Carmen - H.S

Chapter 8

This sucks but I'll edit it later. Also, I'm in D.C. and there are a lot of chubby joggers here.

Anyway this is a filler. So have fun with that. Au revoir.

Carmen was claustrophobic. She had to be because every time she was contained in this tiny little box, she felt fit to violently explode. But then, she thought with a little smile, Ron would be forced to clean up the mess.

"Are you even paying attention?" Ron snapped, already close to his breaking point not even halfway through the day. His voice was even more irritating and tinny over the speaker.

"I'm tired," she moaned. "It's hot in here. And it smells weird." An extremely pervading scent that smelled somewhat like stiff plastic and hot glue wafted into her nostrils. She hated it.

"Suck it up," he huffed. Couldn't she stop being a brat for one day? "We absolutely have to get this done today."

"Why?" she asked, drawing out the word in that irritating way of hers.

"Because we couldn't rent out the studio for another day."

"Why the hell not? I'm the most important person here."

He was sick and tired of her inflated ego. How a person could be this dramatically narcissistic was beyond him. He would've thought it all an act if he didn't know her so unfortunately well. "Sing your song, Carmen."

She kept silent for a few beats just to annoy him. Then she opened her red, red lips and began to sing.

Of course, her voice was enchanting. But Ron had grown immune to its charms long ago. He recalled the first time he'd met Carmen. It had been a horribly sweltering week in the middle of May. He'd been off to recruit talent in Atlanta, but a ticketing error had incidentally landed him in the dreary state of Ohio. His bags had been lost, and with them his clothing, cellphone, and money. He'd spent two agonizing days there before deciding to walk to the nearest airport, which he later learned was seventy four miles away.

After hitchhiking for the majority of the journey, he'd been able to book a flight out of there. But he'd had to wait six hours. At least the airport was air conditioned. During his last hour, a small family had arrived and seated themselves next to him. They were loud. The mother was obnoxiously teary, and the father had one of those booming voices that people who are going deaf tend to acquire. The older daughter was tall and slender, with a pretty face that would do well in catalogs. He hadn't even noticed the younger one until she'd started to sing.

Her lilting voice had filled the spacious room, his eager ears, and the hearts of everyone nearby. You couldn't look away. She was the moon, drawing their attention like tides toward her.

Ron wasn't a stupid man. He knew a good voice when he heard it. Immediately, he had given her his card, and her eyes had lit up. At the time, he'd mistaken it for excitement. Now he knew what that calculating glint really was.

Two months later, he'd officially become her manager. How he wished he could take that day back.

She belted out the last notes with a passion that nearly surprised him. When she was done, she slipped off her headphones and smiled at him calmly. She was always so complacent just after singing, which was why he brought her to the recording studio as much as possible.

"How was that, Ronnie?" she queried lightly, and he chose to ignore that nickname.

"Perfect," he sighed, more out of relief than adoration. "We got what we needed."

"Great!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together almost giddily.

He had already started to file through the forms he was required to fill out when she continued to speak.

"Where's that assistant boy?" she asked brightly. Her pale hands reached for the water bottle in the booth, and she took a tiny sip.

He didn't bother to speak; she never gave him enough time to answer anyway. "Did he quit? Have you hired a new one yet?" Her eyes were glowing almost cruelly.

"Actually," Ron began, a strange sense of satisfaction settling over him. "He's at the office right now. Doing paper work."

Carmen looked genuinely shocked. Her eyebrows rose as she wondered how that gawky boy had withstood her taunting. She'd thought he'd cracked days ago. Most of Ron's previous assistants had quit by this point. But apparently he'd deal with whatever he had to to keep his crappy boring job. Why was he different?

Maybe he was a bit tougher than she'd thought.

Or maybe she just had to step up her game.

Ron had been watching her expression the whole time with growing dread. He could tell exactly what she was thinking.

"Why do you hate my assistants?" he sighed, not expecting to get a plausible answer.

She shrugged and brushed a shiny lock of black hair from her face. "It's fun to mess with them,"she giggled. "And in a way, I'm helping you, Ron."

He snorted loudly. "How are you doing that?"

"I'm weeding out all the weak employees. The ones that stay are the good ones."

It made an odd sort of sense, but he would never tell her that. Instead, he turned his attention to the documents in front of him and tried to block her words out. Carmen stood up slowly and stretched her thin arms overhead. She exhaled deeply and Ron was abruptly reminded of something.

"Are you still smoking?" he asked seriously.

She looked up at him and blinked with wide eyes, resembling those of a newborn fawn. He hated animals. "Of course I wouldn't, Ron. Not after you told me not to."

Her face was too innocent, and he felt wariness tug at his brain. But without pursuing the matter, he quickly waved her out.

He could feel something perching in his chest but had no idea what it was. It was all-encompassing, squeezing his heart out subtly and sharply. He felt confused and irritated and slightly frightened all at once. It bothered him, this heavy feeling of bewilderment, and he quickly shook his head to clear it. There was no time. He had work to do.