Addiction in August | Completed

Chapter 8: Progress

Progress

      Monday morning, I button up a dark red shirt that used to be my dad's and loop a belt around my waist. Rachel was kind enough to lend me one, and I didn't have any formal clothes, so this shirt will have to do. I have heels at least, but they're boots. I doubt Rachel and I have the same shoe size so I'd have to make them work. After shrugging into my coat, I check the time and hear the rain pattering harder against the window.

I'm a little tired since yesterday, I spent the whole day designing some shit piece of art for Rachel. I hated it and I knew her bosses would hate it, but it would just have to do. It isn't like I had time to do anything else. The only thing that makes me feel a bit better is that they've rejected a ton of designs for the magazine. Rachel showed me them, too and they were amazing. The name of her magazine is called 'Muse,' and it's evidently a well-known fashion magazine, so I just tried to play off of that. Poorly.

Shoving my laptop into my backpack, I put it on and shrug into my coat overtop of it. Zipping it up, I grab my umbrella and a beanie before darting out of the apartment. Rachel left way earlier since she had actual work to do. My 'pitch' is at ten and I really am going to be late if I didn't catch the bus that's supposed to be outside... right now, in fact.

I bolt out of the building and pass Jay, who jumps back from the door in bewilderment.

"Oh, hey, Auggie!" Jay calls. "Oh! Good luck on your pitch!"

"Thanks!" I shout, running across the slick pavement toward the bus stop where the bus is stopped.

I know Charlie will wait for me, but I don't feel like making everyone on board hate me. Thunder rolls overhead and water falls heavily on top of my head. I probably should've opened my umbrella, but I clearly didn't think about it. When I reach the bus, I slide and my hands slap the side of the bus. Thankfully, I don't fall. Quickly climbing the stairs, I smile at Charlie who looks at me piteously. My stress is probably written all over my face.

I make my way down the aisle and sit down in the back with a heavy sigh. Nobody really looks at me, except for a woman who looks amused. She probably saw me run into the bus. I quickly unzip my coat so I don't overheat or anything, and take my beanie off of my head. Fixing my hair, I check my phone with my other hand so I don't miss any messages.

"Hey," I hear beside me, suddenly.

Chills erupt down my spine and I look up to see Max seated beside me across the aisle. I have no idea when he got there, or why I didn't hear him approach, but I offer him a small smile. He glances down at my legs, which are totally bare since I'm just wearing a 'dress,' then returns my smile.

He's wearing a beanie over his hair and looks layered up with hoodies and coats, his hands embedded into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes are expectant, probably wanting me to reply instead of just gawking at him like I'm noticing I have a habit of doing.

"Oh, hey," I say, breathing out a laugh. "Sorry, I didn't notice you get on."

"It's fine, I figured. Where are you headed?" He asks.

"I've got a... pitch, I guess? My new roommate asked me to design something for her magazine, so..."

"Design something?"

"I'm an artist on the side," I say, shrugging as nonchalantly as I can manage.

"Oh, that's cool... Can I see what you made?"

Can he see...? He wants to see what I designed? My brain momentarily shuts down as I press my lips together in thought. What baffles me the most is the genuine interest coating his tongue.