After

Lady Liberty

"Not guilty," as I heard the verdict I let our sigh of relief. I led my client out of the large courthouse of New York, New York to come face to face with the flash of what felt like a million cameras.
"Did you really do it?" Asked one reporter to my client, Blake Rhet, a (former) suspect in the murder of his girlfriend.
"Mr. Jones! Sir! How do you feel about defending another murder?" Asked a very straightforward reporter. I didn't even flinch. I didn't care about the newscasters, all I cared about was my job.
       I worked as a defense attorney for NYC's most successful law firm, Morgan and Faith. Not only did I work for them, I was their most powerful (and youngest) attorney. I made over $100,000 a year! I lived in a penthouse in the middle of Times Square! I was on top of the world!
       If you would have told me ten years ago that this is how I would be living I would have laughed right in your face. Let's just say that in high school I was not popular... at all. I was your typical geeky, fidgety, and socially awkward teenager who got his head pushed in the dirty toilets everyday. But I made good grades, and was determined to prove to all those assholes that I was better. I would show them.
       After I made sure my client was safely in a cab I walked down the crowded sidewalks of New York City and turned into the tall skyscraper where I worked. I made my way up the stairs (I hated elevators) to get to my office on the top floor. I told my secretary to take all my calls and decided to screw around in my office all day. I deserved it.
       It was about thirty minutes until quitting time when my secretary timidly opened the door. "S-sir, it's your b-boss," she nervously stuttered.
       "Ah," I signed walking over to take the phone from her hand, "calm down Anna, I don't bite." At this she gave me a small smile and quickly closed the door behind her.
       "Lennon!" My boss, Mason Morgan, shouted happily through the phone. "Congratulations young man," he continued.
       "Thank you sir," I confidently smiled.
       "How do you do it? Actually, don't tell me! Every man deserves his secrets, legal or not," the older man gave a hearty laughed. "Look kid, how do you feel about a vacation?"
       "What? Sir, I don't need a vacation! I'm perfectly fine working!" I told him, halfway worried that he was firing me. Mason Morgan had a habit of giving people vacations that lasted forever.
       "Oh no, Lennon!   You deserve this! Go see the world, work can wait! We'll all be here when you return! Come on kid, what do you want to see? On us!" He explained.
       "Well, I've always wanted to see the Hollywood sign," I decided.
       "Done!"