#ugh dammit ambs

[sclfmastery]

So like. Please notice how much the Master already talks and acts like the Doctor, because that’s crucial here. Please notice this has always been true (twink Ten? Twink Simm; Scottish Twelve? Scottish Missy; perky quirky cut-off-trousers manic Thirteen? perky quirky cut-off-trousers manic Dhawan).  But it’s gotten even worse, and Yaz is at the center of that. 

It’s known that the Master wanted Yaz to be involved with him, either romantically or platonically. The script was originally going to push even further that he “wanted Yaz to like him,” according (I think?) to Sacha himself. A lot of people say this is evidence for an ot3, and if that’s what they want to glean, that’s cool. But I genuinely think it goes deeper?

I think that the Master recognizes his constant strategic disadvantage (and a source of his incredible existential suffering) is that he is alone. He has minions, but he has no friends, no companions, no “fam.”

I just saw elsewhere on the dash, a Big Finish audio where one of the Doctor’s other enemies says, “You’d save everyone, wouldn’t you, Doctor? Everyone and anyone.” And I was surprised that wasn’t a Master line, because that’s exactly the bitterness, disdain, and envy he feels here.  That’s exactly why Yaz drove in the knife by saying “the Doctor’s power is she is loved.” After being hijacked, flirted with, begged and threatened by the Master-as-Doctor to just “have fun” with him, the way the Doctor’s companions do, she knows what he wants and cannot have. 

Compounding already profound trauma and mental illness on top of other neurodivergencies, the Master truly believes that he can reclaim his bond with the Doctor by “erasing” her and then coopting her very existence. He can use the very ability that led Tecteun and all of dawning TL society to predate on a small “abandoned” (debatable) child in order to obtain relative immortality. He can reclaim that awful ability from that awful source to become not only the ONLY person he has EVER loved, but also to become a person he objectively KNOWS is “more” happier than he.  He couldn’t wound the Doctor (Simm). He couldn’t play the Doctor (Missy).  He couldn’t die together with the Doctor (Dhawan, third appearance).  So all that was left was to merge with her on the molecular level, and come to terms with his own downward spiral to self-loathing (begun with his Timeless Child revelation).  

Obtaining Yaz’s friendship, having his turn as the one person he could never get (in his mind, at least) to respect, fear, or love him, was the one way he felt he could confirm to himself that he could escape miserable obsolescence.  Because Yaz is the Doctor’s current favorite human, and he clocked that in Spyfall Part 1. Yaz is symbolic of becoming the “so much more” that the Doctor called herself to his face, the last time they met, and she let a virtual stranger--a human--try and kill him.  If Yaz, who is good, who loves the Doctor, can love the Master, that means the Master has regained cosmic significance. 

Yaz is proof that the Master will never know peace until he finds friendship outside of the Doctor and the Doctor’s companions.  That’s why he gets in her face and screams with a rage and a loss of control we’e NEVER seen from ANY other Master, at Yaz, “I AM THE DOCTOR NOW!”, when she won’t accept his new identity.

Leave Earth now, Doctor, or it will be the death of you. Because really, honestly, truly... this is the day you die. No, not just die.

DOCTOR WHO The Power of the Doctor

[happily-lost-in-oc-writing]

Broken constellations, Chapter 3- desperate mistakes

Jessica's POV

"Why." She says, looking at me, with something like desperation,

"Why..?" I glance at her, before realizing what she's asking. .

"Why do you all torment me? What did I do to you to piss you off so bad? This place is hell enough without you- and your- bullshit...." She trails off, looking away.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel and I take a breath in as I park, and I want to tell her that I have a good reason. I want to tell her I'm sorry and I would've never gone along if I knew her but I don't know her and I don't know what to tell her.

"I see." She says, Angry and hurt. I move my hands to say something but nothing comes, and she storms off. I turn off my car and slam my head into the dash, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. DAMMIT!

I get out of the car and go after her, hoping I can compose the words to explain I am a horrible human being who deserves to burn in Hell?!?

I rush in and Amber smiles, pulling me to our group. Rex frowns at me, and Erika smiles falsely.

"You ran off last night-"

"Why don't you shove Erika in it. You didn't mind doing that when I was upset last night." I snap, and Amber frowns.

"Happy V-Day!!!!" Amber smiles, tossing little Valentine's out. I see Quincey Addams passing- she's a cute girl. Nice. She's got bright blue short hair in a curly pixie cut, a pink beanie and a pink hoodie with a jean jacket and skinny jeans with boots. She's carrying a basket of baked goods and smiles at me, I take the chance to ignore Erika and Rex and smile back.

"Happy valentines, Quinn!"

She blinks and smiles really wide,

"You too Jessica!!! And uh," she leans in and whispers, "congrats on Cassie-" she giggles and runs off- I feel myself turn pink before looking at Amber.

"Happy V-day Am." I smile at Amber and notice Cassiopeia arguing with teddy at the vending machine. I pull back until she goes inside and walk in with the group, ignoring Erika and Rex, Amber stands between us to ease the tension. All I can focus on is the situation, and how Cassiopeia was the only person who asked about it. And she had some solid advice. And how I've been nothing but absolutely horrid to her just because I could. I sit down and give her a smile, at some point in that blur of a morning.

Amber and I go to math, and I see Cassiopeia curl over in her seat, conflicted. I want to walk over and tell her it's okay and I'm sorry and that I want to know her, but I find myself lacking the confidence and the words. She hands Amber three sheets of pictures, and I take two, writing down a note.

I need to talk to her.

I might go crazy if I don't.

•T•i•m•e•s•k•i•p•

After school I hurry to my car, Amber following me. Erika starts Getting in and I turn around and glare.

"Don't." I bark, feeling my breath get quicker and angry.

She rolls her eyes and puts her hands up like she's surrendering and strolling away. Amber gets in, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry- you found out like that."

What.

