Secret Identity ▶▶A Hunter Hayes Fanfiction◀◀

11

Joslyn’s P.O.V.

My job is so boring. Like, extremely boring. I’m on a phone all day, sitting at a desk, surrounded by people doing the exact same thing as I am. I really wish helping the city out gave me money. If it did, then I wouldn’t have to be here right now. I wouldn’t have to deal with my annoying co-workers. There’s this one that smells like he lives in a port-a-potty, even though I know for a fact that he has a very big house with a large well-trimmed yard. There is this woman who sits all the way on the other side of the room, yet I can always smell her nauseating floral perfume every time I breathe through my nose. Breathing through my mouth is worse, though; I can actually taste the artificial flowers. If you’ve ever eaten a flower, and not the kind that you are supposed to eat, then you know what I mean. Just imagine that flower taste, but artificial.

Yeah, it’s not exactly ideal.

As I’m about to fall asleep at my desk, everyone around me suddenly stands, looking out the large window that stretches over more than half of the west wall. I turn around in my seat and stand too, curious.

A large cloud of smoke is billowing out from a building, flames bursting out of its windows. I don’t understand all of the chaos going around the room until I realize what building is on fire.

The local orphanage.

It’s a small-ish wooden building that is home to seventeen kids, all of them under the age of fifteen. Five of the children are still infants, six of the children are under the age of five, and the rest of them are ranging from eight to fifteen. They take volunteers to work there, and since they don’t have much money to work with, they can’t pay anyone to work there full time. The woman who owns the orphanage, Mary, is a very kind individual. She is a sweet lady in her mid-fifties who lost all three of her children when they were young during a car crash. After that, she built an orphanage. She has such a big heart for kids.

With all my co-workers nervously talking to each other and making calls, I sprint towards the exit. My boss, the one that was my uncle’s friend, stops me mid-step.

“You’re all out of sick days. And family and personal days.”

“I know, I just need to-”

“I’m going to have to fire you eventually. Why not now? If you step out of this building before the work day is over, you’re done,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest challengingly.

I step around him. “Thanks, but I’ve got my priorities straight. I’ll come and clean out my desk tomorrow.” I jog out of the building before sprinting the entire three blocks to get to the burning orphanage. As I run, I rip off my blouse that is over my black hoodie and the coat that was over it. I tear my skirt off too, revealing the black leggings I had underneath and then let my heels fall off as I run. I guess I’ll have to do this barefoot. I slip on my gloves after taking them out of my pockets.

I reach the burning building just after I put up my hood to cover up my identity. A fire truck has just arrived, and I can hear more in the distance. A news van has already parked, too. I don’t hesitate as I jump onto the side of the burning building, somersaulting into the second-story window.

My lungs instantly fill with smoke and my eyes water. I cover my nose and mouth with my hand as I frantically look around.

A scream erupts from my right. I turn and start to run towards it. I check the first door I come to. There’s fire engulfing the entire room, so I move onto the next. When my gloved hand touches the doorknob, it catches fire. I curse as I shake it frantically, flicking it off of my hand. Burns bubble up from my skin. I have to bite down on my lip to keep myself from crying out in pain. An iron taste fills my mouth.