Fifty shades of Phan

Chapter 2

I flicker my eyes open, and wait a few seconds to adjust to the light which is surrounding me.
I fumble my hand around on my bedside table, searching for my glasses, and once I find the familiar shape of my glasses, I slide them onto my face.
Next I return my hand to the table, but this time looking for my phone to turn off the alarm, luckily it doesn't take long to find and I press the screen, cancelling my alarm before climbing out my bed onto the soft fluffy carpet and into the bathroom.
According to the clock on my wall, the time is 7:15am, I watch the second hand revolves round the clock as I brush my teeth thoroughly.

"Good afternoon Mr.Howell" I practice in my bathroom mirror, holding up my hand as if ready to shake his.
I try lots of different approaches to the greet, but one sounded way to sinister, another to much like Count Dracula, and the rest just sounded like a horny teenager who's voice was in the midst of breaking.

Once I had finished in the bathroom, I ventured into the kitchen and poured myself some cereal and topping it with some lacto free milk I quickly consume my breakfast.
Once I've finished my cereals, I take the bowl and put it in the sink ready for me to wash later, and travel back up the stairs to get changed.
I slide my glasses off my face and push in my contact lenses blinking a few times after, then I grab my suit and dress myself till I look as smart as possible.

I grab my keys, phone and wallet and head out to hail a taxi.
I put my hand in the air and a well known black cab pulls over, I bend down so I can see through the passengers window which the driver has rolled down,
"Portland Place please, The BBC" I smile, and the taxi driver just nods as a reply.

I clamber into the back of this taxi, and get comfortable in my seat.
The cab pulls out and re-joins the flow of cars driving around London, and I look out my window at all the commuters heading to their offices, the same blank expression plastered on all their faces,
"You off to work then?" The taxi driver asks, creating small talk between us,
"Yes, I am" I smile, that's one of the things I really like about London's taxi drivers, they always make convocation with you.
"Your heading to the BBC, you must have a pretty good job then" the driver grins, and I nod,
"I'm a reporter, I just go and get the information for the big people" I chuckle, and the driver laughs along with me,
"Well here we are, That'll be £5.00 please" the cabby asks politely,
"It says I owe you £8.45?" I correct him, but the driver just shakes his head,
"You've been good company, I'll let you off a few pounds" the driver smiles, I thank him and hand over a five pound note, before heading into the Glassy looking building that is called the BBC.

I scan my ID card on a wall piece, which opens the door in front of me,
"Good morning" I smile to Becky and Jessica, the two girls on reception who seem to care more about whats in the latest Vogue magazine than keeping their jobs.
"Hey" they grunt in unison, not bothering to look up and see who they're talking too, I sigh and carry on walking down the corridor, I just need to pick up my notebook and then I have to leave to get to Mr.Howell's office.

Once I have collected my stuff I return to Becky and Jessica's desk, where I need them to sign me out so I can leave,
"I need you to sign me out" I ask, and Becky looks up at me,
"Where y-" She starts but Jessica cuts her off,
"Shut up Becky, no ones talking to you!" Jessica scolds in her Essex accent,
"I'm sorry Jessica" Becky apologises, and I can see the tangent this is going off on,
"Can you sign me out please??" I repeat, and Jessica stares at me, hatred building up inside of her.

"Where you going?" She sighs,
"To interview Mr.Howell about his clothes" I answer, and I see Becky and Jessica's eyes light up,
"YOUR GOING TO SEE MR.HOWELL??" They both scream, and I slowly nod,
"Oh my god, he's like in ALL the Vogue magazines, and did you know, he once won the award of hottest lad?" Jessica gasps, and I slowly nod,
"That's kinda why I'm going to interview him" I reply, fully conscious of the fact I'm already getting pressed for time,
"Oh my god, he's like SO FIT!" Becky fangirls and I chuckle nervously,
"Well, I'm going... Bye" I awkwardly depart, heading for the doors In front of me,
"GET ME HIS NUMBER!'" One of the girls shouts after me, and I just roll my eyes as a reply.

I get onto the first bus I see which coincidently takes me to the exact place I want to go, and after five stops, I'm in the heart of rich company territory,
I immediately spot Mr.Howell's building, it's tall and black, with almost a rough matt effect on the outside of the building, even the windows were tinted black,
"Good evening sir, can I please take your name?" A receptionist asks, and I give her my details,
"Thank you sir, if you would care to make yourself a beverage, Mr.Howell is on floor 69" The receptionist informs emotionally,
"Thank you" I smile.

I walk over to a hot drink machine and press the button for tea, and the drink pours out a metal spout into my paper cup.
I put the lid on my cup once the drink had been made, and made my way over to the lift, I pressed the call button with my free hand and waited patiently for the lift to arrive.
When the doors opened, I saw there were already quite a few people packed into the lift, and I had to squeeze myself into the corner, holding my drink in the air,
"What floor?" A voice from the other side of the lift called,
"Sixty nine please!" I reply, my body uncomfortably close to some lady which, unfortunately for me, my elbow is perfect height for her chest, so a lot of awkward 'elbowing' took place in that ride.

"Sorry" I whispered for the 1000th time as, once again, my elbow touched the ladies area. We got to floor 35 and all the people in the lift already poured out, giving me some room to breathe,
The lift traveled up to floor 69 and the doors opened, ahead of me was a long dark corridor with some doors at the end, I slowly walk towards the doors, looking around as I do so, wow this place is amazi-
"INCOMING" I hear a mans voice yell, and the next thing I know is that I have spilt all my tea down my suit, the man carries on running, not bothering to turn round and apologise,
"Thanks..." I mutter, looking down at my now ruined suit, what's Mr.Howell going to think of this now?

I carry on walking till I get some small reception, where a lady is sat with a head piece,
"Mr. Lester?" She enquires,
"Phil" I smile, and the lady nods.
She talks into her headset, I assume to Mr.Howell,
"Yes sir" she smiles, and the receptionists focus returns to me,

"Mr.Howell will see you now"