[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/7bkbXx5.png[/img][/center] [center][b]Century City, California[/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/Gg3ivhZ.png[/img][/center] April had never been a morning person. As her alarm blared to alert her that 7 AM had arrived, she groaned and rolled over in her bed. Fumbling with the phone on her nightstand, she eventually found the snooze. With a heavy sigh, she blew the strands of golden blonde hair off her face and somehow summoned the strength to get out of bed. Nearly tripping over furniture on her way to the bathroom, she muttered a curse and silently swore to find a bigger apartment. [color=ADFF2F][i]On an assistant's salary, April?[/i][/color] she chided herself. [color=ADFF2F][i]Not likely.[/i][/color] Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she shuffled forward until her bare feet touched laminate flooring. Twenty minutes later, she emerged, freshly showered and feeling a touch more human. She tiptoed across the apartment to her closet and picked out her outfit: a coral-colored blouse with a white pencil skirt. Once her hair was mostly dry, she gathered it into a bun and stuck it with a hairstick for a style which could pass for passable. Retrieving her phone and glasses from the nightstand, she slipped into a pair of black heels and marched out the door, leaving herself more than enough time to make a stop at the coffee shop on the corner for a fresh cup and a danish. April could've ridden the bus to work, but she actually enjoyed the walk. She had grown up in Edwards Point, a small coastal town up north where everybody knew everybody. By contrast, Century City was this incredible, living tapestry of people! It amazed her that she could walk the same way to work every morning and see new faces each time. And no matter how long she lived in the city, she didn't think she'd ever get over her amazement with the architecture; all these buildings, old and new, each with their own unique flavor, towered over her and gave the impression that the city stretched to the horizon. She longed to explore it all someday. Eventually, the blocky Century City Chronicle headquarters rose up to meet her. April strode into the marble-covered lobby and past the front desk. [color=ADFF2F]"Morning, Stu!"[/color] April said cheerfully towards the building's portly, mustachioed security guard. She continued on to the elevator, pressing the button marked '15.' As the elevator hummed its way to her destination, April began to think that maybe this morning wouldn't turn out so bad. Maybe tomorrow, she'd wake up before her alarm and face the day with a smile! Maybe-- [color=A0522D]"You're late."[/color] Mickey Holtz, chief editor and April's boss, said with a glance towards the elevator as the doors opened. His unexpected presence startled April, and she struggled to stammer a response. As usual, Mickey didn't wait around to hear it; he handed an article back to the layout editor with whom he had been speaking and began marching in the direction of his office. April quickened her pace until she fell into his wake. Finding her voice, she protested, [color=ADFF2F]"I am not--"[/color] His back still turned, Mickey pointed at the clock mounted on a pillar in the center of the Chronicle bullpen. It read three minutes past 8. April's mouth closed, and she adjusted the glasses on her nose. Clearing her throat, she adopted a deferential tone and said, [color=ADFF2F]"Well, I left your schedule on your desk before leaving last night. You have a content meeting at 9, there's that interview for the sports editor position at 11:30, and your mother called. Twice."[/color] [color=A0522D]"Did you take a message?"[/color] Mickey asked. [color=ADFF2F]"Yes--"[/color] [color=A0522D]"Good. Now, tear it up,"[/color] he interjected. By then, they had arrived at his office. For the office of an executive, it was exceptionally cluttered. Mickey was not a well-organized man on his best day, and he had a habit of collecting "mementos" -- which usually meant useless junk for which he held some strange emotional connection. April had, on multiple occasions, offered to tidy up and been threatened on pain of termination not to do so. It looked disorganized to the untrained eye, but Mickey knew exactly where everything was. [color=A0522D]"Before I forget, tell Oberlin I want him covering the Zenith thing tomorrow,"[/color] Mickey added as he crossed the threshold. April's ears perked up at that. Straightening, she replied, [color=ADFF2F]"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."[/color] Gingerly, she followed Mickey into his office. Biting her lip, she continued, [color=ADFF2F]"I was thinking that maybe... I could go instead? I mean, we [i]did[/i] talk about how I wanted to get into writing eventually, and this seems like a pretty low-stakes opportunity to try it..."