"Excuse me?!? You- you knew?!?!?" I whip around to Amber and feel my heart break a little more.

"I- I've known since last summer... I was gonna tell you- but- you both seemed so happy and I didn't wanna mess anything up." She smiles sadly, and I drive silently.

"Are you- Okay.... Jessie...?" She looks at me, and I keep looking ahead, no Cassie. Dammit. I drive to her house in silence. Teddy lives over here, so does Erika. I pull up to her driveway, and she hugs me.

"I know you're not okay. I should've told you. I just didn't want to lose you guys. You're all I have anymore. You've seen my home. It's a war zone. I don't want you guys to be one too. I love you too much." She leaves that to linger in the air as she leaves the car, and I sit there, feeling my lip tremble and my eyes sting and I sob, my throat burns as I fail to compose myself. Why does it hurt so much?? I knew he didn't care about me but I also thought he loved me. Or maybe I wanted to think that...  I wanted him to be true. I wanted to have it with him. I wanted him. And now I've just got this- this empty pit in my gut that's burning and hurting and I want it to stop and I want the pain to go away, I want it all to stop. I haphazardly drive home, calming my shaking hands just enough to get back, and check the note on the fridge.

I cant breathe, every breath burns going down and rips it's way through my lungs and my stomach is on a tower of terror- it goes up and down and drops over and over again and I can't help but think of how much everything hurts right now. Everything is causing so much pain and I can't even see the damn wound. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. It makes me want to forget the day for at least a minute.

"Went out for the week, Doodlebug. Love you. Be back Friday."

I tear open the liquor cabinet and down the vodka, some tequila, and enough brandy to forget the next twenty four hours. I stuff my face with cold pizza and I sit on the kitchen floor, sick of emotions

"Cassieeeee" I remember I need to talk to Cassie. Yes. I need to do that. I want to talk to her right now. She makes the blurry shit clear. Yes. Rex is a dick and Cassie is warm.

With Rex being a dick, and Erika being a backstabbing bitch, and Amber being an emotional mess, Cassie is clean. Cassie is neat and comforting.

I get up and check the time: woah. It's 12:39 am. I stumble over and knock on the door . I keep knocking until she opens the door tiredly, in shorts and a hoodie that falls over her thighs.

"Jessica... what the fu-"

"Cassie we need to talk!" I hug her and pet her hair, hoping she'll listen. It's soft like it looks and fluffy, and she's warm. She's super warm. I wonder what her hugs feel like. "We need to talk like. I said in the note you read I saw you read it and. I wanna talk to you."

"Dear god you smell like a bar." She takes me up some stairs to her room: it's baby blue and there are fairy lights, a pastel day bed with a princess canopy around it, a white dresser and stuffed animals.

That's when it all got fuzzy.

And I woke up to Cassie's back, her in a bra, and curled up under the covers.

Fuck.

Cassie's POV- 12:39 am last night.

I had just finished watching a movie to get the day off my mind, a long walk home and getting chewed out, all I wanted to do was relax and recharge.

But my life has gone to hell, so you know that didn't happen.

There's banging downstairs on the back door, and i go to tell whoever it is to fuck off, when I see a very intoxicated, very exhausting Jessica "Jessie" Smith.

Joy.

I open the door, very much done with this grade-A, amateur fan fiction type bullshit.

"Jessica.. what the fu-"

She cut me off with incoherent slurs, saying my name and then trailing off. She stumbles into me and starts running her hands in my hair, mumbling "note-talk-we-yes"

"Dear god. You smell like a bar, you need to go home."

"Nn-Nnh!" She Shakes her head no- she probably won't remember half of this when she wakes up. She keeps insisting herself closer to me and I give in, bringing her inside and locking the door again (for safety), I push her up the stairs and to my room. I go to pull the mattress out of the closet when she just flops herself on my bed, I sigh. I'm so done with this,  I swear to god. She's the last person I want in my house, nevertheless my life. I sit down on the side of the bed and put my head in my hands, a headache forming. This- whatever this was, was something I would have to clean up in the morning. I groan and try to lay down, its better than having her drunkly crying or whining or something. I turn on the fan and lay down, taking my hoodie off. I think about the last two days, and part of me is happy I'm not alone.

But most of me wants to kill myself.

Jessica's POV- 5 am.

Cassie starts sitting up, sliding her hoodie on, and she shakes me. I sit there in shock, with a major headache. I can't remember last night. Cassie nudges me again, a little less gently.

"Get up. My dads gonna come here to wake me up soon. You need to be gone."

Shit. That's right, we have school. I sit up and get up, stumbling. She hands me my shoes and ushers me out.

I turn pink, and the thought crosses my mind and I have to know-

"Did we- you know...." I look at her,

"What-?!? No! Jesus, Jessica. Of course not. You came here drunk and crying and refused to leave." She whispers, rolling her eyes and pushing me out the back door.

"Ill.... see you at school...?" I ask, smiling awkwardly.

"Maybe." She says, shutting the door. I stand there for a second before making my way back to my place, shutting the door. I slide down it, and text Amber.

Jessie 🖤: hey Bichhhhhh. Feeling sick. Won't be in today. I love you, Amb. XOXO.

Amber 🤪: Okay, stay safe. I really hope we can work this out, Jessie. I don't want you guys at each other's throats.

I log onto my dads computer and shoot the school and email, before  going back to bed.

Cassie's POV: 6 am.

My dad opens the door, and I groan, curling up. He looks at me, and I frown.

"Dad, I feel sick. Can I stay home today?"

He frowns, and walks over to feel my head. He looks at me for a long time, before nodding yes.

"Cass, I love you. I don't know what's going on in your life- but you know you can talk to me. I'm your dad. I love you kiddo." He Walks out, and I lay back down, curling up and falling asleep. I wake up to a series of texts from teddy.

Teddy: where r you

We need to talk.

R you avoiding me?

Cassie this isn't funny.

We need to talk, Cass.

