Who knew

First impressions

The next morning I woke up at 7 am with a strong feeling that I didn't want to get up from my bed. A bright sunlight from the window tried to blind me as I opened my eyes and I burried my head in a pillow with a deep sigh hoping that all of the events of the past day would vanish away and become a dream.

However, as it always happens, it didn't so I groaned, laid on my back and stared at the ceiling. I wished there were some patterns to look at so I could follow them with my glance and distract myself from an obsessive thought to get up. But the ceiling was completely blank and nothing could help. Good morning, I thought.

It never really got me a lot of time to dress up, have a breakfast and be ready for work. Though, that day I was out of place sipping my morning coffee with milk and looking out the window. All my actions were slow and lazy delaying the moment of leaving my apartment even though I knew that I shouldn't have been late. Jeff sent me a text reminding of it and wishing luck. Somehow it made me even more anxious.

I caught a taxi on a way to the studio and regretted it the moment I sat down in a car. The driver turned out to be an easy-going type of guy which didn't suit my moody morning at all. I had no actual desire to start a conversation or what was even worse - to pretend to be his 15-minute buddy as he was asking me questions which ironically already felt like an annoying interview.

Luckily, half the way the driver gave up and I was left all alone with my thoughts staring out the window at the streets we were passing by. I felt nervous even though it wasn't the first time for me to do those type of things. I guess something was in the way all of it happened and the fact that I had no idea what to expect.

The brief research late at night showed me that Marshall Mathers was one of a kind with an insane talent and lots of issues. I had no actual time to dig into it so it wasn't something I had to take to draw a picture. The person behind that magazine cover could be anybody and that thought made me uneasy. Not to mention, that I absolutely hated the fact that I had to go unprepared. It was like leaving your clothes at home and go completely bare which didn't help the situation at all.

'Mrs, here it is' the driver woke up me from my thoughts when the car finally stopped. He gave me a friendly smile and if I'd been a bit less wrapped up in my thoughts I would've answer back. But all I did was handing him the money and getting out of the car. Perhaps, he thought I was rude. And maybe, I really was?

Before entering the studio I stopped near the building to breath some fresh air in my lungs and calm down a little. I was obviously overreacting with the way I was feeling myself because I didn't even know where it came from.

Looking at the parking lot nearby I saw a guy smoking a cigarette and for a minute pictured myself doing it. Just to calm down. He looked all brutal in dark jeans, a cap and what seemed like a baseball jacket with a chain on. However, I couldn't smoke at all and that would look pathetic. The guy obviously knew what he was doing and for a second I envied him. So I looked his way once more and entered the studio hoping that the stranger didn't see me.

'Hello, how can I help you?' the voice of the secretary greeted me in a professional, emotionless way. She was a blonde woman with thin plum colored lips and an attentive stare. The minute I appeared in a hall she started to study me from the head to my toes before I could even reach her. Nice beginning, what can I say?

'Hello, I have a meeting with Paul Rosenberg here at 9 o'clock regarding the deal with the "Wave" magazine' I answered in the most confident way I was able to do and looked straight into secretary's eyes. They were concentrated on my face.

'Yes, I was informed...' she started but was suddenly interrupted by two voices somewhere not far away from us. The sound was growing louder and louder so in a moment we could hear the conversation. The only thing was that it was barely a conversation, more like shouting.