Romance In A Column

chapter three,

    Eryn Sallow stands on the edge of an abyss, a bottomless descent through immense darkness. Or more often than not, it feels like so.

    Its dampened palms reaching for railings but encountering thin air. It's a weight in her chest that makes heaving breaths, slow inhales and exhales, near impossible. There's tightness in her gut known to be the flight response, a certainty in her mind that it'll dissipate once Eryn steps back—but she can only step forward.

    No matter how deep Eryn digs her heels, how far back she leans her body—trying, and miserably failing, to resist—there's a pressure, firm palms placed squarely on her lower back, pushing her to a seemingly unavoidable downfall.

    Vaguely, Eryn recognizes this to be time. And as it thins, so does the steady safety underneath her feet.

    For the days that followed the acceptance of Alice's proposal, the office worked under a countdown. The persistent scent of anticipation and exhaustion clung to every square meter under Wyetta Jeff's name. And a greater majority of the time, the latter felt as if a product of Eryn, alongside her fellow interns—who were, albeit unsurprisingly, burdened with too many tasks for such a timeframe, a single week due to marketing's decision to release the new section in March's first edition.

    Undoubtedly, the moment the clock marks the both dreadful alike awaited March 1st, Eryn's colleagues will replace every drop of unadulterated stress in their bodies for alcohol. But, truthfully, Eryn will likely not join in the celebrations since it's now that her countdown now begins—with thirty-one days in her calendar until the culmination of her internship.

    And though it wasn't long ago she found herself in a similar stance, Eryn is oblivious on how to approach the dilemma. More so when it's clear she has a completely different set of cards in her hands than last year as an unemployed, recent graduate.

    However, amongst the differences, the tell tale signs remain the same. It's the constant necessity to overthink the situation, plot the next step. The fight response since flight is a discarded option.

    Frustration is a persistent symptome to this. Partly because the only viable option is continuing to deliver whatever Wyetta asks of her to perfection. If the circumstances were different, she'd be submitting her resume to whomever has listings online, but that would require a letter of recommendation from her latest employer. But Wyetta would read a lack of commitment to the magazine, a lack of loyalty between the lines of that request. Jeopardize Eryn's chances at a permanent job in Let's Be Honest.

    And if stress coiling Eryn's muscles on her every waking hour isn't enough, another casualty of the problem she faces is the shortage of care for anything that could be catalogued as a much needed distraction.

    To exemplify, the dates Eryn is yet to schedule with the five—due to her tendency of taking things literally when drunk—guys are on the brink of an impending death.

    Then again, Nina is thoroughly convinced their executions won't take place if she has a say in the matter. Since she first voiced her plan to cancel, the phrase 'drunk actions are sober thoughts' has become a hard place to Eryn's back and Nina a sword to her sister's front.

    Yawning, Eryn rubs her bleary eyes, glancing with longing at the cup emptied hours ago. But there is too much left to do and little before five, that's to say not enough time for a break.

    Usually, she'd work regardless of the hour. Months ago Eryn sedimented into her routine leaving the building nearing nine, a routine she plans to follow today as well. But Wyetta demanded to be provided with an update on the freelance photographer she's intent on hiring for an upcoming project Eryn knows little of, before five.