Reconnected (Sequel to Strong Dislike)

8 Months After

My swivel chair squeaks when I fall into it and the wheels groan as I pull myself closer to my desk. 

"Hey Jeannette, who do we have lined up for tomorrow?" I ask my blonde co-worker, and friend, as I plug my camera into my computer and begin sifting through all the shots I just took of Escape The Fate. 

Jeannette picks up the green clipboard from her desk and taps at it with a pen, as if it were an Ipad or something. 

"Memphis May Fire, Paramore, and Black Veil Brides." My heart skips a beat as she says this before returning to it's normal pattern. 

"Do you mind taking BVB? Jeff and I are swamped with editing and I've got to finish this Mosh Pit survival guide article by tomorrow or my ass is grass." She turns to me, her blue eyes pleading and I immediately feel guilty for ditching out on her. 

"I'm sorry J, but I don't know. I've got this pulsing headache and I think I can feel a migraine coming on. I don't think I'm going to be here tomorrow." I lie and touch my forehead with my hand, as if it really is pounding. 

"You're always sick when Black Veil Brides is here to shoot." She observes and I groan. 

"I know! They're one of my favorite bands too. I'll meet them someday I swear." I smile at her slightly before turning back to my computer and pushing away the guilt of lying to my friend, yet again. 

"On the bright side," Jeannette states, still looking at me. "I get to shoot that gorgeous Andy Biersack." She winks at me and I force out a small laugh. 

_______________________________________________________________

Assuming that I was just going to ditch out on work the next day anyway, I didn't set an alarm before I went to sleep. 

But at exactly 7:07 AM, The Divine Zero blared through my phones speakers, jolting me awake. 

I swipe to answer, not bothering to check the caller ID. 

You would think that I would have learned my lessons from all the previous times I didn't check caller ID, but nope. 

"Ariel?" Came Paul's voice, my boss.

"Oh hey Paul. I'm not feeling to good today so I don't think I'm gonna come in." I say, faking a small cough that actually sounded pretty convincing due to my sleepy state. 

"I don't give two pineapples whether or not you're sick. You get your ass in here by 8:15 sharp. We've got a magazine to put on stands in three days and we're not even halfway done. If you're unlucky enough, I'll have you writing articles by the end of the day." He snaps at me immediately and I groan internally. 

Fuck. 

"But I'm a photographer, not a writer." I argue and I can almost hear his eye roll. 

"Yea well, we're so behind I'm just going to hope you passed 8th grade English." And with that the phone clicks and he hangs up. 

I sigh and fall back into my pillows. I really do have a headache now and of course I'm being forced to go to work. 

I really can't afford to lose the best job I could ask for. 

I scroll through my messages and see one new message from Vic. 

PierceTheVic: Heard he's coming to your work today. Good luck. Love ya. -Vic 

We didn't talk much anymore but I did miss him terribly. We'd seen each other a total of two times since the end of the tour and that was when they came into Alt Press for a shoot.