More Than This // h.s.

chapter 3

"Well, I know you've been looking for something a bit more...monochromatic," I say, "so I've come up with these sketches. This part would look amazing in either green or blue."

I was face to face with the Assistant Manager of TechCorp, one of the biggest bussiness in Manhattan. TechCorp wanted to reinnovate their main lobby, and they needed two center pieces. 

And....they picked me to make them.

"I like it...?" he trailed off.

"Audrey." I finished for him.

"Yes, well, Audrey, you've got the job," he smiles politely.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU SERIOUS?" I squeal in delight.

"Excuse me?" he asks, turning around. "I mean...thank you," I say casually.

"We'll talk money in my office," he nods curtly, and exits the room.

I try and stay calm and composed, but I'm dying of excitement on the inside. I follow him, silently jumping with joy. 

"Well," he says, looking at a few papers, "TechCorp is prepared to offer you thirty thousand dollars for both the pieces together."

"Okay," I say faintly.

"Just sign here and here," he motions to two blank spaces, "And you can be on your way."

----

"I quit," I smile at my boss. I'm now at the Starbucks on the corner of 5th and 6th avenue, where I work a double shift when I wasn't in my studio. 

"What?" she asks, giving me a snarky look. I absolutely hated her-- her rudeness, her annoying voice, and her boobs bigger than her brain.

"I said I quit," I say louder. "I won't be coming back again tomorrow. You can send me my paycheck this month...in the mail." 

I take off my green apron and hand it to her. She smacks her lips at me, and turns away, walking off.

"You're quitting?" my friend Wyatt , who also works here, asks. "You can't quit, Auds!"

Wyatt's this really tall, lanky guy who goes to the public university in the Bronx. His life goals are to open up his own recording studio and date Dave Franco, who he has this major crush on. Yes, he's gay. But he's also one of my best friends.

"Sorry, Wyatt. You know that really big offer I've been talking about? I got it!" I grin.

"NO WAY!" he yells.

"YES WAY!"

After we're done hopping around in little circles and squealing with happiness, I say bye to Wyatt and we make plans to have dinner together soon. 

I take the subway home, grabbing a box of pizza on the way. I quickly rush up the stairs and get to our flat. "Hey, kid?" I call for Noah.

I hear the t.v. on in the living room. Noah's cuddled up next to our white cat, Einstein.

Don't ask...Noah named him when he was four. They're both watching some documentary.

"I got pizza," I sang happily, getting out two plates and a few napkins. I put a few slices on each of our plates and poured us some apple cider.

"How's your stomach ache, buddy?" I ask, handing him his food.

"It's a little better, but it still kind of hurts," he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.

I'm about to say something, but he cuts me off. "How was your meeting, mom?" I smile widely and ruffle his hair, "I...got the job!" 

He smiles too and inches closer to me. "I knew you'd get it anyway," he says, "You're a very good artist."