Silence

Chapter 1

I checked my phone for the fifth time that morning, and although the time had only changed by a couple minutes, I could feel myself getting more stressed out with every second. Finally I gave up, too anxious to wait any longer. Walking over to the only other door in my tiny apartment that wasn't my room or the bathroom, I knocked harshly. "Kyle, come on man! You promised you'd drive me today!" I shouted through the door, but didn't get a response.

With a huff, I turned the knob to enter but to my annoyance found it locked. Grabbing a knife off the counter, I unlocked the door and barged into the room to unsurprisingly see my best friend and roommate still curled up in bed. To the untrained eye he might have seemed peacefully asleep, but I knew better. There was a small twitch in his eyebrow and a pout pulling at his lips. "Get up you lazy ass, you promised." I sighed, having half a mind to just drag him out of bed.

"Why did you choose a place with such shitty locks?" He mumbled, still not opening his eyes.

"Because I knew you'd do this to me." I retorted with a hint of a smile, because we both knew that this place was all we could afford. "Last chance to get up, or I'm eating all of the toaster waffles." I threatened, which had him scrambling out of his sheets in an instant.

"You're cruel." He hissed without venom, making me chuckle as I walked back into what could be called our living room but was really just one couch and a small television.

"Whatever, just hurry up. I don't want to be late on my first day. I was lucky enough to land this internship, let alone it being paid." Despite seeming calm, my leg wouldn't stop shaking as I sat waiting on the couch for Kyle to get dressed. It was amazing, really, how fast he could get up and get ready. He could get up half an hour before leaving; sometimes less; whereas I had to be up and dressed at least an hour early or I'd start to rush around in a mad panic.

Not even ten minutes later we were running out the door, Kyle juggling his keys, book bag, and the waffle that was hanging halfway out of his mouth. I tugged at the edges of my sleeves nervously, trying not to chew on my lip out of fear they'd be swollen when I arrived.

Kyle looked at me out of the corner of his eye and sighed. "Cheer up Noah, you'll do fine. You had some of the highest grades in your class, and you've already been hired for this internship. Nothing can go wrong as long as you try your best." His words made me feel slightly better, but nothing could calm the storm that was raging in my stomach.

Even after two years of college for a degree in fashion and photography I still doubted my skills. Kyle was right, of course, but all I could think of were all of the things that could go wrong today. I could trip, I could stutter, I could faint...so many small things that felt like they would be the end of the world to me. "We're here." Kyle's voice snapped me out of my panicky trance. "I have to get to school, but good luck Noah. You'll do great." He leaned over and kissed my cheek in farewell, like usual, before all but shoving me out the door and speeding off to class.

I took a deep breath and looked up at the tall building, right in the heart of downtown Vancouver. It was intimidating, but people were starting to look at me funny just standing there so I head in.

My first thought was how out of place I was. Everyone was dressed in shades of black, white, and gray, with the occasional navy blue. Very professional and sleek. I, on the other hand, wore a pair of fitted mauve jeans and a dark blue button up with a subtle white flower pattern. I'd spent nearly half an hour this morning trying to get my dirty blonde hair tamed to perfection, but just being here made me feel like a slob already.

I was ready to just walk out when a crisply dressed woman came walking up, her heels clicking against the pristine floor tiles. "Noah Clark?" She asked, looking me over with a calculated gaze. "This way please. We just have a few documents for you to sign and fill out, and then you'll be passed off to Mr.Whitman. You'll be working for him with his design team in our men's formal department." She said in a clipped tone, not necessarily rude but very to the point and obviously uninterested.

It didn't take long to fill out the necessary forms, most of them just making sure I agreed not to reveal anything to any competitors, and of course the standard payment paperwork. The woman; who's name I learned was Rachel not by her telling me, but by the small plaque on her desk; was very quick to usher me off upstairs.

As far as I could tell, the company occupied the upper half of the building while the lower half belonged to a law firm that was partnered with them. Of course, I only knew this from the seemingly rehearsed facts Rachel was droning on about as she walked me to the elevator.

After getting slightly disoriented from the rows of identical cubicles and meeting rooms, I finally found my way to Mr.Whitman's office. Timidly, I knocked on the door. The windows were tinted so I was unsure if he was busy, let alone actually in there.

After a minute I was about to go and find Rachel again to ask her to find him for me, but as soon as I made a move to leave the door swung open. Behind it stood an older man with salt and pepper hair, average height and obviously still in shape for his age by the defined edges of his fitted suit. It dawned on me how attractive the people were that worked here, and suddenly I felt even more self-conscious.

He smiled warmly at me; the first welcoming face I'd seen since entering the building. "Ah, you must be Noah! Thank God you're here, I've been running around all morning like a chicken with its head cut off, and all my staff are too busy to help! Come in!" He all but pulled me inside his office, which wasn't hard considering my smaller build.

"So, I was hoping to gradually ease you into our workplace, but we don't have time for that. There's a show coming up in less than a month, and the boss has already rejected three of our six designs. He's coming back from Milan tonight, and has made it clear I'd better have at least five new ideas on his desk by the time he gets here tomorrow." He was talking quickly, rummaging through the stack of papers in a disarray on his desk.

"Well...what would you like me to do?" I asked quietly while still standing and fidgeting shyly. He looked up, and even though I was nervous I still met his eyes. If nothing else, my mother had taught me good manners.

"He speaks!" He exclaimed with a chuckle, standing up straight again. "Well I'm afraid because of this hectic situation I'll need you to be running some errands for me today. I'd liked to have been able to show you around and introduce you to the team, but as it is now there's just no time. So," he said, picking up a folder, "I need you to collect the designs from each of the team members located in the cubicles on this floor, then bring them to me to approve. After, I'll have you go down to the production floor to get samples of the fabrics. We'll have a quick meeting to discuss which designs to submit where I'll introduce you to everyone, then off to work again."

I just stood there for a moment, a bit overwhelmed. "Well?" He waved the folder at me and raised a brow. Quickly, I jumped into action and practically ran out of his office with a rushed "Yes sir" squeaking past my lips.

As promised I was introduced to the five members of Mr.Whitman's team in a hurried meeting: Emily, Diane, Whitney, Sarah, and the only guy besides me, Mark. After exchanging names, I was sent off again. The rest of the day followed in the same manner with only a short break for lunch, and by the time I was on transit home I was ready to fall asleep.

Kyle was playing his video games in the living room when I finally got home an hour later, only pausing for a moment to ask how it was. "Tiring," I admitted with a sigh as I warmed up some milk in the microwave, something my mother had done when I was child that always stuck with me. "I think I'll like it though. The people seem kind of stuck up, but I suppose that's just this kind of industry." I shrugged, and that seemed to be enough for him. I said goodnight, and he grunted in response as he turned back to our small tv while I headed off to bed. If tomorrow was anything like today, I'd need the rest.