Are you at home?

I'm gonna drop by.

Answer me, Cassiopeia.

We need to talk about yesterday.

Why r you not answering me?!

Hey.

Ugh. I'm not entertaining him. After what he did yesterday the thought of seeing him makes me sick. Maybe he thought I was making an excuse or trying to get out- which I was, but I'm bisexual with a preference for women, and he needs to respect that.

No means no no matter what.

I go downstairs and see no one else is home, my mom probably went to the store and everyone else is at school, so. I have some much needed alone time.

I scrounge for the cold pizza and blueberry Soda, turn the TV on to the channel playing friends, and sit down with my junk food. After a few episodes, I clean up my plate and I hear a knock at the door. It's probably teddy, and I decide I better answer it than ignore him.

I walk and open it up, seeing the tall blonde with an uncharacteristic solemn look.

"Theodore." I say, closing the door and crossing my arms.

"Cassie. Don't do that. You know I care about you-" I roll my eyes as he talks. "What?"

"You care so much." I look up at him, a bit upset. "That's why you basically told me it was a phase. Really good friend, someone comes out to you and you insist that you can cure their gayness."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You've been leading me on, if anything!"

" leading you on? I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're forcing your emotions on me and you're upset that they're not mutual. I don't want to see you right now Teddy." I turn around and he grabs my wrist. I ball my fist.

"Let go of me right now."

He moves his hands to my waist and pulls me to him, rough. Moving down my hips to-

"No!! Not until you see that-"

I turn around and punch him in the face, ripping my body away from him , I walk inside and lock the doors, I wait until his footsteps retreat and slump down it, feeling... wrong.

I curl up in a ball and cry.

I want my life back.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty, “Defeat”

Hey there, everybody!!!! How has your September been so far?! I hope that school and work and life are all going great for you! I am SO psyched for Niall’s new album, his new song is such a bop! :D Luckily, I’ve had some free time from school lately to write and I made up this little beauty for you guys- haha what am I even saying LOL. On a sidenote, I’m so stoked for all of the new seasons of the shows coming back this Fall! Are there any that you guys are looking forward to? I love too many shows haha, so to name a few I’m super excited for are: Jane the Virgin, Supernatural,Riverdale, The Walking Dead and This Is Us! I’m already loving the new AHS Season, I’m crossing my fingers it won’t disappoint hehe! Thanks SO MUCH for those of you who have stuck around and waitED soooo patiently for new chapters, I know it’s been rough. You have no idea how much you guys mean to me. It kinda has been rough for me too, but I’m SO HAPPY to share this new one with you. Please let me know/message me/comment on your reblog or in the tags what you think, I LOVEEEEEE to hear what you guys think and your comments mean THE WORLD to me! Ok I’ll stop talking now, I hope that you guys enjoy and looooove this chapter! 

Here’s a link if you’re new and want to read from the beginning or freshen up on old chapters! :) 

Whack!

Jumping out of my seat again, I groan and look up to find the culprit. Speak of the devil, would you look at that.

“A simple ‘hello’ would suffice, you know,” I comment, pushing my hair back and glancing to the object he dropped in front of me.

“Well maybe ‘d consider bein’ that nice t’ you if I wasn’t havin’ all these problems with these files,” Harry retorts with a pained sigh, combing his fingers through his messy hair. I’m guessing somebody is getting sick of all of these meetings this week that he for once has to go to.

“What are you talking about?”

Sunday came and went, and before I knew it it was Monday. I spent the next days carrying out the tasks outlined on Harry’s list, as his notable head of hair was absent from the office due to some reason that contained the words ‘meetings’, ‘important’, ‘many’ and ‘yearly’, and without a hint as to when his return will be. I could care less about him returning to the work scene, as I’ve tucked away the happenings of the other night coated with a light haze of alcohol into a corner in my mind. But the tension and discord underneath it all is clear as ever. Too clear.

A cough racks my lungs as dust flies up into the air at me, my hands heavy with files. “Well God, sorry for disturbing your peace,” I mutter under my breath, a sneeze disrupting my vision and work a mere second later. I shift my legs, wincing at the rough carpet digging into my bare knees as I kneel in front of my desk- well in back of it. Dropping the new files I just digged out onto the stack of others, I attempt to shuffle them together into a uniform stack with them all facing the same way after I messed them up digging one out. But apparently that’s just a little too much to ask. Along with some other things.

Smack!

My shoulders jolt along with the rest of my body forward, almost making me smack into the open drawer in front of me spewing dust. “What the f-”

“Hey, ya got dat Woodman file fer me? I need t’ get my mind on somethin’ else,” a voice bites from across my desk, only scaring me more.

“Scare me much?” I retort, organizing the stack some more before giving up and gathering all of the files into my arms. “God, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“Ya got tha file I want or not?” Harry spits at me as I get to my feet and lay my eyes on all of him. Damn. Veiny hand resting on my desk, next to a tall cup of Starbucks. Good God am I glad that I’m (for the most part) past being his food-run bitch. But now that I say that, it’ll probably jinx it and make a dreaded return.

“It’s not done yet. I didn’t think you would be back . . well, for awhile. I’m working on it now.”

“I sent you an email that I wanted it done by dis afternoon,” he replies curtly, tired green eyes pricked with anger. Something I only ever used to see pointed at somebody else. Not at me. And not because of me.

“What email? I didn’t get an email saying that.”

“Well maybe ya should focus on doing yer job, than bloody organizing and dustin’,” Harry returns with a smack of his hand to my desk, making me jump before he whips around with his long curls doing something like a twirl behind him, along with his luxurious coat. A new scarlet one I’ve not seen before. “I want tha file on my desk in half an hour. Don’ you bloody test me, Holte,” he finishes from over his shoulder. But if it seemed like he said it over his shoulder that’s wrong, because you say things over your shoulder when you’re looking back at somebody and he’s not wasting another look at me. Having to look at me for the last half a minute already seemed devastatingly horrific for him.

