Zero Identity

Chapter 4: Interrogation {UNDER CONSTRUCTION}

Chapter 4: Blackout

I was back in that god awful lobby. Jennifer, the sloppy and unorganized receptionist, sat at the desk clicking away at her computer and occasionally blowing bubbles, her gum snapping menacingly. For a reason I couldn't fathom, I was nervously excited. I scolded myself internally. I knew how this interview would end. I probably would not land a promotion and start writing for the crime desk. Who was I kidding? That scumbag Steve was running it. I sat back in the unsteady and uncomfortable chair and stared at the old clock that hung on the wall opposite of me, the feeling of nervousness all too familiar. I absently grasped at the hem of my pencil skirt. I had dressed what I thought was appropriate to the situation. A crisp white collared blouse, paired with a straightened pencil skirt and a shiny pair of flat shoes. I never did well when in heels anyway. I thought about reading one of the many magazines scattered accross the lounge table to get my mind off of the bubbling nerves but decided against it. I glanced again at the clock. 15 minutes. I had been waiting for 15 minutes. My shoes tapped impatiently against the tiled floor.

"Hey." Jennifer called out in a loud whisper. I look in her direction. She leaned over her desk and her eyes lit up mischeviously. Great. She wasn't known as the building's 'Gossip Girl' for no reason.

"Yea?"  Jennifer beckoned for me to come closer. I sighed inwardly and walked over.

"What's up?" I asked against my will.

"Did you hear what happened out  in the streets last night?" She asked. My brows furrowed in confusion. Jennifer usually gossiped about co-workers, not happenings out in the street.

"What?" I asked slightly curious.

"Cops found two guys in an alley. One was as dead as a doorknob. Shot in the forhead." Jennifer began. I swallowed, my throat dry. Something about that story made me uncomfortable.

"The second guy is losing his mind. Keeps mumbling stuff about some wacky secret organization. But they think he may know who the two suspects are." The nerves in my body suddenly froze. I felt prespiration forming in the follicles of my forehead.

"There-there were two?" I stumbled.

"Yea. Isn't it awesome? Like a huge mystery. I can't wait till they're caught. They're gonna crack like eggs!"  Her eyes narrowed and brought her fist down onto her desk. The thud made me jump.

"You!" I heard someone yell behind me. I turned a little too fast. Scumbag Steve stood in the doorway of his office. When he saw my face, his annoyed scowl turned to a slimy grin.

"Come on in."  He guestured into the room. I threw Jennifer an unsure glance. She shrugged and went back to her computer. I shuffled over to the office, trying to squeeze through the doorway without Steve invading my personal bubble.

"You look good." His oily voice stated in a growl. I shuddered. He took his seat across from me and stared for a moment. His eyes trailed over to my chest and he rose his eyebrows suggestively. I felt a spark of anger bubble inside of me.

"So no need to worry. You've got the job." He sighed lazily. Steve began to shift through the pile of papers scattered accross his desk. 

"I did?" I asked incredulously. Steve scoffed.

"Ya, of course. You are the best looking and you get to report to me everyday." I ignored his egotistical comment and focused on the elated feeling of success. I had finally gotten the job. Of course there would be minor disadvantages, seeing Steve everyday being the primary one, but I would find my way around that. I was finally writing about something I was passionate about. No more useless coffee runs and pathetic one sided local stories. It was the real deal. Steve rambled on some more about the perks of being his glorious understudy and how much fun we would have together, his voice just a distant sound in my mind. This was it. My big break.