Prologue:
At the end of the corridor, upon reaching the wooden door of her studio, a woman unlocked it, opening it with a click. She flicked the switch by her door frame, and after a pause and a moment of flickering the rooms of her office finally shot into light.
Through her turquoise eyes, noticeably to her, the lifeless, pale blue of her carpet stood out. Of which she'd made such an effort to remove the stains of, not entirely succeeding. As always it looked disgusting in the warm light.
Especially ugly it was with the contrast it had with dark, varnished wood, her own furniture used for her three offices. She could only be grateful it was seen during the night, and not the day when her clients would be around... Though there were the rare cases of them being around at such a time. The surfacing memory of such cases were welcoming. Despite her turned mood.
The woman with neatly pinned-up, pink-coloured hair, and sharp sense of style to boot, noted by her smart, casual clothing, walked into the corridor leading to her office. As she did so, she peered over at the wooden sign holder at the nearby wall.
'A. Highwind' and underneath it, 'Y. Halbhed' nameplates were still locked to the right side, 'Absent', seemingly untouched. She tried not to worsen her mood any more than how it was now, so stopped thinking about one in particular. What she had wondered simply, was if she had enough space for another.
I've got to get my mind in the right head-space.
Task ahead of me is important. Can't rest now.
It was nigh midnight. There was no caffeine in her body, nor available at her kitchen-turned-office. She knew she had to input 'soldier mode', as an old colleague had put it once, just to carry on through the evening, and get such an important task done. It was somewhere around the top of her 'business tasklist', until the urgency of Yuna's situation, and Aranea's further extended leave, in light of her own turmoil, happened. Now she had to do the entire recruiting process within a weekend.
That or lose most of her clientele—more likely, shout at the street below her office for anyone to come aboard and take the damn job, the only requirement being a willingness to lie convincingly to their clients' faces, about their glowing credentials. And then giving them bare minimum pay right after their term, as she otherwise couldn't afford them, nor could she really anyway in such a scenario…
Walking into her kitchen, she sat down on her office chair, and settled herself onto the backrest. She paused whatever she was doing, and instead raised her elbows onto the desk, just to brace her head over it. She took a momentary breath.
More infuriating than the suddenness of such an activity, which wasn't something too much to handle for her, no, was this beast in the back of her mind which she couldn't really handle. Her anger flared up again at the memory.
The sound of his laughter, grating, in the back of her mind. That grin of his, as he told her... sticking to her memory, like tar from a long-begotten cigarette.
That… fucking clown!
No, such a label didn't do justice to the indignation she felt, and that was he.
She imagined herself slicing the air in front of her, with the sharp edges of her case folio—slicing him in two, but more importantly, pushing him away from her baby sister by the winds of her strikes.
She settled herself over her seat again, anchoring herself with an aligned posture, minding not to raise her chest, as she's practiced with a professional.
She tried to settle her nerves, obviously frazzled, and massaged the area between her eyebrows. She took a deep nasal breath. Then she picked up a nearby stress ball, had a squeeze of it, then threw to the side towards the curtain.
Don't think about him.
Get this done, then I can think about everything, and just sleep. I don't care how long it will take me. I'll sleep here, just get this done.
She turned on her computer.
Nothing seemed more depressing to her than going through a two month pile of résumés and cover letters, for her 'volunteer/internship' program. These two months, the very thing had been a battle within regarding her values, unfortunately values of which her business probably stood on. Fairness, equality, etc. She knew she couldn't really keep this new employee of hers. Couldn't afford them at all, to be honest. As much as she tried to convince herself, that she'd find a way otherwise.
And these professionals would spend their time toiling, working for her for free. Though while it was perfectly legal—albeit arbitrarily, and the small bouts of good she was already doing for her clients, and her planned catering of experience for this new recruit, plus her referral; the very fact that she was getting work for free with no path of growth within her biz—wasn't good enough by her standards.
She had left her job advertisement to simmer while she pondered this, and she'd rack up almost a hundred applications in that time, answering a lot of phone calls, and a few visits, ultimately knowing that she may cancel the whole thing once things started to look better within.
But they never did… things just got more and more tits up instead. She knew she needed a new lawyer in the future, especially since it seemed Aranea was on her way out, the bitch, and Yuna would obviously have time off with her newborn baby.
Boy, wouldn't that be nice?
Upon opening up her work email, she noticed something at the very top of her non-priority stack. It was from an unknown sender, with the email subject being: "I'm sorry… but"
Curiosity got the better of her, and she clicked open the email.
"Hey Light ,this is Snow…"
Oh god. She instantly regretted it.
"Look I know why you don't aproove of me being with Serah. I had no idea she was you're sister!"
How did you get my email! She should have stopped reading, then and there.
"That time I met you at the bar, I'm sorry. I know it was me who started it, but don't forget, you kissed me back! ..."
"Burn!" The once shocked pinkette, now was inhibited by pure rage.
Delete!
She aimed at the rubbish bin icon with speed, and missed. But seeing red, she kept on clicking. And clicking.
Delete! Delete! Delete!
Her fingers kept snapping, as the fire inside once blue eyes kept turning. It continued on until she pressed the select all button, followed by the delete all forever, including all attachments, button.
"No!"
"What have I done?" She finally awakened.
In her fury of rage, she had deleted all of her non-essential work emails. That included her entire portfolio of internship applications.
She knew she had made a huge mistake.
Back then, and now.
Once again, the pinkette's hands suspended her forehead, the top tufts of hair touching the cheap computer monitor, its scrolling lights flashing against it.
A bad day for Claire "Lightning" Farron, was a bad day indeed. 'When it rains it pours', was the saying that would always pop up in her mind, when she was having one, and consistently did it ring true throughout the day.
She was normally on top of things, the moment, her behaviour, handling herself well in order to do what was needed to be done. But also normally, did people have certain off-switches in times like these, to avoid and relax as needed. Claire wasn't one of those persons that knew much of this off-switch.
Only when shit hit the fan, and the mess was already made, and it would take more time to clean up that mess than what was left for her in the day, did she concede to fight again tomorrow.
Suddenly, she heard a notification sound coming from her computer monitor. It was another email.
Peering up through her bangs, she read the pop-up information of it, and realised it was actually an application for her internship position. And this late. Without even opening any attachments, she shut off her screen, which subsequently turned off her computer.
"Hope Estheim, was it? Congrats, you got the job."
I'm just going to think about everything tomorrow...
The pinkette, now with disheveled, messy hair, fell her body onto her desk, brushing past the monitor, in a way that would probably do her back in tomorrow. And soon, she succumbed to a soft snooze.