FF: HIGH GLOW - CHAPTER 9
Author's Notes:
1. Go here for previous part
2. The title of the chapter is from this Kaito song
3. Blame all the other fantastic writers in all the fandoms in all the world for my delayed writing! No, really, just too many great stories out there for me to keep up with reading...
____________________________________
FF: HIGH GLOW
CHAPTER 9: EVERLASTING
Andy never initiated contact with Miranda, but she had done so today. It was 8PM, and autumn had fully entered New York. The leaves had started changing color, the winds had picked up, and it was time for pea coats to be worn.
As she navigated the subway, and then the streets, Andy refused to think about exactly what she was attempting to do. A part of her screamed that this was too much, too much to actually verbalize. She didn’t even know what would happen, with the morbid part of her mind - a necessary holdover from her time working for Miranda - predicting a best-case result of total evisceration.
For Andy, self-preservation seemed to be a dwindling resource around Miranda.
And, finally, she was there, staring down the crisp white door of Miranda’s townhouse. Maybe Andy should have left a note at her apartment, in case Miranda chose to dispose of her body in the Hudson. A note to let Andy’s parents or friends or, hell, even the police - whomever first went looking for a sign of her - to know that had she disappeared, it was most likely that Andy had been incinerated by the sheer stupidity of the task upon which she had embarked.
Andy was quaking in her Steve Madden boots, but before her better judgment could intervene, she knocked on the door. Loudly, and twice.
After what seemed liked an interminable period, but in reality was less than a minute, the door slowly opened, and there stood Miranda, frowning but not with a thunderously unappealing expression that Andy had expected.
“Andrea. You’re early.”
Andy nearly smiled, but was afraid that she would start crying instead. So she kept it simple. “Yes. Sorry. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
Miranda said nothing, but instead opened the door wider, and walked away. Well, that was as resounding an invitation as any. Andy gingerly stepped in, glad to finally get some feeling back in her face after the combined forces of the autumnal winds and her own petrifying fear.
She followed Miranda into the study, her boots knocking loudly into the hardwood floors, and Andy counted the steps like she thought a death row prisoner would: these last few moments of breathing, worldliness, and humanity.
There were times when Andy was under Miranda’s employ that she thought the editrix would simply be the death of her; the great irony, Andy supposed, was that Miranda may well be that, but for the exact opposite reasons Andy had foresaw.
Miranda sat in that extremely comfortable Stickley chair she had at the corner of her study. Andy rememebered vaguely that the chair had moved; the last time Andy was in this room, it had been in the opposite corner.
Miranda only raised her eyebrow, a prompt which Andy had never misread. So she swallowed her sanity, and opened her mouth. “I need your opinion.”
Miranda’s expression did not change. “Yes, I evinced as much from your text. By the way, while I understand that’s the form of communication that people use these days, I’m convinced that Runway should do a piece on the deplorable nature of it.”
Andy refused to be derailed. “Yes, I know. Sorry. But…I have a job offer,” she blurted instead, feeling the blood drain from her face.
Miranda’s eyebrow rose again. “Are congratulations in offer? Especially given the economic climate?”
Andy jammed her jaws together. “It’s in California.”
Miranda said nothing for a moment, but looked away at the vase of calla lilies on her desk. “I see.”
“I wasn’t actively looking, but they noticed some of my work apparently, and they called last week. And it all moved much faster than I ever expected. I’m not sure it’s even settled in. I mean, I don’t even think this is reality, it just seems so surreal.”
“You’re rambling, Andrea.”
Andy stiffened, but she would go down fighting, even if it were pointless. “I need your opinion.”
“You haven’t mentioned which establishment has offered you the opportunity. I’d think that, and the role they’ve specified should help you make the decision.”
Goddammit. Andy knew, she just knew that it would be too much to expect a scintilla of, well, anything. So if this was her fate, her humiliation, she might as well make it her last one at the hands of this woman. Andy squared her jaw, and she suddenly felt a small flicker of pleasure at the curveball she was about to throw. “The LA Times. Junior Editor of the City desk.”
Something untoward briefly flashed in Miranda's eyes, and then the nonchalance was back as she picked at an nonexistent piece of lint on her skirt. “Well. That’s certainly a step up. What ever did you need my opinion for?”
Andy didn’t know how sky divers felt - she had a fear of heights - and she didn’t know if this was what hari kari felt like, but she was sure the ground was going to split open and ruin Miranda’s perfect wooden floors, and swallow up Andy in one big gulp.
