Treacherous •JB•

One; Reunions

Waking up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring is the thing I hate the most. I value my sleep considering how little of it I get but when shit has to get done there's no time to sit around doing nothing.

I shut off the noise machine that I believe had been made by the devil himself and slowly open one eye to look at the big bold red letters. I groan as I realize how early it is and how late I actually went to be last night.

I throw the covers off my restless body and toss my overworked hands onto my face shielding my eyes from the sun streaming in through my window. I puffed out a large heavy breath and got up from my comfortable warm bed going to freshen up.

I reach the bathroom in the middle of the hall and flick on the light. Turning to face myself in the mirror I drink in my appearance. Surprise, Surprise, I look terrible. I don't know what's worse the bags under my eyes or the red splotches all over my face. I sigh and pick up my toothbrush and slap some toothpaste on top and shove the bristles in my mouth.

As I brush, I think about the repetitiveness of work and sleepless nights that has become my life. Moving and starting over has definitely had an impact on my routine. I haven't had time to do much of anything with my constant work schedule.

It's just this week has been extra stressful. I have a paid internship at Louis Vuitton as a designer. My boss is constantly on my back, she pushes me harder than everyone else and I have yet to find out why. Do this, Do that without so much as a complaint. She's always threatening to strip me of my internship and wishes me luck with finding another place that will take me in. People say it's because I have potential but I can't help but think that it's more than that. With my newest project I plan to wow her and prove myself and hopefully become an actual designer at the company.

I love fashion and everything that comes with it. The trends, the statements you can make with your outfits or how you accessorize or even your hair. I love to create new looks and put my on spin of style into the things that I do.

I spit out the remnants of the toothpaste and rinsed out the sink. Taking one last look in the mirror, Blinking, I reopen my eyes and plaster a fake smile on my face seeing if it would be suitable for me to fool people with and get through the day. Raising an eyebrow at myself I shake my head. Who am I kidding? I scoff at my sorry attempt and shut off the light.

People who didn't even know me probably wouldn't even have a hard time guess how I feel or what my mood was like. I'm extremely grumpy when I'm tired and my roommate and best friend Carla hates it as any normal person should. She tries to pump me full of sleeping pills to get me to "Take my ass the fuck to sleep because I'm ruining her good mood with my bitching and complaining."

At least I'm only bitchy when I'm tired. She's not the (extremely optimistic no matter the situation) Caroline Forbes she seems to think she is. She always has something to bitch about. If it were to be anyone to would cry over spilled milk it would be her. Then she would continue to complain about how she just cleaned the counter and mopped the floor and chew you out for making a mess.

Walking into the kitchen I'm surprised to already awake and making breakfast. At this ungodly hour? She rarely cooks, only on occasion so there must be some really good news for her to share. I'm normally the one that cooks and she complains about that too.

"There's not enough salt."

"It's too spicy."

"There's too much salt."

"It's not cooked all the way. What are you trying to do? Poison me?"

Which by the way is a complete lie. I have never and never will not cook something all the way through. She obviously just wants a reason to open her trap and complain about, apparently she's a lot more like me than she thinks she is.