What a bastard.

+

“Here’s your stupid file. I’m so sorry for the wait,” I say with mock sadness, dropping the perfect looking file the color of his new coat onto his desk, with a good old smack.

A sigh falls from his lips, but I don’t stay to see it. I hear it from over my shoulder as I make my way for his door, but it’s not soon enough.

“Ya betta watch how yer speakin’ t’ me. I don’ allow that kinda shit here,” he shoots at me, making me stop for a millisecond.

I keep going and wrap my fingers around the cool smoothness of the handle, ready to turn it when I hear him clearing his throat. A strong ‘what’ drops from my lips, but I don’t give him the benefit of turning around. “Did ya bloody hear me?” he replies, and I hum a ‘mmmhmm’ in reply. “Is that understood, Holte?” he goes on, his voice thick with annoyance and other negative things that I don’t care to make out.

I deal him another ‘mmmhmm’ before twisting the handle and getting a huge slap in the face. Well, not literally. But the sight in front of my eyes may as well be as bad that. And apparently the monster standing in front of me feels the same as her botoxed face caked in makeup creases in disgust. The feeling’s mutual.

“Oh, hey, Amb,” Harry rasps, a sweet like candy tone adorning his voice as she squeezes in past me managing to ram her shoulder against mine in the process. Yeah right like that was an accident, your tiny ass had plenty of room.

“Hey, baby,” she coos, making my eyes roll into the back of my head as I step through the door and out of their little disgusting bubble, making sure to slam the door a little too hard on my way out. It serves you right.

I may or may not hear a little jab from the other side that is clearly about me from Amber, but it doesn’t get past my walls. Making my way down the hall and back to my desk, my ears prickle with the faint hint of something else.

“Sometimes I dunno why I even keep Holte ‘round, she’s more trouble than what she’s worth,” a deep harsh sigh trickles out from underneath his door, and this time the walls around my heart are like sponge. Keeping some out, and letting others in.

Another jab is felt in my chest at a certain one of his words. More so the one he didn’t say, and what one he said instead. Holte. Not Becks.

+

My eyes drift along the words stamped into the screen of my computer, the words refusing to register with my mind as I deal with the temptation of my eyes rolling back into my head.

“You coming?” a voice jolts me from my daydream or whatever it was, making me jump as I look up to find who the voice belongs to.

Jennings stares back at me before raising his bushy eyebrows at me in a silent question, giving up a moment later as he walks away with his Macbook in hand and frames penned to his coat pocket. A faint ‘yeah’ falls from my lips, although I don’t know why I bother because he can’t hear me. I watch him disappear into a room, giving me my cue to get up and wake up. With a tired sigh, I stand up from my not so comfy chair, closing my laptop and grabbing my trusty pad and pen that longs to be used for the first time in weeks.

Dammit, I wish I had asked for a few more shots of espresso in my coffee this morning.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I step into the bright chatty room full of people in suits staring at their phone or laptop. I stalk off to the very back of the large noisy room where a few other people stand looking just as excited to be here. My legs had just halted when a figure blows past me, almost knocking me into the wall I stand by. My gaze hooks onto him and watches him cross the room to sit down in one of the few remaining wheely chairs surrounding the dark wooden table all of the important people surround. The surprise is little when I register the chocolatey curls and hard set features that rarely budge these days to break a smile.

Harry.

The bright lights flicker off and send us into a thick darkness, one that I welcome so I don’t have to look at him anymore. That smug look painted on his soft face and red rose-

“Alright lot, let’s get this show on the road!” Jennings announces from the other end of the table, stepping up to stand by the first slide the projector shows on the wall. Ugh, yet another meeting with all of the lawyers about this and that.

Clicking my pen on, I hold the pad out in front of me and write down the date, thinking back to the last meeting we had and how mad Harry got at me for not paying enough attention. And so this time in order to avoid his fiery wrath, I blink hard to try and wake up so I can catch every word. Oh this is going to be one long day.

+

The keys click and clack as my fingers dance across them, composing a reply to a client about something or other. My attention is elsewhere, coming up with all of the same old shit that I have to say, but it’s just a different day. My gaze darts across the room, watching people walk back and forth from the print room and pick up a phone here and there with not even a hint of a smile stuck to their lips. Or as my grandma likes to call it ‘people watching,’ which God knows she could do for hours on end just sitting at the shops or at the doctor’s.

“Hey!” a cheery voice interrupts, pulling my attention up and over to find smiley Asher in front of me with his hands stowed away in his pocket.

“Hey yourself. God, way to scare me.”

He laughs, eyes crinkling and dimples showing. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re awake,” he replies, freeing a hand to pluck one of the goofy pencils from the ancient mug on my desk to play with.

“Yeah, that’s debatable,” I reply, plopping my chin into my hand as my attention goes back and forth between him and the email in front of me. Glancing over it one more time, I fix an error or two before clicking Send. “But look at you, you’re certainly all bright eyed and bushy tailed today.”

“Yeah, I try. I mean somebody has got to be happy around here with Ms. Grumps here and Mr. Grumps over there,” he replies, nodding at me and then back at Harry’s office.

“Haha aren’t you funny!”

“I try,” he shrugs, making a smug face before dropping the pencil back into the mug with a soft clink. His head whips to the right suddenly, taking my eyes with him although I wish I hadn’t been so keen to look.

“I’ve already seen her too many times this week, what the hell does she want now?” I groan, hot rage trickling out of the cracks in my walls as I look at her, repeatedly wishing that she wouldn’t come any closer and just get back on that damn elevator.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I hate seeing her, I can only imagine how much more you do. She’s already a bitch to everybody, but she’s especially more bitchy to you which I didn’t know was even possible.”

“Tell me about it. She has some problem with me that I don’t know about,” I reply, lowering my voice towards the end as I look back to my laptop after it dinged, again.

