One Month Later...
The day started just as normally as any other day did. Madden had hit snooze on her pre-set alarms 4 times, jumped out of bed, hopped into the shower, and picked her outfit for the day, all while trying not to think about the tasks she had ahead of her. Meetings, deadlines, invoices, and Satan's child(ren) awaited her at work, so she got ready with extra care, determined to have a good day and dress so well that Narissa and Nicole could find no flaw in her appearance (as they always seemed to find joy in doing just that). Madden chose her whitest v-neck tee shirt and tucked it into her cutest dark jeans, opting for a dark black blazer made out of a deceitfully soft fabric. She took her time braiding her hair into a halo and accessorized with red heels, red lipstick, and her usual wedding ring necklace, creating the facade of professionalism and sophistication, when in reality, she was incredibly comfortable and poised for any attack her coworkers could throw at her that day. Today she would not be the prey. No, today, she was the predator. (A nice predator, that is, who wore really cool shoes, dropped things a lot, and really liked hugs.)
Madden had even made sure to wake up earlier, giving her an hour until she had to be in the office. She strapped on her watch, grabbed her bag, and entered the elevator with a huge smile, knowing that today Nicole and Narissa were just tiny blips on her radar. The thought filled her with happiness, plus, she had time to grab a muffin. Could this morning get any better? To say the least, Madden was feeling absolutely bubbly.
She hummed her favorite song as she strutted down the street, her bag rising and falling against her waist with each step. Sounds filled her ears, coming from all directions. Sirens, incessant chatter, horns, and the sounds of thousands of feet colliding with the pavement overwhelmed her head, yet she still found some way to daydream, as she always did.
She glided into Café Diem, the café that practically oozed good vibes onto the street that resided right around the corner of Strauss Towers. She had been itching to try it since she she moved in, but had never gotten the chance. Her expression was dreamlike and wistful as she ordered a blueberry muffin and an orange juice while mechanically handing the man a 10 dollar bill and collecting her change. She was thinking about the handsome stranger she held hands with in the rain in her dream the night before and the fact that people who were born blind had never seen the color blue in their lives and how that deeply saddened her, for she quite enjoyed the color blue. (Our heroine's thoughts tend to be quite everywhere.)
She was snapped out of her reverie when she had to find a place to sit. Cupcake-resembling pastry and citrus flavored liquid in her hand, she noticed that the tables were laden with white paper littered with writings of many colors all across them. Red pen, yellow highlighter, and dark black marker drawings jumped out from every direction and she was flooded with the desire to read and discover each word and picture individually. Sadly, her time was limited and she chose a seat on the bar by the window. She looked down at the tablecloth, hoping to see something raw and emotional written on the cloth, but her spot was only covered in profanities and nasty drawings. Madden frowned and picked at her muffin, choosing to look out the window instead, quite disappointed that the writings at her spot weren't deep and thoughtful like she expected.
However, the sights out the window weren't much better. From her spot, she observed a young couple fighting very profusely, a mother on the phone while a crying child pulled her coat, a young girl who dropped the entire contents of her bag, and a tourist who burst into tears when the vendor she was buying from yelled at her. It seemed that no one around her was having a good day. She was so consumed with compassion for each one of the sad people she saw and the vulnerable state she saw them in as she finished her muffin and started to stand up that she didn't regard her half full bottle of orange juice and the fact that the lid wasn't on and the fact that it was about to fall off of the table, being propelled forward by the bag she was dragging off of the counter. By the time she came to her senses, it was too late. The orange juice spilled all over her white shirt, instantly making her feel sticky and look as if someone had thrown up on her chest (and like she had been the one throwing up). She inwardly screeched and searched for something to dry it off with, ending up using a dry crumpled napkin that did absolutely nothing to diffuse the stickiness and barf-esque look. Her heart started racing as she contemplated what to do. She tried to analyze her options:
a) Wear the sticky and barfy shirt to work, get humiliated by Nicole and Narissa, and marinate in adherence the entire day.
b) Go back to Strauss Towers to change, resulting in being late to work, giving Narissa reason to want to fire/kill her on only her second month in the job.
c) Buy something else to wear, which will most likely not be cute, ending in-yet again-utter humiliation at the hands of Nicole and Narissa.
As Madden gazed out the window of the shop, she spotted a tourist trap that sold cheap, ill-fitting "I heart NY" tees. C it was.
Barf clad, Madden grabbed her things and made her way to the stand, laying her hands on the cutest shirt they had, which was plain white and small enough that she could wear it under her blazer and have it possibly be cute. This was the one, the only shirt that wouldn't cause her dignity to crumble. Madden almost automatically scrambled for the price tag and her eyes bulged when she read $26.00 written in bolded black numbers. She sighed, but pulled out her debit card as she walked to the man with the cash box. This was, in fact, the day she was meant to be invincible and positive.
