Craving Scarlett

|1|. The Ball

Craving Scarlett

★★★

What a stressful day! I thought to myself as I parked my car in the garage, a turquoise blue Toyota Prius, and stepped out, grabbing my handbag and then locking it.

My heels made clicking sounds as it hit the gravel and made my way into the building, getting into the elevator and stepping off when it dropped me at my floor. I walked over to my front door and brought out my keys, inserting them into the keyhole. It made a metallic clink as it opened.

I sighed wearily, brushing my auburn hair back, tucking it behind my ears. I entered into my small compact yet cosy apartment and kicked off my heels, throwing my handbag and overcoat on the couch and made my way to the kitchen, to drink a glass of water.

I leaned against the kitchen counter as I reflected on why I had been feeling so tired. I owned a boutique and lately, customers had been trooping in steadily, the constant pressure on me and my two assistants was beginning to take a toll on all of us. If this persisted, I reflected wryly, I would need to hire another assistant.

I sighed again, rubbing my hands over my sweaty face. I needed a bath.

I dropped the glass of water at the shiny countertop and made my way to my bedroom. I stripped my clothes off, dropping them on the floor–I would pack them later, I assured myself–and entered into the bathroom. I filled the bathtub with water and slipped inside, sinking deep into its watery, bubbly depths and exhaled in contentment.

Ah, this was the life.

I soon fell asleep, dreaming of chocolate and ice cream. Soon enough, I woke up, shivering, groggily absorbing the fact that I was still in the bathtub and the water had run cold. I jumped up from the tub speedily and in my attempt to get out, I slipped, falling onto the tiled floor.

Life's just peachy, ain't it?

I stifled a groan and used the tiled wall to lift myself from the floor.

You just had to fall asleep, didn't you, Scarlett? My inner subconscious berated me.

I ignored her and inspected myself for any injuries. Thankfully, there was none. You couldn't blame me though, I was worn out.

I grabbed a robe, securing it about my slender frame and made my way over to the dressing table. I sat down on the chair, drying my hair with the hair dryer, while eyeing the woman staring back at me in the mirror.

Her shoulder length hair hung around a pale, lean face, her eyebrows needed a trim, dark circles visible now that it wasn't covered by make-up; evidence that she hadn't been sleeping enough, emphasizing her dull blue eyes. I made a face at the woman in the mirror. She looked absolutely haggard.

I sighed–I had been doing that more often, lately–and went into the closet, selecting a large black shirt with shorts and quickly changed into them. I didn't feel like cooking, so I ordered pizza. Ten minutes later, I was eating pizza while curled up on my sofa, flipping through TV channels, searching for an interesting enough topic. I soon lost interest and stored the remaining pizza in the refrigerator, and climbed into my bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

★★★

I shut the door of my office, leaning against it heavily, as I tried to regain my breath. It had been even worse today. I guiltily thought about my assistants I had left, seeking refuge in my office, even if it proved to be just temporary.

A knock sounded at the door, a soft voice calling out, "Scarlett, Mrs Bridgestone is asking for you." It was Rose, one of my assistants.

I groaned and took a deep breath and mentally prepared myself for dealing with Mrs Bridgestone, one of my most troublesome customers to date. Feeling as prepared as I could be under the circumstances, I stepped away from the door and opened it, seeing Rose's weary face and mentally noted to hire a third assistant.