I hear somebody clear their throat, and when I look up I don’t know who did it. If it was Asher, or the blonde dragon standing next to him and glowering at me.

“Is he in his meeting still?” Amber asks hastily, tapping away on her phone with fake Barbie pink nails.

“Yeah, it won’t be done until two,” I reply after bringing up the calendar and glancing at today’s agenda.

She huffs annoyingly, although every single thing she does is annoying. I don’t get how he can handle it. “Fine, tell him I’ll be in his office,” she bites back, still staring at her phone before stalking off to his hallway.

“I do not get what he sees in her,” Ash remarks once she’s out of earshot, as I follow her order and email him to let him know she’s here. “Or frankly, if there is anything to see past all of that makeup and hairspray.”

“Me too,” I comment, watching her hips sway down the hall and around the little corner as the words weigh heavy on my tongue. Gulping, I return to my computer where a bolded email sits in my inbox waiting.

The work never ends.

“So I heard something funny about you the other day.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” I answer, skimming over the email before taking bits out here and there to send to Harry. To see what he thinks. His word is final, Mr. Dictator.

“I heard you and a certain somebody got stuck in an elevator together at the Halloween Party.”

My eyes lift and I give him the dirtiest look I can muster at quarter to 2 in the middle of a Wednesday. His lips explode into a nervous laugh before he throws his hands up and pleads innocent. “What, I’m just saying what I heard!”

With a shake of my head and the slightest hint of a smile sticking to my lips, my fingers flit over the keys once again for the hundredth time today. Closing my laptop, I reach over to pluck the maroon red folder from the edge of my desk.

“What’s that for? Does it have some juicy stuff, like infidelity or murder?”

“No, stop it, you weirdo. I forgot to drop this off to Harry earlier and he’ll be pissed if he doesn’t see it on his desk when that meeting’s over. I’ll be right back.”

“Actually I have to split, too. I just wanted to come say hi and you know, give you shit about the new office rumor,” Asher replies, starting to walk away with that sly grin stuck to his lips. “Good luck with the she-devil in there, try not to get caught in her crosshairs.”

“I’ll try my damndest not to,” I say, waving at him with a small goodbye before we part ways.

With every step towards his office and towards her, my body screams ‘no’. My hand jumps on the bandwagon when I push open his slightly ajar door to find the one and only sat at his desk. God, I don’t know how she gets away with it, I know he hates when people sit in his chair. Only her, of course.

“What do you want?” she bites, looking me over oddly as she taps away on her phone. Perfect legs shown off in a tight gray dress crossed under his desk, my eyes flitting to her plunging neckline that makes me want to vomit along with the harsh whiff of hairspray I get from her long blonde curls. She sees me staring, and it only makes my cheeks hotter.

“Uh nothing, I’m just dropping something off for Harry,” I reply, forcing the words out one by one as they come out sticky. I don’t have to tell her, why does she need to know.

“Whatever,” she puffs, daring a glance at me to show me those beady snake eyes before she flips her hair and looks away as if I’m the last thing she wants to see.

Yeah the feeling’s mutual, I silent yell at her in my head as my feet drag over to his desk to lay the bulky file on the free space of his wooden desk even though my fingers ache to throw it at her and scrape up that perfectly fake face.

If only.

+

Ouch.

Warm red blood oozes quickly out of the invisible cut. Sticking my finger in my mouth, I suck on it with a wince and look back to the words staring at me.

Dear Ms. Holte,

Hello, I am contacting you with the interest of hiring Mr. Styles for …

Blah. Blah. Blah. Casting my eyes away, I pull my finger away and glance at it to see the bleeding is almost gone. This time I slowly and carefully flip the page of the stapled document in front of me, making sure not to give myself another stupid paper cut. As the words sink into the folds and grooves of my mind, my stomach tries to distract me with a grumble, but I ignore it and keep on reading. A string of words cling in my mind. Cheating. What about the kids. Her audacity. 28 years of marriage. With my coworker. Rubbing my temples, my attention pulls away from the thirty-page court document I’ve hardly made a dent in. Why I need to be reading this soap opera shit is beyond me, something about precedence and working with new cases of the same nature or something like that, according to Harry.

Whack!

Jumping out of my seat again, I groan and look up to find the culprit. Speak of the devil, would you look at that.

“A simple ‘hello’ would suffice, you know,” I comment, pushing my hair back and glancing to the object he dropped in front of me.

“Well maybe ‘d consider bein’ that nice t’ you if I wasn’t havin’ all these problems with these files,” Harry retorts with a pained sigh, combing his fingers through his messy hair. I’m guessing somebody is getting sick of all of these meetings this week that he for once has to go to.

“What are you talking about? I’ve been getting the files to you on time.”

“Hardly. You got tha Woodman file t’ me at tha last minute, and now I come back from a meeting t’ see the crime scene photos missin’ from tha O’Pete’s file,” he replies, face creased with annoyance and anger. “Maybe if ya weren’t so busy chattin’ with yer friends you’d be doin’ a betta’ job and wouldn’ have bloody lost ‘em. ‘m sick of havin’ t’ put up with this shit, Holte, I shouldn’ hafta be doin’ yer work for you . . And don’ you bloody expect me t’ go an’ find those photos for you.” his words hit me like a double-edged sword, and I know that he knows that too. It’s what he intended. And what Amber intended when she ratted on me about talking to Asher.

“I had the pictures in there when I dropped the file off in your office, I promise you.”

“Sure ya do,” he responds curtly with ice held in his eyes, but he holds my gaze for a few seconds longer than I thought he would. And he softens. Just a little bit. It makes me wonder if he believes me, or what the hell he’s thinking. No, you can’t pull that card, Harry.

But my wondering changes when I see a flash of blonde and something else entirely behind him, just before a pair of arms go around his middle and some cheesy greeting pricks my ears, making them want to bleed if I have to hear that squeaky voice once more.