He moodily took the shirt and scanned the tag, grunting the price through his teeth. She handed over her card and patiently waited for him to swipe it. He ran it through the machine once, and it beeped rather loudly and flashed red.
Embarrassed, Madden flushed. "The card is fine, I just checked the balance earlier. Maybe run it again?"
The man rolled his eyes, but swiped it again.
Beep.
Getting nervous, she cleared her throat and assured him it was a fine card as he tried once more.
Beep.
"M'am, this card ain't worth nothin."
What a lovely man, her thoughts sighed. "I just used the card yesterday and checked up on my account earlier this week, I promise this card is perfectly functional."
"Then it's demagnitized. I don't know. NEXT!" he called towards the next person in line, ushering her out of the way.
"Wait! I'll use cash," she blushed and rummaged through her wallet, fishing out a number of bills. As she counted them out, her heart sank to find that she only had eighteen dollars in cash.
The man smirked and moved her along. Feeling thoroughly embarrassed and feeling multiple pairs of eyes burn holes into the back of her head, Madden defeatedly laid the shirt back where she found it and scrambled to find a shirt under eighteen dollars. She didn't even own a credit card.
The problem was that on the streets of New York, NOTHING WAS CHEAP. She searched through the piles of New York paraphernalia until she found a shirt that was on clearance. For good reason.
The shirt was a horrendous shade of brown that resembled literal crap. This was a problem within itself, but the shirt worsened as Madden tried to comprehend what was even on the graphic. It was a ridiculous indian nature shirt, featuring an eagle in flight layered over a cheesy shot of the statue of liberty-not to mention the only size they had was XXL. The shirt was completely absurd and no person in the right mind would buy it.
So naturally, Madden bought it. It was her only choice, as she looked at her watch and saw the minutes ticking dangerously towards 8 o' clock.
She raced back into the bathroom of Café Diem, wadding up her vomity shirt and throwing on the next shirt that wasn't much different and quite resembled vomit itself. Madden groaned as she looked into the mirror and saw the size of the shirt and how it much looked like she was drowning in it. She scrambled through her bag to find a hair tie to tie up the back, and it helped slightly, but now she had a tail at her rear end.
No matter, she thought. Her blazer covered a good bit of it and she had to go, so she slung her bag over her shoulder and practically ran to work, covering her brow in sweat and making her hair loosen.
Defiantly, Madden strutted into the Seventeen office, 2 minutes to spare. For a small moment, she forgot about her appearance, thinking only of her punctual triumph. She remembered, though, when her coworkers studied her with raised eyebrows and sputters of coffee on her way up and past the many cubicles and meeting rooms. She sighed and decided to try and avoid Narissa and Nicole as long as possible as she sat down at her happy little corner of the office and logged into her work email.
That was, of course, when Madden noticed the email from Narissa, requesting her to her office at 8:05. She glanced at her watch and groaned, because there were only 3 minutes until she was subject to complete fashion humiliation. Even worse, the email was sent to Nicole as well.
By 8:05, Madden and Nicole were begrudgingly sat upon the two fluffy poufs placed in front of Narissa's desk. Satanica KNEW they were both sat waiting in front of her, but she was thumping incessantly on her keyboard determinedly not looking at either of them, no doubt sending a hateful message to the assistant who gave her decaf instead of espresso this morning. The assistant came in at 7:55 and was fired by 8. Poor Emily. Madden thought she was very sweet.
Soon, the awkward silence became too much for even Narissa to bear, so she intransigently clicked her mouse and turned towards Madden and Nicole.
She surveyed Madden and provocation flickered through her eyes as she smirked and took in her outfit. Madden's breath hitched in her throat, waiting for the evil lash to come, but she only laughed. It was a high pitched, mocking laugh, and Nicole didn't dare join. It was an independent sort of laugh, indicating she had some sort of twisted motive she was about to spring on our poor protagonist.
"Well, Madden, I was going to let you two sit in on our interview with THE Michele Trivana today, but it looks like you are suited for a different sort of day. Nicole, you may leave. I trust you will love dear Ella, and that you are quite entertained with the sight of your...competition this morning." Narissa sneered, her lips forming a thin smirk as she leaned back in her chair. Madden's stomach dropped at her words, and she couldn't even bring herself to look at Nicole's mocking expression as she exited the office. She had the brewing idea that those were Narissa's intentions initially, to praise Nicole and make sure Madden knew of it, so she tried to keep her emotions level and tried to not feel bad about missing out on the interview. Michele Trivana was a budding actress starring in a handful of insanely popular movies, and Madden loved her.
"Now, I have quite the task for you today. I want you to collect water."
Of course, she had to be vague, to exercise her complete control over Madden, so Madden stayed silent and waited for her to continue. When she wouldn't, she inwardly cringed. "Water?" she repeated, and Narissa smiled as she handled her Kate Spade golden stapler.
