THEFT - (A Chris Brown Fan Fiction Love Story)

Chapter 3

- FAYE'S POV

I get in from my hectic day at work to find James sprawled out on the couch with a bottle of red wine on the coffee table and a glass in his hand. I don't drink so I don't join him - but I do have a go at him for being lazy.

"James, why are you just sat there drunk? You need to get motivated."

"It's 9 o'clock in the evening. Everyone sits after work with wine - just ask any of my friends."

"I don't," I reply, "and I don't intend to start."

"Maybe you should. Remember the old days when you knew what fun was? Now you're so cooped up in your fucking career that you wear the same scowl everyday."

"Fuck you. I'm going upstairs to bed," I say.

I go upstairs and get changed into my grey silk pyjamas and fluffy bed socks, slipping into bed with ease. I pull my sleeping mask over my eyes and drift off into a deep sleep.

When I wake up, I have a feeling overcome me that I've overslept. Sure enough, when I take my sleeping mask off and grab my phone, I am made aware of the fact that it is 11:03am. Shit, shit, shit. I seize a random outfit from my wardrobe and rush into the bathroom, speedily getting ready. Michael is going to FLIP.

I get into work just before 12. I casually sit down at my desk and turn on my computer.

"Faye, a word in my office, please," I hear Michael tell me over my shoulder.

I let out a little sigh and follow him obediently. When we get there, I sit in the chair opposite him.

"Now. You're four hours late. Care to explain?" he inquires, looking straight into my eyes with a patronising glare. Talk about treating me like a child.

"No. Although I will say that I overslept."

Michael gets out of his seat and strolls around the office, becoming stationary every now and again to peer out of the window. "Oversleeping's great, huh?"

I laugh quietly for a second. "Remember when I asked for your opinion? Nope, me neither."

"You listen here," he growls, turning to face me. "Don't you start getting cocky, young lady. I thought we had a good relationship?"

"Young lady? I'm 23, not 14. And we don't even have a relationship. The last time I saw something like you, Michael, I flushed it; my middle finger gets a boner everytime I think about you... do you want me to continue explaining how I feel about you?

It takes him a while to process what I said and a small smile starts to spread across his face before it zooms away again. "You're not funny."

"At least I'm not so Times New Roman."

"Stop fucking around, Faye. Look, anyway, I'm giving you a formal warning. Anymore lateness and you can expect to be fired," he says, checking his watch. Oh, how coincidental. "Go on, go back to your computer so you can look up more pathetic comebacks to use against me. Wait, was that why you were late? Were you busy locking all those so called comebacks into your brain?"

"Michael, I can't be bothered with you. Life's too short, just like your penis. Bye," I bid him farewell with, getting up and going back to my desk.

I go through all my emails and reply to the ones that are somewhat important, deleting the ones that are pointless pieces of shit. That job, in itself, takes a full hour.

I then go and grab some lunch at the cafeteria, choosing pasta and a bottle of water. I sit down at a table by myself - a tradition that started when I was eleven and at school - and tuck into my pasta, stabbing it with my fork as if I am murdering Michael. Stupid old shit... I hate him with a burning passion.

"Nice pasta eating there," a man's voice jokes. I look up and see Chris Brown standing over me.

"Hi, Chris," I say. "What are you doing here? Our meeting isn't until next week."

"I know. But I was passing by and just wondering if you want to... um, go grab some dinner after you finish work so we can talk a little about the deal?"

I pause while I chew some pasta but then continue with the conversation again. "I don't know if there's anything more to say. How about waiting until the next meeting?"

"OK, sure. See you 'round, Faye," he says, walking away slowly.

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A/N:

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