I'm sorry I've been away for so long… you've probably even forgot my bland story… this chapter's short also.. but I promise to post another one super soon!
For those that are still interested in this little work of mine :P enjoy!
(and thanks to all the reviews, and that super-anon, you guys are what keep me going with this! Thank you so much for the support!)
Andy's life is now divided in two parts.
Before Paris, and after Paris.
She remembered drifting past the rest of the Paris trip, trying very hard to forget.
At one point, she just wanted to bolt out the door and never look back.
But even after everything Miranda had did to her, she couldn't abandon Miranda in Paris. That would be too cruel.
Yet the silence choked her and the air around Miranda suffocated her.
For the duration of the trip, she was disgusted by the woman who so obviously manipulated her and undoubtedly unscathed from the affair. The signature on her resignation letter was shaky, simply because she was crying her heart out. For some fucking god unknown reason, she thought.
It did not make it better that Miranda nonchalantly and even graciously accepted her resignation, and gave her an excellent reference by Miranda Priestly standard. Andy would have preferred it if Miranda only had one persona, the cruel and bitchy editor. But the truth is, as much as she wants to deny it, Miranda Priestly is much more complex than that.
Thinking about such intricacy in character though, only served to hurt Andy even more, so she had hoped Miranda would blacklist her, so she could perhaps convince herself to escape New York. Maybe start anew, somewhere else.
But that did not happen and now she works at the Mirror. The environment was what she imagined she would thrive in: friendly coworkers who did not judge you by what you wear, lax administration, flexible workload with lots of free time and holidays. But Andy was somehow unsatisfied. She attributed such lingering depression to the fling with Miranda, but simply stating a cause for an effect didn't make it much better. Free time seemed less important when you're alone, Andy often thought. Nate barely bothered to 'figure something out' after he moved to Boston. He rarely even called. When Andy tried to get a decent conversation out of his call, he'd say he had to go, and Andy would hear the roaring club music in the background.
Sometimes Andy would routinely check her phone too often. Sometimes people would ask why she frantically picks up with such speediness as if she was scared to miss a call, or let it ring for too long. Sometimes people made snide remarks about how the 'Snow Queen' is bashing a new designer again, and they'd ask how 'Priestly is really like' in person.
Andy thought it was quite like pouring rubbing alcohol on dozens of paper cuts.