“Hey, I was jus’ leavin’,” Harry says, turning around and intertwining his hand with hers, forgetting he was even talking to me a moment ago. I don’t care to listen to the rest of their conversation and her nails-on-chalkboard voice, and so I go back to my emails.

But when I look back and see his rose lips puckering to plant a kiss on her lipsticked lips, I feel my insides wrench and all thoughts of the box of granola bars in my drawer go out the window. My gaze lingers for a second too long allowing me to see her look back at me and wink. A piece clicks, and now I have a ‘duh moment’.

It was her. Amber messed with the file.

+

There’s a long bleeeeeep. Shaking my head, I rub at my eyes and stand up from the wheely chair and the long wooden table. Dragging my feet, I pry open the door and pick up the plate of an ooey gooey cinnamon roll to bring it over to the table. I unlock my phone just as there’s a click and when I look up I find a bright smile. But I find it too hard to return.

“Hey, why the long face, Grumps?” Asher pokes, but when I look back down without a response especially one including a laugh, he hums a ‘heeeeey’.

“Sorry, today’s been too long,” I reply, poking at the soft roll with my fork.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure,” I answer, looking up to find him helping himself to a cinnamon roll at the counter where they sit in a box from the bakery. I don’t even know why I grabbed one, because I can’t stomach the idea of putting it in my mouth and swallowing.

“Hey,” he says, walking over to me and waiting for me to look up. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know . . ,” I say, plopping my chin into my hand and going back to playing with my food.

“You were fine when we talked last, did something happen between then and now?” he questions, waiting for me to answer, but I don’t. And with a sigh he says, “did something happen with Amber?”

I don’t want to and I don’t know how I do, but I nod. And then my lips part and words start pouring out. “I dug up an old case file for Harry for this new case he’s working on. It had a ton of stuff from the trial and prelim stuff- you know the usual. I left it on his desk when Amber was in there, and then he comes to me after his meeting and says the pictures from the file were missing and that I lost them. But I looked over the file before I left the basement, and everything was there, Ash. I saw the photos with my own eyes, and they were there when I put that file on his desk,” I drown on, words coming hot and fast and so does the dryness in my throat that appears out of nowhere. Come on, Becky, don’t cry now. “She took them out and did something with them, knowing that it was my job to get that file to him, and also knowing how pissed he would be that they were missing. Plus she knows full well that he already hates me, so it’s just fuel to the fire … I know it’s a longshot, but that’s the only thing I can think of, and with how much she seems to hate me it makes sense.”

“It’s not a longshot, I believe you … Did you tell any of this to Harry?” he replies, hand resting on the back of my chair as his soft eyes stay on mine.

A shake moves my head, and I tear my gaze away to look back to the roll. “No, he wouldn’t believe me. She’s his perfect little angel. He didn’t even do anything when I told him that one night how she came into his office and started screaming at me, so what would be the point now?” I answer, blinking hard and letting out a heavy sigh that gives the feeling that tears aren’t far behind. Please no.

“Becky, you have to tell him. He can’t just go on thinking that you messed up the file when it was her fault. You shouldn’t take the blame when it isn’t yours.”

“I know and I want to, but he’s back to hating me lately. I-I’m so sick of it, Ash, he treats me like shit and still expects me to answer his every beck and call. He’s so moody, and on top of that, there’s his stupid girlfriend. First, she just about harasses me and now she’s trying to sabotage me or something,” I recount to him, letting my head fall into my hands as hot tears slowly trickle down my cheeks.

“Hey hey, it’s ok. I know it’s a load of shit, but it’ll be ok, Becky… As much as I’d hate it, i-if you’re not happy here then you should find something better, than having to put up with his shit. I’m so sorry, none of this is fair at all.”

“Thanks, Ash,” I reply, voice muffled against my wet arm. I don’t know what else to say. “I don’t know what to do,” I finish, lifting my head and swiping a finger across my cheeks right as the door to the break room opens. Hurriedly wiping the rest of the tears away, I look down and away to cast the attention from me, but when I look back up I know I was too late when I see the look on their face.

“Hey, I uh- there’s sumbody on line three for you. I guess ‘s important,” the slow words fall from his lips that I can’t look at without thinking of them being on hers, and her manicured fingers running through those dark curls and along those tattooed arms.

“Yeah thanks,” I reply quietly, saying a soft goodbye to Asher before dumping my untouched cinnamon roll into the bin on my way out the door. Harry a few steps ahead of me. And my cheeks red as a tomato.

After a little while, it’s evident that he’s slowed down for me and even more so when he comes up behind me as I take a seat back at my desk. But I don’t understand. A nervous ‘hey’ is all that leaves his lips, before I interrupt him and pick up the phone with the usual greeting. I pretend not to see him falter there for a second biting his lip before stuffing his hands away in his pockets and walking off like there was more he wanted to say.

But I’d much rather talk to this stranger on the phone than to him.

+

“Seriously!” I groan through my teeth, itching to pick up my foot and let it swing but I resist. A heavy sigh leaves my lips and I whip around leaving the scene of the crime, or more so the disaster.

With a purpose in my step, I’m on a mission as I nearly stomp through the floor in search of that baby face and those glasses. Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of yellow, and when I look in that direction I come up with nothing. But I’m glad.

“Hey, Matt, just the guy I’m looking for!” I exclaim, painting on a smile.

“Oh hey, Becky. What’s up?” Matt the IT guy replies, stubble evident on his cleft chin as his round cheeks bunch together with a smile. A whisper of chest hair poking out from under his checkered green button down that hugs his round shape.

“The uh printer is messing with me again.”

“I hope you didn’t kick it this time,” he quips and I laugh along with him as I follow him back to the print room.

“No, I resisted,” I reply, going along with his joke as I watch him sign into the little touch screen in charge of the printer.

