On My Way Home (Scömìche)

1~ "Un" Known Caller

I remove my black framed glasses and rub my hand over my sore eyes, staring at a screen all day does a toll on the corneas. I lean back in the uncomfortable office chair and frown at the bright screen. Finally the transcripts are done. I clutch the worn arm rests and pull myself closer to the desk. I slide my fingertip across the mouse pad and click on the save file. I place my glasses back on my face and glance over at the small digital clock, that rests on my cluttered desk, in my cell of a cubicle. Eleven Thirty-Seven at night. I let out a raspy groan, breaking the silence that hangs in the empty office building. Everyone else went home nearly three hours ago and here I am, sitting behind my fucking laptop, finishing my boss's work. He is such an ass. I run my hand through my, untamed, short black hair. I rise, shut the screen, and gather up a few files. As I tidy my things into a neat stack my phone begins to buzz. I turn to the direction of my briefcase. I walk towards it slowly and reach inside, fishing out the now silent device. 'One Missed Call' it reads. I unlock the screen by sliding my thumb across it. An unknown number is printed under the 'Missed Call' list, but I've seen that number enough to recognize it by the first three digits. I tuck the phone into the back pocket of my tight, black slacks. I will call him back later. I grab the handle of my briefcase, shove my laptop and files into the small case, and latch it tightly, storming out of the cubicle. I make haste as I walk down the hallway.

Rows and rows of dark cubicles sit empty as I pass. "Grassy?!" I hear a deep voice shout. I freeze as I clench my teeth, eyes, and hands closed. Great... I open my eyes, plaster a fake smile on my face, and spin around to none other then my boss. "Grassi, sir." I whisper across the office, barely able to hide the annoyance in my voice. "Ah, yes..." He says as he walks towards me. The light, from his office and the break room, illuminates his predatory facial features. "I was wondering when I was going to get those transcripts back because the Heads are going to want them soon and if they don't receive them from me, You won't receive a paycheck." He threatens, taking a couple more steps towards me. I swallow a lump in my throat. I hate to admit it, but this man scares me. Usually I can hold my own, with wit and sass, but he is taller than I and he is very built. "They- they're done, sir..." I stutter, kicking myself for it. He stops two feet in front of me. I tense up clutching the briefcase as if I were holding on for dear life. I try to straighten my back and appear more courageous than cowardly. "Mr. Grass-i, you have worked for this company for three years now and I don't think I have ever thanked you enough for being such a great assistant... You truly are one of the most hardworking, dedicated-" I stop him. "I am Lead Executive for the Employee's Relations, sir." I begin. "I take care of all of your- Our- employee's needs, vacations, and wages. I am not an Assistant." I hiss from between my teeth and the tight smile on my lips. "Well I don't think that Lead Executive blah blah blah fetches me coffee, takes my calls, and finishes my work." He says, sneering. I purse my lips and raise an eyebrow. "Have a good night, Mr. Kirk." I spit, oozing with a sickening sweetness. With that I turn on heel, in my leather dress shoes, and strut down the hallway.

When I reach my car, I dig through my slacks pockets to find the keys. I reach into my back pocket, my fingers brushing against my phone, and then my keys reminding me of the call. I shake my head and grab the keys unlocking my car door. I look up at the bright sign that reads 'Stock Brokers Inc.', the sign that mocks me. The sign that puts me in a bad mood just thinking about it. I hate everyone there. I look up and down the tall building and then back at the sign. I raise my slender, pale, middle finger at the building as I grasp the handle to my car door and swing it open, clambering inside. I slam the door closed and throw my briefcase into the passenger seat. My phone begins to buzz against my bottom. I reach into the back of my slacks and withdraw the device. The same number from before reappears on my screen. I place my phone in the cup holder dividing the two seats. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I shove my keys in the ignition and twist them, bringing the car to life. Fastening my seat belt with one of my hands and placing my free hand on the steering wheel, I pull out of the parking space.

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A/N: For the first couple chapters I am trying to set a 'foundation' for the story... It is a little slow but if you enjoyed stick around because there is more to come. Thanks for reading.