Reporter Serket

"Give me a 8r8k."

    "'Reporter Serket, reporting for duty!'" She recited line over and over in the back of her mind. No matter how many times she went over the line...it just didn't sound right to her. She was the fresh new rookie report for the local paper. The name was Aranea Serket, and with her sweet British accent. Most could tell she was an innocent foreigner, looking for that golden opportunity. An opportunity this country seem to promise everyone, never fulfills said promise. A rookie and she was already looking for her big break. rookie move right there.

    She sat in at one of the dinners in town. She only order a coffee to keep her awake, she writes away in her notepad. She tapped her pencil at a consent rhythm as she rethinks her lines. She sat alone, at her table. The she so happens to be near the window. She watched the rain drops race to the finish line, as she secretly puts all her money on the smallest rain drop out the bunch; and then it hits her. She could possibly interview the inmates at the near by precinct, in their holding cells. She shot up from her chair, paying for her coffee as she repositioned her hat as she left the dinner.

    The slight rain didn't affect her too much as she called for a taxi. She yelled for one in her crisp british accent, which made a small echo on the empty street. Luckily for her, she doesn't have to fight for this taxi's attention. The taxi came to a stop in front of the reporter. She open the door and hopped in. Once the seat belt click, and a few slips of the tongue, she gave the taxi driver quick directions to her destination for tonight. The driver pulled up at the precinct, and almost immediately turned around and stuck their hand out. At that small gesture. Aranea couldn't help but guess this driver has had a few in the past who didn't pay for the service. She pays for the correct amount of time she was in the taxi and exited. She quickly enters the building, for the rain has gotten hard over time. She walked towards the front desk, her heels clicked with every step as it made contact with the floor.

    "H-Hello? Anyone here?" Someone has to be here. The lights are on and the doors were open. She looks around the room, OH LOOK, a bell. A small desk bell, most abuse said desk bell by ringing it more than once. Aranea decides to fight the urge and follow the unspoken rule and rings the bell once. A man was summoned behind the desk, from one of the back, staff room. Judging from the crumbs on his collared uniform. Everyone was on break, explaining the empty reception room.

    Aranea tapped her fingers against the desk as she leaned more on it. She smiled widely as the correct words lined up in her head to form a question to ask the officer.

    "Good evening officer," she widened her smile, "is there any possibility that the ones you're holding here are open for an interview?"

    The officer took a step back, to chuckle slightly. He shook his head, and sat a small paper on the desk to fully confirm they were indeed on break. And wouldn't be back until later on tonight. Aranea frowned at the sign, guess she'll take that as a no? An actual answer would be nice. She wishes the rude officer a goodnight, quietly cursing as she left the building. Welp, that just plan just blew up in her face, at least she had the rain to help her wipe it off. Perfect day to NOT have an umbrella, awesome.