Minutes pass of staring into the distance as Matt dinks around with the printer, a beep here and a beep there while I stand there awkwardly not knowing what to do. After a couple more minutes, Matt ever so kindly hands me the documents I printed and I’m back to my desk and back to staring at the dwindling list for this week. I feel the plop of my heart plummeting into my stomach when my eyes land on the next task that doesn’t have a check.

- Filing.

No, this can’t be happening, again, I tell myself although I clearly remember the last time I did it and how little I got done. I try my best to resist letting my eyes roll into the back of my head, but it’s hard. It’s a feat in and of itself. I try to recollect my breathing and myself, but it’s hard.

With imaginary weights tied around my ankles with chains, I readjust the heavy crates digging into my arms and I stop in front of his godawful door. With a preparatory breath, I juggle the weight of the full crates onto one arm as I knock on his door with the other one. Bracing myself, I stand there patiently and wait. And wait. With a sigh of relief, I twist the handle to find it open and nothing but air sitting at his desk. YES! Giving the door a little push, I let it close behind me and I walk over to the object of my nightmares. Just about.

I’ve made it halfway through the song list on my phone by the time lunch rolls around, but I haven’t even organized a quarter of these damned things. The rumbles of my stomach threaten to bounce off the walls of Harry’s office, as dark gray clouds move in on the other side of his floor to ceiling windows.

The chorus of a John Mayer song fills the room as I settle another small stack of organized files into the last to the bottom drawer, relieved but wishing it was more and not so little. An excited click! cuts into my jam session as my focus is severed from the new pile I plucked from the crates. I look up and over, fearing the worst and knowing that whatever I get won’t be good and can’t be good.

Harry doesn’t even bother a glance at me as he storms into the room looking to be on a mission himself, booking it over to his closet and that’s when I stop looking.

“Yer tha most jumpiest person ‘ve eva met, ya know that?” he rasps, the clink and clatter of the wooden hangers holding his most prized possessions mixing in with my music much to my dislike. I was hoping I could get in and out of here without having to bump into him.

“Yeah, I’m well aware,” I answer, hearing something in his tone like sarcasm, but I don’t want to mistake it and dig myself even farther than I already am. You can’t play mean one day and then go and play nice another, it doesn’t work like that.

The song ends and switches to another that I cling to as to avoid the awkwardness floating in the room, the voice of Matt Willis from Busted pouring from my phone as I try to focus on the files. But it’s hard as I feel his stare on the back of my neck, for some crazy reason I can’t put a name to.

By the last words of the song he’s gone, but it’s not soon enough. And the whole time he was behind me trying to find whatever jacket or scarf, I didn’t get even one file done. My head too wrapped up in my thoughts about him, thoughts too twisted the song couldn’t even drown out.

+

My hands are itching and my stomach is jumping as the seconds slowly tick away on the screen, and they’re practically ripping open the door when it bleepsssss at the zero. Getting comfy in the wheely chair at the head of the table I’ve claimed as my own, I shovel a spoonful of last night’s leftover lasagna past my lips as Netflix loads on my phone. I do that weird chew-carefully-with-my-mouth-open thing as the hot sauce and noodles try their damndest to burn my tongue. Thumbing a spot of sauce from the corner of my mouth, I tap on the next episode of American Horror Story excitedly and lean back to enjoy my break from my worst nightmare that is filing Harry’s shit built up over the last few years.

The story of the all-girl witch coven went by too fast and so did my leftovers, landing me back in Harry’s office luckily to my lonesome and listening to some random song. My head begins to hurt after looking at all of the tabs the color of the rainbow. With a sigh, I start making piles based on the color of the tabs, and I find out I suddenly hate the color green.

+

The rest of my day looked about the same, and so did the next day. Friday. The last day of this ever so long week. Just one more day, and then I get to have two of them all to myself. Two glorious days away from this place and away from him. And away from her, after being in her line of fire for this past week. First, the file thing and ratting on me about talking to Asher, then little things throughout the week as she made her appearance every day and made my existence more of a living hell. Stopping by my desk to ask for Harry and putting her hand down wrongly on accident and hanging up on the person I was talking to. Bumping into me out of nowhere and making me spill my coffee everywhere including all over myself. 

Slowly, my courage grew as the filing seemed to get a little easier, and before I knew it I was past the halfway mark. And only a few songs left on my phone unlistened to. And my secret box of Cheez-Its giving up on me.

My finger floats across the screen, stabbing my number in before pushing the door open to leave the stuffy breakroom with cutie Evan Peters hot on my mind. With a spring in my step and caffeine once again flowing through my veins, I point my feet back to his hallway as a hum leaves my lips. A phone rings behind me from one of the cubiclers, somebody laughs and my phone dings with a new message. To this day, I still don’t really get what they do. All I can remember from my rushed tour with Harry, is something along the lines of “e’rybody ‘s pretty much assigned t’ their own department, answering calls an’ doin’ shit fer them - whether it be Financial, Real Estate, Immigration, Criminal, Personal Injury, Corporate, Med Malpractice, Family, Contracts, Civil, General or a li’l bit’o all like me.” The new text appears on my screen as I twist the handle to his door, reading the first few words of Skye’s text about going out of town for the weekend with some new guy. My eyes glance over the rest of her words as I walk into his office mindlessly

Thud!

I both feel it and hear it this time. Wondering if I ran into the wall or into one of the many pieces of furniture adorning his office, I lift my head quickly and almost jump. Again. Out of nowhere my heart begins to race, wanting to run me out of here. And I can’t blame it.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” the voice belonging to the body I just ran into barks at me. I mutter a small apology, pressing the lock button on my phone and stowing it away in my back pocket just in time to hear a ‘pft’ come from the other person in the room. The room that was empty the last time I was in here roughly half an hour ago.

“What are you even doing in here anyways?”

“I’m doing filing for Harry,” I reply to her annoyed, wishing to add in a ‘what does it look like I’m doing’, but I save it for good measure. But boy oh boy is the temptation there. “What are you doing here? Harry’s not even here today.”

