoping something in her meager price range would pop out that wasn't so far out of the city. Suddenly, an ad caught her eye...

"2 room flat, shared kitchen. Neighbors are quiet and keep to themselves. Completely re-done, looking to rent out immediately. Contact: Mrs. Hudson"

Irene eyed the price. Eyebrows raised, she re-read the post. It almost seemed too good to be true. There had to be some sort of catch...

To everyone reading this story, you all are amazing. Review if you want, I'd love to hear some feedback!