Fifty Shades of Grayson

Chapter 1

I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn my hair, it just won't behave, and damn Drake for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I have tried to brush my hair into submission but it's not toeing the line. The white part at the front will not lie down. I must learn not to sleep with it wet. I recite this five times as a mantra whilst I try, once more, with the brush. I give up. The only thing I can do is wet my hand and run it through my locks a couple of times. At least I won't have to wear my helmet and make it worse.

Timothy Drake is my roommate and he has chosen, okay, that's a bit unfair, because choice has had nothing to do with it, but he has the flu and as such cannot do the interview he's arranged with some mega industrialist for the student newspaper. So I have been volunteered. I have final exams to cram for, one essay to finish and I am supposed to be working this afternoon, but no - today - I have to head into downtown Seattle and meet the enigmatic CEO of Grayson Enterprise Holdings, Inc. Allegedly he's some exceptional tycoon who is a major benefactor of our University and his time is extraordinarily precious... much more precious than mine - and he's granted Tim an interview... a real coup he tells me... Damn his extra-curricular activities.

"Jay I'm sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview and it will take another six toreschedule, and you and I will both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can't blow this out...Please." Tim begs me in his rasping, throaty voice.

I stare at his red-rimmed runny eyes, his bright pink nose. "Of course, I'll go Drake. You should go back to bed. Would you like some paracetamol?"

"Yes please. Here are the questions and my minidisk recorder. Just press record here. Make notes, I'll transcribe it all."

"I know nothing about him." My voice is anxious.

"The questions will see you through... go... I don't want you to be late."

"Okay... I'm going... I have a long drive. Go back to bed, but please make sure you eat - I madeyou some soup to heat up later." I stare at him fondly.... only for you Tim would I do this.

"I will. Good luck... and thanks Jason, you're a lifesaver as usual."

I smiled wryly at him and head out the door to our room. I cannot believe I have let Tim talk me into this. But then he can talk anyone into anything. He'll make an exceptional journalist. He's articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative... beautiful, and he's my dearest, dearest friend. The roads are clear as I set off from Gotham; it's early and I don't have to be in Blüdhaven until two this afternoon. Fortunately, he's lent me his car. I'm not sure my bike would be up for the journey. Well, it is the least he can do - I frown into the rearview mirror - but I have to say his sporty BMW Z4 is not too bad. My bike is better of course,  but this is fun too, and the miles slip away as I put my foot down.

It's cloudy, but at least it's not raining as I make my way into the city. The traffic entering Blüdhaven is heavy, but I have an hour to go and I'm feeling fairly confident that I should be able to find somewhere to park... Thank heavens for the Sat Nav on the Z4 or I'd be royally screwed.

My destination is the headquarters of Mr Grayson's global enterprise. It's a huge thirty-storey office building, all curved glass and steel, an architect's utilitarian fantasy with Grayson House written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors. It's a quarter to two and I feel an immense sense of relief that I'm not late as I walk into the enormous, frankly intimidating, glass, steel and white sandstone, first floor foyer.