[/color] The "Zenith thing" in question was a demonstration being held at Zenith Dynamics. They were meant to be showing off some kind of experimental generator, and a limited number of press invites had been sent out. The Chronicle, by virtue of their significance and reputation, had been among the invited. Whenever Zenith did anything, it was news. They were [i]the[/i] cutting-edge, and their advancements in science and technology had been one of the driving factors in Century City's rise over the last ten to fifteen years. Of course, April had an ulterior motive for wanting to attend the demonstration. When she was young, her father was an experimental physicist. Zenith approached him one day and offered him a job working on some hush-hush project of theirs. Within the year, Dr. Henry Newton was dead, the victim of a mysterious "accident" for which details were scarce. April knew that Zenith was covering something up regarding her father's death; she simply never had the opportunity to figure out [i]what[/i]. Well, getting to attend this press event might just give her the start she needed. Unfortunately, Mickey's response was an unceremonious, [color=A0522D]"No."[/color] That was usually enough to stifle any further discussion, but April was too emotionally invested to give up that easy. [color=ADFF2F]"Well, what if I just accompanied Oberlin?"[/color] she offered. It would be much harder to slip away and get some answers with a reporter in tow, but April was confident she could figure something out. Mickey looked up from his desk, exasperated. [color=A0522D]"Is there an echo or something in here? I said no,"[/color] he concluded with dramatic finality. Shuffling some papers around on his desk, he neither noticed nor cared for April's frustrated expression. Sensing her continued presence, however, he added, [color=A0522D]"If that will be all, I [i]do[/i] have a paper to run."[/color] He glanced at her only briefly, though his look conveyed everything which needed to be said about the dismissal. Pouting, April wandered back out into the bullpen. No sooner had she gotten to her desk outside Mickey's office when she felt someone approach. She turned to see Ronald Oberlin, the reporter in question appointed to handle the Zenith story. Oberlin gave her a polite smile and said, "Mickey mentioned that he wanted to see me about something?" [center]-----[/center] [color=ADFF2F]"I am [i]so[/i] going to be fired,"[/color] April groaned before sinking until her forehead touched the table's wooden surface. Across the booth from her, Daisy laughed. They sat together at McCaffrey's, their watering hole of choice. Daisy's father and April's father had been business partners, an inseparable scientific tag-team duo. Consequently, Daisy was the closest thing April had to a sister. Like Henry, Dr. Miller had also perished in the Zenith accident, so April knew that Daisy of all people would understand why she had lied to Oberlin, why she had told him that she was taking lead on the Zenith demonstration tomorrow. Daisy raised her glass, gulping down the rest of her beer. [color=FFF000]"Well, if you end up on the street, you've always got a place with me,"[/color] she offered. That did little to ease April's guilty conscience. [color=ADFF2F]"Let me buy the next round while I'm still gainfully employed,"[/color] she groaned. Slumping out of the booth, she grabbed the two empty glasses on the table and shuffled over to the bar. McCaffrey's was sparsely populated -- one of its best selling points -- and so April saddled up to a barstool while she waited on the bartender. She buried her head in her arms and tried to make sense of her temporary insanity. [color=4682B4]"I recognize that look,"[/color] came a familiar voice. April looked up to see the bartender, Luke, approaching. She quickly brushed the hair from her face to look like less of a hot mess. Luke took the empty glasses from in front of her and walked over to the tap. As he started their refills, he cocked his head in April's direction and said, [color=4682B4]"What's weighing you down?"[/color] [color=ADFF2F]"Oh, you know,"[/color] she began, [color=ADFF2F]"Just going to get fired tomorrow. No biggie."[/color] Luke smirked. [color=4682B4]"If it helps, I could put in a good word for you here, maybe get you a job wiping down tables,"[/color] he joked. That got a laugh out of her. [color=ADFF2F]"Tempting,"[/color] she bandied back. By then, he had returned with fresh beers. April accepted them with a smile, though she didn't get up to go back to her booth right away. [color=ADFF2F]"Well, it's a safe bet you'll be seeing me tomorrow either way,"[/color] she mused. [color=4682B4]"Looking forward to it,"[/color] he answered in a tone which brought a flush to her cheeks. Before she would allow him to see her reddening face, April scooped up the beers and waddled back over to the booth. Daisy, meanwhile, wore an expression not unlike the cat who caught the canary. [color=FFF000]"Are you ever going to ask that boy out?"[/color] she challenged April. Making a face, April tried to laugh off the suggestion. [color=ADFF2F]"What, Luke? No, no... he wouldn't be interested in... I mean, he's just being nice to a regular customer, that's all."[/color] Despite her attempt to sound casual, the fluttering in her chest told a different story. [color=ADFF2F]"Besides, all bartenders flirt. He doesn't mean anything by it."[/color] [color=FFF000]"Honey, there's flirting, and there's [i]flirting[/i],"[/color] Daisy insisted. She took a sip of her beer, then wiped the foam from her lip with the back of her hand. Stealing a glance in the direction of the bar, she smirked and said, [color=FFF000]"See, he's looking over here right now."[/color] April snapped around so fast that she nearly knocked over her glass. However, Luke was neither looking at them nor even facing in their general direction. [color=FFF000]"Gotcha."[/color] April's face turned bright red, and she sank down low enough to hide behind the booth. [color=ADFF2F]"I hate you,"[/color] she muttered.