Your Star (Vox x reader)

18

The events of the night before still weighed heavily on my mind, but I chose to ignore them for the time being and prioritize work instead. Facing my problems has always been something I tend to put off as long as possible. Besides, after reassessing things, the word "obsessed" seems like a stretch. The main reason Vox consumes my thoughts is because I've been around him a lot recently, and I can't do much about that, considering I work for him. It doesn't help that I'm so determined to understand his confusingly irritating mood swings. Nevertheless, I would hardly call myself obsessive— not over Vox.

"Y/n, I need you in my office for a minute, darling," Velvette's voice emits from the phone speaker on my desk. 

I reply within an instant, purely out of instinct. "Yes. I'll come there now."

After waiting a few more moments to see if she says anything else, I stand up and head to her office, anticipating what she may inform me. Soon enough, I reach her door. However, before I can knock, the door swings open. I watch as a coworker of mine exits past me, his face ripe with defeat. Hesitantly, my gaze shifts to Velvette, who leans against the desk while holding a paper. She notices me and tosses the paper to the side. "Your coworkers are a bunch of brain-dead morons."

I blink a few times but attempt to resolve her issue. "Anything you need me to handle?"

"Hm." There's a brief pause. "Not now. First, I have something for you." She faces her desk, leaning over to open a drawer and dig inside. It would be far more convenient to walk around the desk, but I'll keep my mouth shut. "Ah, here." A piece of paper is raised in her hand, and she holds it out to me.

I curiously take it from her, studying the document.

"I wrote up a new schedule for you. As I said, you'll be here most days but over with Vox during the others," she explains.

According to the paper, next month will be extremely busy for me. I've dealt with worse though. 

"We'll know exactly where you should be. So, there's no need to sneak around anymore."

I cringe at her comment, though quickly push the thought aside. "Good to know."

"Anyway," she continues. "You busy? I've got a client order for a dress, and I'd like you to come up with the design."

It's been a while since I've last designed anything for Velvette— maybe a month or so— which is odd since that is my purpose of being here at all. Up until now, I completely forgot about designing. "I can do that. Is there a list of requirements?"

She extends an arm across the desk and grabs the paper she had previously tossed, reading off it. "Dark red and mesh. The budget is $2000, so the rest is up to you." She lowers the paper to peer at me through her red eyes. "I need the design by tomorrow."

I nod, already forming a mental image of how I want the dress to look. Being given so much creative liberty sends a flutter of excitement through my body. With a budget so high, there won't be any limitations either. "Alright. I'll be sure to have it done."

Placing the paper down once more, she sits on the edge of her desk. "I originally asked an intern to handle this, but of course, he wasn't up for it. I'm sure you won't disappoint me, though."

She must be referring to the man who left her office just as I came in. "I won't," I reply, despite my growing nerves. No pressure.

"Alright, now run along. Shoo," she motions her hand, waving me off.

At her dismissal, I leave her office and begin walking back to my own with my schedule in hand. I lift it higher, taking another glance at the lengthy list of events planned between Velvette and Vox. It's fair to feel overwhelmed, but it wouldn't be smart to let the feeling linger. I can only push through the strenuous workload and count the days until my contract ends with Vox. Still, deep down I worry about him finding some other loophole that forces me to stay longer. I exhale sharply, deciding I shouldn't think so far ahead and convincing myself that such a loophole is nothing more than a fabrication of my paranoia. After all, he seems to be treating me with more decency than before. He's far from virtuous, but I'd hate to think he'd screw me over a second time.