Instead, Andy took one tiny step closer to the Stickley. “Tell me not to go, and I won’t.”
Miranda’s head whipped up to meet to Andy’s eyes. “Why would I tell you to stay, Andrea?”
“For the same reason I’m asking you to. For the same reason that no matter how many of your events I attend, the only way I can remember anyone else there is if they gave me their business card. For the same reason that you invite me, someone who could be nothing more than a failed experiment, to the most select parties in the city.”
Miranda said nothing, but stared at Andy for so long that the young woman was sure Miranda was only thinking about where to dump the body.
Miranda’s tone was silky. “Do you doubt my ability to be generous?”
Andy stepped off the cliff, into the void. “I’m saying I care. And I’m asking whether you do.” The fact that Andy had to spell everything out infuriated her, but she knew better than to expect Miranda to connect the dots of the larger picture given that Miranda seemingly wanted to continue whatever endless game they were playing. But Andy had run out of time.
Miranda jaw moved slightly, as if she were buying time. “Helena must be thrilled.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“About the job, or about…?”
Andy clenched her jaw. “Either. Both.”
Miranda narrowed her eyes. “So she’s a second choice?”
Andy gulped. “I didn’t say that I feel good about doing this, but, in a way, it’s honest. It’s what I’ve been feeling, and I needed to say it.”
Miranda sniffed but it was without rancor. “I will never understand why people feel that ‘being honest’ is an excuse for inflicting needless damage.”
Andy had had enough. She took another infinitesimal step closer to Miranda. “Miranda. Just tell me.”
Miranda unexpectedly rose, uncoiling herself from the chair, and approached Andy with a force that left the younger woman breathless. Almost as if she couldn’t help herself, Miranda raised her fingers to cup Andy’s jaw, leaving the brunette slack-jawed in shock.
Miranda smiled, and it wasn’t entirely kind. “You are beautiful, and young, and talented. The very same traits that drew me to you were what enchanted Helena as well. But I know where this will go; at first, the sense of hope will seem infinite, as if the past were not prelude, and then reality would slither in, like water between crevices.”
Miranda dropped her hand, and took a step sideways, turning away from Andy. “You have a future, Andrea, which should remain untainted by an all-consuming love affair, whomever that be with. You only have a few years to truly make your mark before the plateauing begins. You should remain unhindered. Untethered.”
Miranda leaned her hands against her massive desk, as if all the energy had suddenly seeped out of her, as if the weight of releasing her own desires into the air had rendered her weak.
Andy was immobile for a few moments, unable to let it all sink it. Her voice shook, and no matter how much she swallowed against the lump in her throat, the quaver remained. “I think that’s the nicest way I’ve ever been dumped.”
The fury and, to a certain extent, the humiliation of being rebuffed sank like a stone within Andy. But she wouldn’t regret her courage, her need for veracity; just because the very same things that made her professional buoyant didn’t translate into the same results in her personal life were no reason for self-flagellation.
Andy cleared her throat. “You may be absolutely right in everything you said, Miranda, but you’re still a coward. And, for that, I will never look at you the same.”
Miranda breathed deeply, ready to lash out, to unleash her anger, the bubbling injustice that was crawling through her esophagus, but she tamped down on the acidity at the base of her throat through sheer force of will. Instead she closed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and breathed strongly through her nose.
In the distance, she heard the sounds of Andrea’s boots as they walked away, the noise filtering away like a receding threat that had tried to breach Miranda.
Miranda opened her eyes, looked down at the hands on her desk, and noticed that they were shaking ever so slightly. She curled them into fists, and pushed away from the table.
She was certain that this too would pass.
-- TBC
1. Go here for previous part
2. The title of the chapter is from this Kaito song
3. Blame all the other fantastic writers in all the fandoms in all the world for my delayed writing! No, really, just too many great stories out there for me to keep up with reading...
____________________________________
FF: HIGH GLOW
CHAPTER 9: EVERLASTING
Andy never initiated contact with Miranda, but she had done so today. It was 8PM, and autumn had fully entered New York. The leaves had started changing color, the winds had picked up, and it was time for pea coats to be worn.
As she navigated the subway, and then the streets, Andy refused to think about exactly what she was attempting to do. A part of her screamed that this was too much, too much to actually verbalize. She didn’t even know what would happen, with the morbid part of her mind - a necessary holdover from her time working for Miranda - predicting a best-case result of total evisceration.
