#oc: judy perry

[fatecanberewritten-writer]

Bewitched | Chapter One: Problems

Stars Series | Bewitched

“Grunnings Drills, what can I do for you today?”

She clenched her teeth as she noticed the three men in suits walking through the lobby. One of them, she knew, was her boss. Mr. Taylor was about the strictest it got, and one too many times already in the month she had been working here, he had caught her answering the phone ‘improperly’. She kicked herself now, praying Mr. Taylor was too busy to take notice.

Mr. Taylor, the tallest of the three men, stopped, turning to look at the desk. The other two soon followed. The only ones in the large room, all was quiet aside from the receptionist’s short phone conversation. A rather pudgy man in the back shuffled his feet, looking at the woman in pity. He watched as her eyes froze on them all for a moment, before turning away quickly, her face flushing red.

“That would be Mr. Martin in Accounting, would you like me to transfer you?” From the corner of her eye, she could see him approaching, almost slowly, like a predator hunting its prey. “I’ll transfer you now, have a great day.” Her hands were shaking as she pressed the buttons to transfer the call, then quickly put the phone back to the receiver. Nearly as soon as she did, there was a slapping sound so loud that she jumped and let out a small squeak. She looked over to see Mr. Taylor’s hands flat against her desk, his face and bald head reddening, just slightly, in anger.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Evans,” he said, his northern accent coming out strong. “There is only one way we answer the phone around here. Tell me what it is.”

The pudgy man behind Mr. Taylor frowned, feeling guilty as he looked at the woman’s wide, blue eyes. She hesitated, then closed her eyes for a brief moment, shaking thoughts back into her head. “Grunnings Drills, this is Petunia,” answered the woman in her best customer service voice, despite the nerves that wracked her. 

Mr. Taylor gave her a wicked smile. “Good,” he said, “you’re not completely incompetent.” The silence in the room continued, and as Petunia’s jaw slacked, the pudgy man and his companion shared a look of slight shock themselves. “A pretty face doesn’t get you too far answering phones, Evans, remember that,” he continued, beginning to walk away from her desk. “You’re easy to replace. You should be grateful I even hired you in the first place.” 

Through gritted teeth, Petunia replied, “Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” He returned to the other two men, and, looking down at her desk, she heard them leave. 

Thinking she was alone, Petunia brought her head to her hands, and let out a shaky breath. Nearly every day had been like this one, and she didn’t know how much more of this she could take. She thought of where she might be if she had taken that market job in Southwark, even though she would only be making half of what she was making now. She wondered if it was worth it, if the extra money was worth putting up with this. She wondered if it was worth leaving home at all.

She was startled when she looked up to find the pudgy man who had been with Mr. Taylor approaching her desk. Quickly, she forced a smile. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I wanted to apologize on behalf of Taylor,” he started, taking her off guard. She’d seen him in passing before, and the man had always seemed to be quite fond of her boss, so his actions now confused her. “He’s been like this to every receptionist we’ve hired in the past six months.” The man leaned his arm against Petunia’s desk, and spoke lowly. “You’ve lasted the longest of them all, you know. Longest they’ve lasted before you was two weeks. It’s admirable, really.”

“Maybe it’s not a problem of the receptionists you’ve been hiring, then,” answered Petunia.

The man’s sympathetic face slowly broke into a smile, and the smile spread to Petunia. “You know, I think you might be right. What was your name again?”

“Petunia,” she answered, sitting up a little straighter.

“Well, you might just have solved all our problems, Petunia. I’m Vernon,” He reached his hand over to her, and after looking at it for a moment, she took it.

Despite meeting the first decent person since she had arrived in London, Petunia counted today as yet another loss. Hand held tightly to the metro handle in the center of the train car, she rested her head against her fist, almost finding pleasure as her knuckles pressed into her temple, relieving some of the pressure in her head. She wondered if this was what a migraine felt like - if, maybe, her pain tolerance was higher than her mother’s, and she could simply stand it more than her. She quickly dismissed it. Her mother had a higher tolerance in everything.

She shut her eyes for a moment, but opened them again as she felt the train car slowing. There was a muttering over the com system, but she didn’t need to hear it to know it was her stop. After getting seriously lost the first time she had used the London metro on her own during her first week, Petunia had taken the time to memorize and master the metro system. The last thing she wanted to do was end up on the clear other side of town in the middle of the night again.

Readjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder, Petunia moved toward the doors, exiting with a total of maybe ten people. She paused towards the top of the stairs, sighing at the sound of pouring rain. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky when she had left for work that morning. She straightened her posture, placed her purse over her head, and continued, the clicking of her heels being lost to the rain and traffic.

After half a mile of trotting through the rain, Petunia finally reached her flat. The last block was nearly a sprint up the hill, so her breathing was labored as she closed the door behind her. She turned to find a pair of snobbish looking women, looking at her incredulously. Standing up straighter, she nodded to them, and began to walk past them.

“What, did she go for a swim?” one quietly said to the other, causing the both of them to break out in giggles as they opened their umbrellas and stepped out. Petunia felt her face reddening, and paused for a moment on the stairs. She felt a welling in her chest, and looked up at the ceiling to try to hold back the tears. It was right about now she wished she still believed in a God.

Though she knew it wouldn’t help anything, she slammed her door behind her as she reached her flat. She ripped off her drenched overcoat, threw it onto the floor beside the door, and let it lay in a soaking heap. Soon after, Petunia followed it, her back sliding against the door until she met the cold hardwood floor. 

She didn’t even cry. She just sat there in her loneliness.

“I should just go home,” she whispered to the empty room. It wouldn’t even be that difficult. Nearly everything she owned was still in boxes.

Yet, with a tap on her fourth-story window, she remembered why she couldn’t go home.

[jinxsbombs]

NO WAY THE VA OF ROUGE AND CYBERPUNK LIKED AND REPLIED BACK TO ME TODAY IS A GOOD DAY. 😭🤞🏽