Harley
My head was pounding, like a hammer was hitting it with perfect rhythm over and over and over again. The neighbours toddler singing me a symphony of cries and screams.
A rush of memories entered my brain, and I winced at the last few. The first few were pleasurable, the feeling of the first sip of vodka hitting my tongue and laughing at Tylor trying and failing to hit on a bottle girl. Then finally the smell of him filling my nostrils like he never left. His form in ripped jeans and a tight graphic tee, forearms bursting out of the poor shirt. I wished I was trailing my tongue across his sharp jaw.
No, stop.
Then the night turned sour, the text I received on the Uber home had been blanked out by the vodka but now burnt through me,
"You don't even bother anymore Harley." Alex said voice pleading trying to pull me out of my slump single handily. I had stared at my hand then the moon picking at my nails before leaving.
Trying to drag my body out of bed was truly a job rivalling the construction of the pyramids, get up you broke disaster. Hobbling to the bathroom I hadn't noticed that the spot in bed next to me was empty.
After reflection I tried to plan my day. Shower? Optional but needed, job non-existent, motivation MIA.
"What time is it?" I mumbled to myself finally feeling the cool tiles hit my feet turning on the shower on as I passed it towards the sink and staring into the mirror.
Tylor was right I should buy some make up to try and hide the bags under my eyes and the growing frown lines. My brunette hair was matted to my scalp perfectly, but I didn't bother with it yet instead brushing my teeth briskly before jumping into the shower.
The hot water hit my skin warming me from the inside out, lathering some soap onto my luffa it smelt like coconut and synthetic hope, and damn was it cheaper than therapy. Scrubbing off the dried up cum and sweat from dancing all night and the fantastic session following.
Neither me nor Derek liked talking about our now stale as bread sex life that consisted of one-sided blow jobs, to be fair it wasn't my fault he was overly eager, and I was well... not. Back when we first met, he was the only thing beside alcohol that made me feel something, it wasn't earth crushing like when I saw him, but it was bright and sweet. Soft kisses and slow thrusts - comforting, safe.
I dried myself and hopped into some PJ's the joys of unemployment. Grabbing my phone off the floor seeing the night before I had just barely missed my bed side table. I felt my heart drop to my stomach as the screen showed me the horrifying sight of 9AM in all bold.
"I'm late" wait scratch that I've completely missed the first round of interviews. But have I ever been a quitter? Well yes, but not today.
Ripping off my comfortable clothes and internally crying I looted my closet for a unwrinkled shirt and some black dress pants that weren't gin soaked from yesterday.
My hurried movements were effective grabbing my dying phone I rushed downstairs internally grateful Derek wasn't here to scowl at me about last night or today's tardiness.
Getting into my Subaru revving the engine and speeding down to the underground parking of the Feneric Institute.
The skyscraper was really a sight to behold covered in floor length windows showcasing the multiple office cubicles from the outside really made my heart leap with joy and the perspective rat race I was joining, wait not even that. I was just cleaning the rat cages.
Parking my car and into the underground elevator my button mashing began as I double checked that I was heading for the right floor, floor 77. Or was it 7.
Oh well hopefully luck was on my side.
As the doors began to close, I saw a pale hand try to stop the door closing but much to their dismay I kept mashing the buttons till the door closed.
Sorry.
The elevator was spotless with harsh clinical lighting that made my hungover body throb.
Smoothing out my shirt and dress pants I finally got a moment to catch my breath and scroll through missed messages, properly checking my phone.
Alex - We need to talk; can we meet for lunch?
Great! really looking forward to that. The thought of either getting a philosophical lecture or emotionally gutted by pissed Alex started to make me feel queasy.
Looking at the group chat I sent a quick message asking for updates on Isabelle's and Tylor's conquests from last night.
Tylor - I had to break things off with the beautiful Samantha - she can't use chopsticks, what would my ancestors say?
A low chuckle escaped my lips as I wrote a reply,
Me - OMG when did you get standards Ty.
Tylor - What can I say self-respect is my new year's resolution.
Finally, after what felt like decades hovering over the send button staring at Alex's message and the slow movements and the incremental dings of the elevator reminding me, I was running out of time.
I finally decided to respond.
Me - sure my interview should be done by 12 :)
Hopefully that smiley face fixes the mess of last night, oh god am I being more delusion that usual?
Strangely enough the entire ride up no one had entered the elevator and even weirder it hadn't stopped at a single level, well not really my problem. Finally running my hand through my hair once more realizing I needed a trim as my bangs hung slighting past the gold rim of my glasses, the doors of the elevator opened.
Exiting I was immediately met with the sight of a large slab that looked like marble, with warm soft lighting emitting from the bottom giving it the illusion that is was levitating. A large bonsai tree was to its left and behind the slab sat a woman with a slicked back bun, minimal make up and a single pair of gold hoops that matched her sleek appearance.
She looked artificially engineered to be the perfect human whilst I looked like a 2014 Tumblr post someone forgot to delete.
From the middle of the back wall was wooden pillars that reached the ceilings and what sounded like meditation music playing.
I stood there like an idiot for what felt like an hour, after overcoming how out of place I was, I approached the front desk.
"Hi, I'm here for an interview" thank God I was an asshole at heart and my voice was unwavering, if I'm being honest a bit condescending depending on who you asked.
"Name?" the woman I'm guessing of Indian descent looked up at me eyes hooded analysing me from head to toe, she had a name tag that read Rana, of course she had a cool name.
I tried not to roll my eyes.
"Harley Davis." I remember reading a book once about confidence in middle school and this tip had stayed with me like a plague - direct and consistent eye contact.
"What's your reference number" what number? I didn't get one.
"It should be listed" I bluffed.
"There are no reference numbers." she smirks like she enjoys seeing me squirm.
Bitch.
"Regardless you're not on the list." Her tone was flat as she returned my gaze.
Fuck the list.
"Then put me on it." the lights flickered slightly, weird.
However it did make Rana raise her brows, only slightly.
"Mr Cartier will like you, take a seat."
"Cartier sounds like some cologne office drones wear" God can't I just shut it for a moment.
Blinking briefly Rana replies, "He makes it too."
Of course he does. Before I messed up any more, I turned swiftly.
I hoped the fact that she let me stay meant I had some hope in becoming a sanitation officer, God was I hoping for this job now, well it's not like I have many other options.
I took a seat beside the elevator on another slab of rock, what the fuck is up with this prehistoric bland design. I felt like a a sacrifice sitting on an alter ready to be gutted.
The wait was the most gruelling part because I wasn't sure if I was waiting for Rana to kick me out or for the actual interview. Finally, there was some movement besides Rana quietly typing. Intercom static slightly buzzing interrupting the deafening silence. Rana swiftly pressed her ear nodding before replying.
"Yes sir, I'll send him right in.".
"He's ready for you."
Standing I ran my hands over my shirt and tried to swallow down the vomit trying to escape my stomach. Rana gave me what looked like a strained smile, is her face made of plastic?
"Don't embarrass me." she said lowering her gaze.
"Me? Never."
I was getting really good at lying!
With that I walked towards whatever hellish janitor job I'd signed myself up for.