It's Like Rain (Orlando Bloom/OC)

Chapter 2: After The Beginning

“Do something you hate. Being miserable builds character.”

9.22 am I’m late for work. Again. All because of that - - that ass!

     When I stop at the red lights for the hundredth time during this stretch of a road, my phone starts to ring and with great deal of difficulty I dive into my back pack and find it.

     It’s Nora.

     “Where the hell are you?? We’re supposed to…” she begins her bitching, but instead of listening to that, I shout, “Green light! Got to go!”, and end the call and throw the phone to the seat next to me as the retinue of cars starts to move slowly. I’ll find out sooner rather than later what I’m supposed to be doing today. It’s bound to be something really icky, like cleaning out a monster diarrhea of an elephant. Possibly just that for sure.

     Next time Bloom can pass out on the streets for all I care. Maybe he needs to see himself passed out on a cover of some tabloid, until he sees the problem. I want my beauty sleep!

     Beauty sleep, my ass.

~::~

10.05 am I enter the office of Bronx Zoo over an hour late and both my boss and Nora start to howl at me. Normally, Nora is almost wickedly laid back by nature, and Harmon is the most decent boss I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, minus my biology professor, maybe. Although, he’s supposed to be like this from time to time. He really can’t stand tardiness. And there’s enough of re-tardiness to share in me after several nights of non-existent sleep. And Nora…? Well, I guess she just doesn’t want to dig into that diarrhea issue by herself.

     I could always try the ever so powerful truth, but doubt Harmon is interested in of all the dirty little details.

     “And now, if it is not too much to ask, get your ass at work!”

     Nope, he’s not interested.

     Nora steps to my side as our boss disappears from sight. Her curly reddish-black hair is lifted on top of her head and she manages to look picture perfect like always. Dark skin perfected with foundation. Even after all the years I’ve known her, I can’t help but wonder to whom she is putting all that make-up on for when she comes to work. The animals? I, on the other hand, look like an elephant’s behind, definitely blending in with the creatures. Huge circles around my eyes and my hair strangled in every possible meaning that word has to offer.

     She leans towards me and says, “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve got a Twinkie stashed away at home.”

     “Shut up.”

     “What? I think that is pretty reasonable chain of thoughts, when you come in over an hour late and look like crap. Means you didn’t get any sleep last night and you got up too late to get your shit together. You're not eating properly either. Unless you count some ‘Twinkie eating’,” Nora says smiling, “All things that in a good ‘Twinkie stashing’ relations requires.”

     “Go to hell, I’m not having a ‘Twinkie’ stashed away in anywhere,” I retort, not very convincingly, though.

     Crap. Why does she have to notice everything?

     Bloom is hardly a Twinkie. He's more like -- like triple chocolate brownie with whipped cream. Pun still unintended. I am just offering a required cupcake reference. I am not to blame when this reference turns into something twisted in some minds.