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Olive O'Marley is average. Really and truly, average. She works in an... interesting office job, at WanderLust magazine company. What does she do? She helps the devil's incredibly annoying incarnate, Heather DeLore, write articles for the fashion and design section of this stupid little weekly book. Well, it's more of Heather supervising Olive's writing and telling her to make copies.

This morning was no different from any other, Olive (or Oli, as she preferred to be called) was tearing around her apartment, trying to make toast and brush her teeth all at the same time. As her unfortunate morning routine continued, the paisley-cased iPhone that had been residing on her kitchen table began to violently vibrate. Oli sprinted to the table, wild copper-colored hair flying behind her, and snatched up her cellular device. Olive saw that Casper, her fellow co-worker and platinum-blonde haired friend, was calling her. She groaned and quickly made her way to the bathroom to drop off her toothbrush. Oli hit the small, green circular button to answer his call.

"Yes?" She sighed, now moving her toast to a small turquoise plate and straightening her circular glasses.

"Darren is out sick... and Heather wants you to bring in coffee." Casper explained over the phone. Darren was Heather's assistant, and in charge of bringing in the multiple orders of coffee for Oli's department. You see, one person is selected to be in charge of coffee for each department. So naturally, when Oli was having a stressful morning, Darren the coffee guy was out sick.

"Good joke." Olive sarcastically laughed, clearly unamused.

"...I'm not joking?"

"Y-you're being serious?"


Olive sighed. She was already running late, and now the stress of having to order coffee? This wasn't turning out to be a good day.

"Text me a list of the drinks. You know I can't bother to remember Heather's ungodly long order." Oli chuckled, tearing off a corner of her toast.

"Will do." Casper replied.

Olive then knew he'd hung up by now, so she made her way to her bedroom to change out of a beat-up The Rolling Stones t-shirt and into work-appropriate attire. Today's outfit (which would most likely be criticized by Heather) consisted of an old, white knit sweater, a brown-orange colored pair of jeans and some simple black-and-white checkered vans.

After a few minutes, Oli had whipped herself into shape and was ready to make the detour to a nearby coffee shop. After hurriedly locking her apartment door, Olive sprinted down the four short flights of stairs, and then she was out the door.

Her step was filled with a confident purpose as she walked along the city's sidewalk, her shoes making tiny splashes in the puddles of newly fallen rain. The sun was still rising, it's warm, golden rays causing the skyscrapers above to cast slanted pieces of darkness, resulting in the street being slashed between shadow and sun. Olive absolutely adored when this sort of weather occurred, as it was quite serene. Of course, taxi-cabs streamed down the wide streets, but there weren't as many, as the majority of the population had already made it to their boring nine-to-five day jobs. Every so often there would be the honk of a car's horn, or the tinkling of a cyclist's bell. The little sounds of the city were music to Olive's ears, but she didn't have enough time to enjoy this as she wished. Unfortunately, she had a job to do. Olive sighed and continued walking until she spotted the nearest coffee shop, Bluebird Caffeine & Co. She ducked inside the quaint establishment and hurriedly walked to the counter, only to find that her confident facade was quickly fading.

"I have a massive order... so brace yourselves." Olive said cautiously. The black-haired employee's facial features twisted into a slight grimace as Oli began to read off the thirteen orders that Casper had sent her.

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