"I want you to go to each of our competitor's offices and go to the front desk and ask for a cup of water. Pour it all into a big container and bring it back to me by 2," she instructed cryptically and handed her a small work tablet that had all of their 9 competitor's names and addresses entered.
What in the actual crap.
"Um," Madden cleared her throat and tried to pick the appropriate words, "where did you get this.. idea?"
"Hot yoga. I want to absorb their company's success and project it towards ours. Go away now, and try not to let people see your hideous outfit on the way out. You are a disgrace to this company," Narissa whined and swatted her hand. Madden didn't need telling twice.
To be honest, the request didn't sway her too much. At this point, Madden had fired Narissa's step-brother, painted her demon puppy's nails with the color 'Jamaica Me Crazy', created a science project for Narissa's 7 year old step-daughter, waxed the janitor's unibrow (because it messed with her 'chi'), and bought her as 200$ dollar emu skin phone case. In a way, Madden was relieved it would get her out of the office for a few hours. Plus, she wouldn't really go to every company and get water, she'd just run to the store and buy a huge jug of water and let it sit for awhile to become room temperature. And hey, Madden had a few hours, she could nip back into her apartment and change...
But Madden was wrong.
When Madden began to walk back towards Strauss Towers, a deafening sound erupted from the tablet, causing her to fumble and drop it, earning many stares from the surrounding New Yorkers. Madden prayed to the cell phone gods that it wasn't cracked, but the screen was shattered. Madden's stomach dropped as she picked it up, and to make it even worse, the sound wouldn't stop and she couldn't seem to find a source for it. Madden got out of the way of the travelers as her phone chimed.
"Well, Madden where are you off to? Strauss Towers to change that outfit of yours? I'm having your tablet tracked. Do what I say." Narissa spoke menacingly through the phone and hung up before Madden could say the crap?
By now, Madden was used to the strange requests and twisted remarks, but this was an all time low. Madden knew it was some kind of sick test, but tracking the tablet was just plain evil. She couldn't ditch the tablet, for then Narissa would know she wash't obeying, and she couldn't ditch Narissa's dumb orders either. She had no other choice.
Madden glanced through the spiderweb screen and saw their next competitor, Teen Vogue , wasn't too far from here, but she'd have to turn around. She hitched her bag on her shoulder and turned around to have her hair completely whipped everywhere from the wind and multiple people run into her.
"Some great day," Madden muttered.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
At 5 minutes till two, Madden heaved the jug full of water onto Narissa's desk and collapsed into the chairs in front of her desk. Narissa absentmindedly glanced at the jug and then back at her computer screen.
"I don't like that container. It's blue. I hate blue. Go put it in a clear pitcher."
Madden almost burst into tears. Her feet were absolutely wrecked from walking all over New York in heels, and the wind had flung Madden in every direction so her hair was ratted and matted and almost literally destroyed. Her outfit was hideous and uncomfortable, and ultimately Madden was
d
o
n
e.
But, she forced a smile, stood up, grabbed the jug, and walked across the offices to the break room to change the container before returning it to Narissa, because that's the kind of girl Madden was.
Narissa's smile was malign as she poured the water into her mug and raised it to her tight, red stained lips. She sipped the water and closed her eyes as she swallowed, probably thinking about whatever 'spiritual book' she got the ridiculous idea from and mentally 'absorbing her competitors' success.'
Madden knew it was an absolute load of bull. She had to follow orders though, so she tried to keep the negative thoughts from her mind and not complain. It could be worse. And besides, if she quit now, Narissa would win. Madden couldn't let that happen.
She cleared her throat and straightened up. "Now, Madden, I want you to attend the luncheon Nicole planned for the day. Ask her for details. You may leave."
Madden sighed inwardly and left to find Nicole, who she was now sentenced to spend time with. This "good day" could not get any worse.
The moment Nicole was in sight, Madden opened her mouth to speak, but Nicole-not even looking up from her phone- spoke first, "Parley's Sandwiches. Just around the corner. 3. No, we can't walk together. Everyone will be there, and it will be a good way to meet up with everyone from the company. You look hideous, change. Go away now."
Exasperated, Madden curled her bottom lip over her top and blew, causing her messy bangs to flutter slightly. She checked her watch and saw it was 45 minutes till three. At least she had time to go home and change. And after all, she really wanted to meet all of the workers with REAL jobs, who weren't Provisionals. They all seemed so chic and cool, and she wanted them to like her. She wanted some new friends here. So, Mads took this small victory, and turned to leave the office.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_
By the time she got home, she had only enough time to quickly change out of the horrendous nature shirt and into a more comfortable blue billowy shirt and comfier heels. There wasn't much she could do about her hair except vomit in her mouth a little bit when she looked in the mirror, but at least the nature shirt was history. She planned to burn it in the very near future.
