Raina knocked on the door to the editing room, her breaths coming in jagged. When she'd said she was going to make her way to the editors and their premium stress levels for inferior pay, she'd thought it was going to a simple venture, like going to the grocery store.
It had been more like a trek to drop a ring in a volcano. Everyone seemed to decide themselves the villains of Raina's story, and put up an obstacle in her path. First, Raina had been commandeered to reorganize the poster boards. Why, exactly, she didn't know. Her outfit didn't exactly scream career in graphic design. If anything, it muttered cash strapped high school student with lofty aspirations.
Raina was all about honesty, after all. Attire was no exception.
The only response to Raina's knock was that the sound of typing accelerated. Dangerously. Raina was seriously worried that the typist's fingers were going to fall off. She knocked again. The same response. After trying the doorknob — locked —Raina went up on her tip toes and peered through the tiny window. She didn't want to knock again and encourage this carpal tunnel in the making.
The room was a mess. A mess mess. Documents littered every surface, along with used coffee cups. The solitary figure at the solitary desk was backlit by an aging lamp. The lamp looked healthier than the person — it, at least, was standing up straight.
Raina sunk back onto her heels, massaged her forehead, and sighed as loudly as she could. It rasped on her sore throat, but she tried not to think about it. The day was nearly over, which she was unmentionably grateful for. There was nothing like stepping out onto the sidewalk outside CatCo with the intention of going home… instead of with the intention of hunting down a horrific coffee combination from an obscure coffee shop that sold sinful looking pastries Raina couldn't afford.
Raina risked one last knock, but the typing speed had hit critical mass, and simply couldn't get any faster. She made a mental note to make a report on the editor's mental health, and shoved herself off the wall to fetch her stuff. It simply wouldn't do to leave the building without her fashionably borrowed bag.
Everyone bustled around, simultaneously ignoring Raina and engulfing her into their folds. It was comforting, in a way. Raina wanted to spend every day of her life like this: one of a many, with a specific purpose and defined worth. Well, not every day, every day. She wanted weekends off and the occasional vacation. But as a career? CatCo was everything she'd dreamed and more. No matter the amount of work it demanded, it had been worth it.
Which was maybe a little romantic when Raina was talking about a job that consisted entirely of fetching coffee, but it was the vibe. And the potential. Raina had taken some editing classes. Raina sort of knew what she was doing. Sort of. Enough, she felt. It was possible her brain was looping into nonsense after how long the day had been. For eight hours, it felt less like a third of the day and more like a third of her life. Raina almost couldn't remember what it was like to be holding something other than coffee.
Raina scooped her bag and jacket from the fishbowl break room, and made a run for it. She was half sure she caught a glimpse of Winn running for the stairs and shouting something about a fire, but nobody else seemed bothered, so she discounted it. Maybe the editor had typed so fast he managed to set his computer on fire. She wouldn't have been surprised.
Raina scooted out onto the sidewalk, and made tracks for St. Edmunds. In between delivering and sighing and organizing, Raina had found time to text Carter. Talking about Supergirl was always a great way to regain the energy spent over a long day. Tragically, she'd had to mute her notifications, which meant that she'd probably get a cascade as soon as she figured out how to fix them.
The bus was quiet, which was both a blessing and a disappointment. Raina's brain needed a little time to chill, but at the same time, since the bus hadn't caught on fire or anything equally dramatic, Supergirl hadn't swooped down to make Raina's dreams come true. Win some, lose some.
Speaking of winning. Winn hadn't texted her back yet. As far as Raina was aware, his job let out about the same time as hers. The farther she got away from the skyscrapers, and the more reception she got, the more worried she got. Surely he was done by now. Raina had some pertinent questions that needed answering about his love life. She was a failure at being a nosy cousin.
Carter was waiting at what they'd dubbed the Cell Reception Park — the CRP, for short. Sometimes Carter thought he was clever and told her that it meant Carter Raina Pals. Raina usually told him that it was a terrible play on the acronym and he needed to chuck a couple of and's in there. This time, she hugged him. Carter patted her back with his entire forearm, like he'd never hugged someone before.
"Dude," Raina mumbled, the words muffled in his coat. He was finally wearing one, like she was able to bother him into it without even being there. "Buddy. My pal. You don't need to pat me."
Carter stopped the strange motions, and settled for squeezing harder. Raina didn't mind. The pressure was comforting. It had been a long, long time since she'd felt this run off her feet. Now that she'd had time to rest her aching muscles, she was twitchy and it felt like all her inner workings were clogged up. "Raina? Are you okay?" He pulled back, his face furrowing so far it was near comical. "Oh no, was my mom mean? Please tell me she wasn't that awful."
Raina's hand went to her face, and she was surprised to find tears leaking from her eyes. She choked on a watery laugh, scrubbed at her eyes. "Oh, it's not that at all. I didn't see her today, but I'm sure she was fabulous." Raina had to stop, and choked on a sob. She ducked her head, still trying futilely to rid herself of tears. It was embarrassing, how powerless she felt. She didn't know why her box had broken down so completely.
Carter fidgeted, his eyes flying this way and that. Eventually, he fixated on the little tree, figuring that for safer than the distraught girl. "What is it, then?" He searched for words, like this was harder even than when Raina had confessed her crush on Supergirl. "Did your aunt do something."
Raina pressed her palms to her eyes, never gladder that she hadn't worn makeup. She'd look like a raccoon if she had. "No. She's probably making me desserts because I brought George over for dinner."
Carter's mouth bobbed, at a loss. "What… what's wrong, then?"
Raina walked to the bench, careful in each of her steps, and then sat down as delicately as possible. Her bones ached with memories. Carter set himself down next to her, though he wasn't as careful with himself as she was. "Have I told you about my parents?"