“What does it matter to you. This is my boyfriend’s office, I can be here whenever I like and whyever I like,” Amber responds, adjusting her bleached curls on the shoulders of her pink peacoat. Yeah okay, I’m pretty sure ‘whyever’ isn’t really a word, but go ahead I guess.

A shallow ‘fine’ jumps from my lips as I walk back to my corner where my work sits. But I have a feeling I’m not going to get a chance to start it again.

“I thought I told you the last time that you’re not allowed in here,” she bites back, words jumping at me like knives with the way that she says them so snarkily.

“Harry said I can be here. I’m doing my job.”

“I said you’re not allowed in here, so um get out!” she exclaims, and all of a sudden I feel a pair of claws dig into my arm. Whipping my head over, I find her hand wrapped around my arm.

“Get your hand off of me,” I snap, eyes knitted together and my mouth hanging open in a large ‘O’. Ripping her hand from my arm, I step away from her still feeling the sting of her nails digging into my skin through my shirt. Wow, somebody needs to request a different style at the nail salon next time.

“Oh I didn’t even touch you,” she argues, twisting her features into a snotty look that looks too similar to her resting face. “Now get out!”

“No! I’m doing what Harry asked, maybe you should get out.”

“You’re unbelievable, I can’t believe Harry’s even kept you around with your backtalk and all of the times he complains about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sacks you sooner or later, he doesn’t even like you anyways,” she retorts with those beady dark eyes pointed at me.

For a moment I let her words get the best of me, I let myself believe what vile things she says about the way Harry feels about me. And it’s a few seconds too long, allowing her claws to meet my chest, taking the fabric of my expensive dress with her as she drags me towards the door. But it’s not so much dragging as it is throwing me onto the ground by the door, making her point loud and clear.

I land hard on my side, and crack my head on the trim on the wall at the base. Wincing hard, I find my bottom lip between my teeth and soon feel a warmth trickle into my mouth along with the unmistakable metallic taste of blood. My own blood. I swipe my thumb along my lip, pulling it away to see the whole pad of my thumb coated in red. It’s far past crying time as I slowly look up at Amber to find her stepping up to me to yank me up by the arms. With my blood seething at her hands being on me and my heart galloping away in my ears, I push at her and away from me. Her hand slips somehow and knocks her back in the face much to my pleasure, but when she straightens in a matter of seconds and looks back at me shocked with a line of red much similar to my own above her lip, I know that wasn’t good. Even though a notch in my forehead throbs with a harsh stinging to it.

“Get out!” she screams at me, pushing me out the door and almost making me fall on my face. Once again. Using my hands like a little kid to get back up on my feet, I stumble down the hallway mindlessly not knowing where I’m going until I feel my feet working against me and back in the direction I came. Why oh why.

Throwing the door open a second after it met its hinges, I stomp back into the room to find her wiping at the small beads of blood collecting above her lip. Yeah you ain’t got nothing on me. “You know, I forgot to ask just now and you know the time before that and before that, what the hell is your problem with me?!” I roar breathlessly, feeling a pain in my chest I wouldn’t be surprised at being a heart attack, or something akin to that.

“Nothing, get out of my face!”

“What, before you fucking assault me again?” I reply, wiping my mouth to find even more blood but it’s no surprise as the taste coats every millimeter of the inside of my mouth.

“Pft, ‘assault you’. Yeah right, I didn’t even touch you. And who would believe you anyways?” she snarls, a nasty smile contorting her impossibly full lips as her snake eyes dig into my skull. Her next words send chilling shivers down my spine, the coldness seeping into my chest and writhing around my heart, “I could just as easily say that you assaulted me.” And with that her long legs start to move towards me, catching me off guard to let her push me into the wall as she leaves the room. Because apparently saying ‘get out of my way’ is too much work. I see somebody has a hard time using her words.

The click clack of her heels on the tile floor drill into my throbbing head, and only when they start to become faint and then disappear altogether do I stumble out of his office and down the hallway mindlessly without an idea as to where to go. If I go onto main and back to my desk, people will notice and stare at the gash spewing blood on my lip. And they’ll stare even harder and maybe even laugh- definitely laugh when they see me sobbing, because I’m hardly out of his hall and I feel my throat starting to dry up like the Egyptian desert.

My legs feel like those Jell-O cups you’re given in the hospital after having a surgery. Wobbly, unpredictable and threatening to cave at any second. I drag my feet to the back of the hall, finding the elevator quickly and glad that for once it opens its doors within a matter of seconds and not minutes. I can’t get off the sketchy thing fast enough, welcoming the musty smell of sawdust that begins to surround me. Stumbling through the piles of sawdust, plastic tarps and pieces of wood, I finally find the bathroom at the other side of the hall, untouched from the sawdust. Slamming the door shut, I twist the lock with a satisfying click and brave myself to touch the lightswitch. But at first I can’t, because I don’t want to see what looks back at me in that mirror. The image of defeat painted all over my face with splashes of red and most likely faint blue, all because of her. My back hits the wooden door and I slide down it into a slump, feeling my chest tighten before unleashing a guttural sob. Sob after sob leaves my lips, tears flowing down my cheeks and mixing with the blood pooling on my bottom lip. My forehead pulsing with a new fervor to it, and my lip hot and prickly with pain.

Bee-o!

I don’t know why I do it or how, but I’m pulling my phone out of my pocket to find a new notification on my screen.

One new email.

I drag my thumb across the screen, opening the notification to find the name attached to the email through blurry eyes. My chest shrinks together and I skid the phone across the floor and away from me, with the name burned into my eyes.

Harry.

Because there’s no coincidence that he just so happened to email me a mere few minutes after his girlfriend just tried to beat me up, and possibly succeeded. My head throbs a little harder at the wonder of what his email has to say, and all of the possibilities it could be. I squeeze my eyes shut tight at the thought of how not one of those possibilities can be good.

She won.