Ok, back to Anne.
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Anne sighed as she stared at her display. She knew that she should be working, but it was so hard to think. Work paled in her thoughts, no matter what she wanted to do it was overshadowed by yesterday's events. Every time she tried to do her job she just wanted to break out into tears.
Even the thought was ludicrous. Her, cry? Yesterday notwithstanding, she wasn't the sort of person to break into tears just because some guy had decided that he didn't like her anymore. Why, when her husband had served her with divorce papers, she had laughed. Laughed, and surprised the people around her with her unforced gaiety.
She blinked hard and sniffed, doing her best to keep the tears that threatened from falling. Of course, she had expected him to divorce her had come to terms with the fact that it was going to happen long before she ever was given the papers. The fact that he had tossed her out the back of that plane had been a clue. When she had finally received the papers, her first feeling had been relief, relief that she no longer had to worry about when it was coming.
She sighed once more, then obsessively searched her memories for clues. Surely some had been there, and she had just been willfully blind, had refused to see. The way that Ace always sat near Knives, the hesitancy that they both showed around her, there was ample evidence if she wanted to look for it.
But she didn't want to look, didn't want to see. She wanted it to not be, wanted Ace to be the cute, quietly adorable girl she had left behind. She wanted Knives to be the man she had waited for, the person who would hold her in his arms and tell her that things would be alright.
She looked up at the ceiling so the tears couldn't fall. Just because no one was going to hold her didn't mean that things wouldn't be ok. She would make it through these days, wiser, older, and still alive. Just like every other time life had sucked. There were no guarantees in life, extra-dimensional beings aside. What was, was, and all the tears in the world wouldn't change it.
Drumming her hands on the edge of her desk, she waited a couple more moments until she was sure that no tears would fall. Then she looked back down and at the clock, then at her still-blank monitor, and decided that even though there were fifteen minutes left in the day, she was leaving.
Since she hadn't packed anything, hadn't thought beyond just getting out of her apartment, she didn't have anything to perform in. She really needed a dress, a nice one, and she hoped that she could get the one she really wanted before the store closed.
She snuck out of the office, hoping that her boss wouldn't notice, and if she did, that someone higher up would cover for her. This didn't really have anything to do with her being a plant, so she thought it was something of a gray area.
Oh well. Worst they could do would be fire her. Or kill her. Or stick her in a room with Knives and Ace and not let her out. She couldn't help it, she sniffed again, but comforted herself with the thought that no one could be that cruel.
She made it out of the plant with no troubles, then set off to one of the nicer sections of town to do her shopping. There was this one consignment shop that had the perfect dress. She hadn't bought it yet because she couldn't justify getting more than a couple dresses to perform in, especially given how few of those gigs paid. But today there was nothing holding her back, nothing to nudge her conscience and tell her that such largess was wrong. It might just be shopping to relieve her bleak mood, but dammit, she was female, and that's what girls do when they're upset.
A brisk fifteen minute walk, and she was getting to the shop as the proprietor was walking to the door to lock it. Anne slipped in with an apologetic smile and went straight for the dress she wanted.
The lady sighed, then took her place behind the counter. "I suppose it would be to much to ask for you to have arrived just a little sooner?" she asked, more jokingly than crossly.
"I had to sneak out of work as it is," Anne offered as her excuse, slipping over $$45. Her eyes didn't leave the dress as the woman slid it into a bag. She loved the deep red of it, loved how wearing it made her feel. It was a dress to be beautiful in, and she truly needed that tonight. She met the woman's eyes and smiled her gratitude, then left the store, holding the bag close to her chest.
It was easy to ignore the pain in her heart while she gloated over her purchase. All day long, she had tormented herself with visions of going to buy the dress and having it be gone, and having to purchase the pale green one instead. Not that there was anything wrong with the green one. She looked good in it, looked nice, and respectable. And dowdy.
But this red dress, even the thought of it made her smile. A red ribbon to wind through her hair and just enough lipstick and eyeshadow for the lights to not wash her face out and she would be set.
Forcefully, she kept her mind on what was coming later that night. A performance was enough to stress over. She hardly needed to keep certain cretins on her mind as well. It wasn't like they were likely to show up, anyway.