It didn't take long to find Parley's sandwiches. Although it was five minutes till three, no one else from the company could be seen. Madden thought this was quite strange, but managed to snag a perfect table with a view.
For the first fifteen minutes, it wasn't too big of a deal. She observed the people in the restaurant like she always did, and even made up different stories and scenarios for some of them. One young girl was a graphic design major who was stuck in a nasty love triangle, one older man had his job hanging on a thread, and one adolescent boy had a love for Nirvana and a tendency to break the rules. She imagined many lives, and wondered if she was even slightly right in her curiosities.
Eventually, she started to get nervous. The clock passed three and kept inching farther and farther away from it. Madden asked a waiter if she was in the right place. She racked her head to make sure she hadn't mixed up what Nicole said. She spritzed on some perfume. She stirred the straw in her water. Other people even began to take notice of her sitting alone and checking her watch, and she conceded to pull out her phone as if to say, "Oh, I'm not waiting for anyone... I'm managing my social media profiles like a boss. While sitting alone. At this table for 8. Yeah." She texted Nicole for the fifth time, but at 3:45 she got up from her table with a huff and began to walk back to the office.
On her way back, she happened to glance at the stores and restaurants she passed, but when she walked past Rigatoni, the little italian bistro, she was shocked to see Nicole and her other coworkers through the window. They all sat together at a huge table and were in various states of laughter at something someone had said, empty plates sitting in front of all of them. Madden froze and grew hot with anger, storming into the bistro.
Nicole spotted her mid-laugh with her arm on a cute guy next to her, and grinned mischievously. "Madden, so lovely of you to join us. You seem to have missed the food, though. A shame, it was quite delicious."
"You.... I... Parley's.." Madden stammered idiotically, a mixture of anger and embarrassment all flooding into her pink cheeks. A few of the workers chuckled.
"I have no idea what you mean. I remember very clearly telling you where we'd be and what time. I guess you could meet everyone properly now..." she began, but was cut off with almost all the workers standing up and hitching their bags on their shoulders. They each started to leave, saying goodbye to Nicole, some setting a hand on her shoulder and saying it was awesome to meet her and some giggling as if they shared a new joke. Madden stewed. She wanted to be a part of it. She wanted these people to like her, she wanted them on her side.
She wanted to scream and rip Nicole to shreds, to be completely honest.
"Oh well," Nicole shrugged, and once everyone was out of sight, she leaned in and continued, "I hope you had a lovely lunch at Parley's."
With that, Nicole walked out and Madden was left, standing alone at a table she should have been at with her new friends, and felt completely and utterly defeated. That's when the tears started to come.
And that's when it started to rain.
*_*_*_*_*_*
Once the tears started, they didn't stop. There was so much injustice at work, so many people who walked all over her. Her job was a joke. She missed her mom. Her dad. Her dog. She thought moving to New York to work at a magazine would be a dream come true, but now it was starting to seem like the exact opposite. Plus, she didn't get paid enough.
As she walked the long walk back to work, the pouring rain mixed with her salty tears, and she was embarrassedly swiping her cheeks and holding back bigger sobs. She had to get out of the rain. She had to go home.
She had to go home.
At that point, Madden was ready to give up. To pack up and move home and have her mom hug her and tell her it would all be okay. She wanted someone, just someone, to be on her side.
Blaring horns and sirens pulled Madden out of her self pity, and she realized nothing was familiar. The streets seemed darker, more close together, and she knew she must have turned left instead of right and not realized it.
As Madden turned around, trying to take in her surroundings, the heel of her shoe snapped. She cried harder.
Her hair was matted and drenched, she was worn and soaked to the bone, her makeup was running, and she clutched her broken heel in her right hand. At that moment, the entire world seemed to be against her. Faceless and nameless people passed on both sides of her, and she almost laughed thinking that they didn't even notice the sobbing girl they were rubbing shoulders with. As she stood there, crying in the middle of the sidewalk amidst throngs of busy people, she realized she had never felt more alone.
She walked forward a few steps. trying to keep her hair from blowing in the wind while swiping tears and shaking with quiet sobs, but she stumbled into someone and flushed with embarrassment. Based on the size and shape of him, Madden knew it was a man, but was confused when he didn't move.
She looked up and saw a guy around her age wearing a curious face. It wasn't pity. It wasn't compassion. It wasn't even questioning or concerned. He wore the face of a man who completely understood exactly what she was feeling.
Her crying was quieted and her expression soon grew to match his. They looked at each other for a few moments, the rain clouding their vision, until he grabbed her hand. His was warm, and the curve of his hand fit perfectly with hers.
"Let's get you out of this rain."
*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Emma Stone as Madden Grey! :) Picture on the top!