38: Kitten sweater day

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Kitty sweater day! I was looking fly. I hadn't gotten to wear the clothes I wanted to in a long time. Distracted with being with the family and the interviews about Batman and Superman and going to the Kent farm. Now it was time to be me once again.

So I threw on my brown kitten sweater, some jeans and kitten shoes. My cat ring, and bracelet. A normal ring and choker with classic earrings. To top off the look I grabbed my hedgehog bag and with my messy beach wave hair, I wore diamond kitten ears. I felt beautiful and cute.

"Tadaa!" I said as I jumped into the kitchen showing off my outfit to Clark. He laughed sweetly and offered me a present.

"I got you something." He smiled.

"Aww, thanks." I said and quickly opened the wrapper. "Ooh, a new ! Thanks, Clark." I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I saw it at the airport yesterday and I just had to buy it before we flew back to Metropolis." He said with a smile, sipping his coffee.

"That's sweet Clark. you know I really liked being at the farm. Maybe we can go again?" I suggested.

"Yeah." Clark seemed upset.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No it's just your last week starts today." He said with a defeated sigh.

"Yeah... That's true." I agreed. "But I'll get a real reporter job after. IÍf I get hired..."

"Yeah. A new start for you."

That day we arrived at the office a little too early. "Fay, you look so cute." A woman said to me when Clark and I arrived at our floor.

"Thanks. I feel cute. I love your hair." I smiled at the female co-worker and followed Clark to our desk. "I have to use the bathroom, I'll be right back." I told Clark and left.

"Did you see what she was wearing?" A woman asked another when they entered the bathroom. I could recognize her voice as the one that had called me cute.

I was in a bathroom stall and could see from the crack of the door that they stopped by the sinks to correct their makeup.

"Yeah, who's clothes are those? Her grandmothers?" The other said.

"I have never seen a sweater so ugly!" They laughed.

I could feel my lower lip start trembling as tears sprung to my eyes.

"She wears such ugly clothes at work. Looks like a cat threw up on her."

"No style what so ever."

"Yeah, what does Superman even see in her?" Their voices turned cruel.

"She is so ugly.."

"Can't stand her. Who does she think she is? Just another rich bitch with no talent."

"No talent and in addition that horrid taste. Eww. I almost vomit every time I see her clothes."

Laughing again.

"I hope she chokes on the next sweater she wears." When I heard them leave, heels clicking and the door shutting behind them I quickly left the bathroom.

"Fay are you okay?" Clark asked, quickly standing up when he saw me approaching. Whipping a tear stream off my face I grabbed my bag from the desk.

"I'm fine." I croaked. Still, my eyes burned from the tears and I could already feel the approaching headache from crying.

"No, you aren't." He said getting up and grabbing my wrist before I could leave.

"I just... I just have to go." I sobbed. "I don't belong here."

"No, I... What are you saying? You can't go."

"I have to." I pulled away and dashed to the elevator.

Taking the fastest way to the apartment I went straight to the liquor bar under our apartment. Buying vodka and a shot glass. I wasn't one to drink and really couldn't hold my drink. However the second I got up the stairs I started drinking. A shot after shot until the world was fuzzy.

Trying to get outside I fell down the stairs. Forcing myself to my feet I stumbled to the street and threw up. I don't know what I was thinking. I just kept on walking and ended up at a park nearby. Passing out on a park bench I blacked out.

I went in and out of consciousness.

"She's choking on her vomit!"

"Get her on her side."

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

When I woke up I was in the hospital. Alcohol poisoning. That's what they said.

Worst hangover ever.

And it ended up in the papers. Pictures of me on the bench and being taken to the ambulance spreading through the media like wildfire.

'Another Queen succumbs to alcoholism.'

'Horrible example to the kids.'

'What does Superman have to say about this?'

'Fay Queen vomits on herself.'

I made such a horrible choice and I knew it. Stupid.

When I was released from the hospital I saw Clark in the lobby, pacing.

"Fay." He ran up to me.

"Hi, Clark."

"Are you okay?" He asked, checking me over.

"Yeah... Just exhausted, hungover and embarrassed." I said.

He nodded: "Let's go home."

"Yeah." I held his hand when we exited covering my face with my other hand.

The first thing I did at the apartment was to jump to the bath.

"You cleaned." I commented when I left the bathroom while wrapping a towel around my hair.

"Yeah of course."

"And cooked..." Clark walked over to me with a plate of my favorite food: spaghetti with meatballs. "It smells delicious but I think I might throw up if I eat right now. I'm sorry."

I sat on the sofa while Clark put on my favorite movie: Bridget Jones.

"Come here." He said and wrapped his arms around me.

"I would die without you." I chuckled.

"I think that's true, looking at how often you fall down the stairs." Clark said and worriedly started checking over the bruises that now covered my body from falling down the stairs.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me." I sighed and fell asleep next to him.

Up to Friday, everything went alright. But then... It happened.

I was in the bathroom of the Daily Planet building when I got locked in a stall. "C'mon someone let me out! I'm supposed to get coffee for Clark after this! It's my last day I don't want to screw up." I beated my fist on the stall door until I finally gave up and leaned against the door.

I had left my phone on the desk and now I couldn't ask Clark to come to rescue me.

That's when I saw the smoke seeping in through the crack of the stall door.

Fire.

***

So I posted a new chapter. 2 today.

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