Andy was quite knowledgeable about the colour blue, and all of its different hues. Mainly because Miranda's monologue has freaked her out. So she did the logical thing any shaken employee would do; spend countless hours researching.
She'd be lying if she said she hated it. It wasn't something she did for enjoyment, more so out of survival. However, the cool hues of cornflower, capri, iris, teal, and of course, cerulean fascinated her.
There was something about them that was so captivating, reminiscent of something, or someone that has been on her mind recently. Andy had a couple inklings on what it was, but found that it was best to push these theories to the back of her mind. If she thought about it for too long, she was unable to focus and her mood turned sour. So it was really for the best.
Blue was a calming colour, neurologists wrote. For Andy, she'd list off all the variations of blue in alphabetical order to relax. Especially when Miranda had given her yet another impossible assignment.
But actually looking at all the colours laid out in front of her, was electrifying and made her feel an odd mixture of emotions. She wasn't sure how to categorise them, but they were fleeting, lingering, uncomfortable, and dangerous. But terribly addicting. Andy wish she could figure out a better way to explain it to herself, because she just wanted it to at least seem a little coherent.
"Andrea, if I have to call your name one more time, I might as well throw my head into the paper shredder," Miranda grumbled from her office.
Andy sighed as she set down her planner. Navy blue. She rose to her feet, dimly aware of Emily glaring at her as she scurried away.
"Yes, Miranda?" Those two words were automatic now. The editor barely spared her a glance as she frowned over paperwork.
"Move up the Gardenia shoot for tomorrow, 1:30. I need you to get Meisel on the phone before then, see if that's compatible with whatever schedule he has. And tell Paul I will not allow his editorial team to push deadlines back, if they're going to be altered, I'd rather have them pushed forward."
Miranda paused for a moment to shuffle her papers into a neat stack, her glasses balancing precariously over her nose as she shifted in her seat. "That's all."
Andy hastily scrawled this into her notes. The ink bleeding into the pages was zaffre. "Alright." She turned to leave, but stopped dead in her tracks when Miranda murmured, "You're wearing an excessive amount of blue, it doesn't look right with your complexion. Fix that."
Dumbfounded, Andy managed a quick nod, then bolted to her desk as fast as she could.
Later that day, Miranda called Andy in to make changes to her schedule again.
It was getting late, and the brunette stumbled into the editor's office, finding Miranda with her fingers curled around a glass of wine as opposed to a cup of coffee.
The snow-haired woman's eyes glimmered dangerously upon her entry, as if daring Andy to comment on it. In this lighting, her icy eyes almost appeared grey. Glaucous blue.
"So is that all?" Andy inquired once Miranda had stopped speaking to delicately sip her wine. When the assistant spoke, Miranda tilted her head at her with detachment as she gracefully balanced her glass in the palm of her hand. "Not quite. Will you be accompanying me to that frivolous cocktail party on Friday?"
Andy was startled, unsure if she heard her correctly. Miranda never asked, she demanded. "Uh, if you want me to?" Was the best response she could formulate given her shock.
Miranda looked a bit flustered, refusing to meet Andy's eyes. Her pink cheeks hinted at embarrassment. "Emily will go instead if you decide you have something better to do, which I highly doubt," she sniffed haughtily. Miranda toyed with her wine glass for a bit, then let out an exasperated sigh as if she'd realised what she had been doing. The fidgeting immediately stopped.
