Mr.Brightside

Chapter 2

"Morning Mr.Downbridge." Kaitlynn says biting her bottom lip and rubbing against my shoulder as I walk past. Whore. Funny that she thinks I want her. Amusing. "Hey man!" Donald says with an enthusiastic expression glued on his face. "Morning!" He continues, straightening his tie over his fat belly. I wave and walk past him. Janette, my secretary, opens the glass double doors for me, her blood red glossed lips grinning just the slightest. I grin back at her and take a seat at my desk. "John McCarter, the speaker for Genesis Water Co., was trying to reach you this morning. Would you like me to call him or leave a message?" She asks sitting down on the edge of my desk

"Leave a message." I reply starting up my computer and pushing up my glasses. "Sure thing." Janette says walking towards the room to the left. Just as she closes the door, I receive an email from one of my co-workers.

Mr. Carson Downbridge,

I would like to invite you to a party I'll be throwing tonight!Dress formally as it will be held at Luxe hotel downtown. I hope to see you there!

Fredrick Jameson

Fredrick Jameson. He thinks he's the classiest man who ever set foot on the earth. There are bound to be the most snobbiest, disgusting, arrogant people there. Yes...they seem quite appropriate to suit my needs. My mouth watering with excitement, I begin typing out a new draft.

Fredrick Jameson,

I would be much obliged to attend your celebration at the Luxe hotel tonight. Though most parties I attend are not thrown by ones such as yourself, it seems like a rather joyous and pleasurable occasion. Expect to see me a 7:00 sharp in by best tux.

Carson Downbridge

Send. "Janette!" I call. "Yes sir?" She replies opening the door. "Would you call the dry cleaner and tell them to have my tux delivered to my house please?" I ask, flashing her a friendly smile. "No problem!"Janette obeys, returning to the reception room once again. I whip out my phone and begin typing a text to Abigail.

I'll be going to a party tonight. Join me?

No. I'll stay home tonight so I can clean up the house.

Okay :'(

I love you

...I love you too

Looks like I'll be going alone tonight. Shame. Oh well. I wouldn't want Abigail to come with me to murder someone anyways.

Nine hours of painstakingly long paper work and 3 mugs of black coffee pass by and I unlock the door to my house. Laying my brief case on the table, I head up to the bedroom to change. My black tux lays over the foot of the bed. Lovely. "Hey..." I hear Abigail's unmistakable voice say as her red nails slide around my chest from behind. I turn around place my hands on her waist. "Hello." I say before pecking her on the lips. She raises an eyebrow as if to say 'Is that all you got?'. Before she can make any smart remarks, I shove my mouth against hers. Abigail takes a hands from my chest and places on the back of my neck, massaging my hairline. Her strawberry tasting gloss spreads across my lips at our mouth mock each other. She slips her tongue, which in fact tastes a lot like her lipgloss, in just a bit and hooks my lip with it, making a loud smacking noise as we part. I give her a devilish grin and turn around.

I slip off my clothes and shoes, revealing my ripped physique. Abigail hands me the tux from the end of the bed and I begin putting on the black slacks. As I button up my shirt I stare at Abigail, sitting at the office desk across the room, still wearing only a blue button up with the middle unbuttoned, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her auburn hair is still down and a mess. I often wonder how a woman of such high standards accepted this "hobby" of mine. Granted, murder is not the easiest thing to accept, but it being a regular thing is even stranger. If looks could kill I'd be gutted at the stomach and hanging from the ceiling fan. I guess everyone has their passion. Abigail's is art and mine just happens to be phycological murder.

"Need help with this?" she asks, snatching up the bow tie from the bed. "No. I don't want to wear it." I reply slipping on my jacket. Abigail places a hand on her hip. "You look nice." She says grinning at me. I chuckle a bit and say "So do you." She replies as I open the front door.

"When will you be back?"

"When blood spills."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye, dearest..."

And I close the car door.