𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.
❝ UM... ALLISON
YOUR BROTHER
ALMOST KILLED
ME WITH A KNIFE. ❞
in which allison's best friend
visits her after finding out her
father dies and manages to catch
the attention of number two.
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☂
POET CAPULET stood outside the room she was instructed to go to for her interview with Allison Hargreeves. She was nervous, hands slightly shaking as she kept taking off her rings on each of her fingers to hopefully soothe her nerves (it wasn't working, she was nervous as fuck). She was standing in front of the door and she softly cleared her throat, hand hovering above the doorknob, hesitating on opening it with her bottom lips between her teeth.
"Fuck it," she mumbled, opening the door. She kept her gaze on the floor while walking towards the chair in the front of the room. When she did look up, she felt her breath hitch in her throat when she saw two or three people there with Allison Hargreeves in the middle. She gulped, taking a seat. "Uh... Hi."
"Hello," Allison smiled warmly. "What's your name?"
"Um... Poet Capulet," Poet answered, scratching the back of her head. Allison nodded, waiting for the person next to her to finish writing down whatever they were writing down. But her mind was filled with memories when she was younger at coming to hear the last name. Poet tried her hardest to ignore it.
"That's an interesting name," the actress complimented. "'Poet Capulet.' Never heard of anyone with that name."
"Parents love for poetry," Poet smiled awkwardly before she looked around, nodding slowly. "Nice place. Reminds me of my parents' house."
The people around Allison ignored her, knowing she was speaking just to speak. They could note the clues just like the other people before her that were shaking with nerves and stuttering over their words.
"Did you go to college?" One of them asked.
Poet nodded. "Yeah, I thought I sent you my resume. Didn't you guys read it? I'm sure if you did you wouldn't have called me here to ask me the questions that my resume could've answered for you." As soon as those words escaped her mouth, she immediately scolded herself, closing her eyes and taking a breather. Unprofessional, stupid. You're not going to get it.
"We called you to know you better in person," the other said between gritted teeth.
"Yeah, sorry." Poet smiled sarcastically. Allison smiled to herself, clearing her throat to hide the laugh that was about to escape her throat. Poet mentally slapped herself in the head, knowing that what she was saying wasn't very professional. But, she couldn't stop herself. Maybe this was why her parents always locked her and her brother up.
"Hobbies?"
"Playing lacrosse and writing," the girl replied.
"Your parents are Flint Capulet and Sam Capulet," the third person said as they looked down at their paper. "Amazing scientists. Weren't they apart of the scientists that stole the cells of a black woman?"
"No, you've mistaken my parents with my aunt and uncle," Poet sighed. "They were apart of the doctors that stole the first immortal cells from a woman. Henrietta Lacks."
"The HeLa cells?" Allison questioned. Poet nodded.
"Shitty people they were."
"We don't tolerate that type of language here, Ms. Capulet," the man said. Poet raised an eyebrow and inhaled, sighing at her own actions. So many mistakes in one.
"Oh, damn," she winced, crossing her arms. "My bad."
"I—" He was cut off before he could speak any more.
"You're hired," Allison stood up immediately. The people looked at her with shock. Poet looked surprised for a second before she let herself calm down and focus on the thoughts circling around her.
She heard Allison's voice.
Yes, please.
"You can't just hire someone in the spot—"
"I can because I'm the one who needs an assistant. So," Allison turned to look at Poet, who was patiently waiting, "you're my assistant now."