For Andy, self-preservation seemed to be a dwindling resource around Miranda.
And, finally, she was there, staring down the crisp white door of Miranda’s townhouse. Maybe Andy should have left a note at her apartment, in case Miranda chose to dispose of her body in the Hudson. A note to let Andy’s parents or friends or, hell, even the police - whomever first went looking for a sign of her - to know that had she disappeared, it was most likely that Andy had been incinerated by the sheer stupidity of the task upon which she had embarked.
Andy was quaking in her Steve Madden boots, but before her better judgment could intervene, she knocked on the door. Loudly, and twice.
After what seemed liked an interminable period, but in reality was less than a minute, the door slowly opened, and there stood Miranda, frowning but not with a thunderously unappealing expression that Andy had expected.
“Andrea. You’re early.”
Andy nearly smiled, but was afraid that she would start crying instead. So she kept it simple. “Yes. Sorry. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
Miranda said nothing, but instead opened the door wider, and walked away. Well, that was as resounding an invitation as any. Andy gingerly stepped in, glad to finally get some feeling back in her face after the combined forces of the autumnal winds and her own petrifying fear.
She followed Miranda into the study, her boots knocking loudly into the hardwood floors, and Andy counted the steps like she thought a death row prisoner would: these last few moments of breathing, worldliness, and humanity.
There were times when Andy was under Miranda’s employ that she thought the editrix would simply be the death of her; the great irony, Andy supposed, was that Miranda may well be that, but for the exact opposite reasons Andy had foresaw.
Miranda sat in that extremely comfortable Stickley chair she had at the corner of her study. Andy rememebered vaguely that the chair had moved; the last time Andy was in this room, it had been in the opposite corner.
Miranda only raised her eyebrow, a prompt which Andy had never misread. So she swallowed her sanity, and opened her mouth. “I need your opinion.”
Miranda’s expression did not change. “Yes, I evinced as much from your text. By the way, while I understand that’s the form of communication that people use these days, I’m convinced that Runway should do a piece on the deplorable nature of it.”
Andy refused to be derailed. “Yes, I know. Sorry. But…I have a job offer,” she blurted instead, feeling the blood drain from her face.
Miranda’s eyebrow rose again. “Are congratulations in offer? Especially given the economic climate?”
Andy jammed her jaws together. “It’s in California.”
Miranda said nothing for a moment, but looked away at the vase of calla lilies on her desk. “I see.”
“I wasn’t actively looking, but they noticed some of my work apparently, and they called last week. And it all moved much faster than I ever expected. I’m not sure it’s even settled in. I mean, I don’t even think this is reality, it just seems so surreal.”
“You’re rambling, Andrea.”
Andy stiffened, but she would go down fighting, even if it were pointless. “I need your opinion.”
“You haven’t mentioned which establishment has offered you the opportunity. I’d think that, and the role they’ve specified should help you make the decision.”
Goddammit. Andy knew, she just knew that it would be too much to expect a scintilla of, well, anything. So if this was her fate, her humiliation, she might as well make it her last one at the hands of this woman. Andy squared her jaw, and she suddenly felt a small flicker of pleasure at the curveball she was about to throw. “The LA Times. Junior Editor of the City desk.”
Something untoward briefly flashed in Miranda's eyes, and then the nonchalance was back as she picked at an nonexistent piece of lint on her skirt. “Well. That’s certainly a step up. What ever did you need my opinion for?”
Andy didn’t know how sky divers felt - she had a fear of heights - and she didn’t know if this was what hari kari felt like, but she was sure the ground was going to split open and ruin Miranda’s perfect wooden floors, and swallow up Andy in one big gulp.
Instead, Andy took one tiny step closer to the Stickley. “Tell me not to go, and I won’t.”
Miranda’s head whipped up to meet to Andy’s eyes. “Why would I tell you to stay, Andrea?”
“For the same reason I’m asking you to. For the same reason that no matter how many of your events I attend, the only way I can remember anyone else there is if they gave me their business card. For the same reason that you invite me, someone who could be nothing more than a failed experiment, to the most select parties in the city.”
Miranda said nothing, but stared at Andy for so long that the young woman was sure Miranda was only thinking about where to dump the body.
Miranda’s tone was silky. “Do you doubt my ability to be generous?”
Andy stepped off the cliff, into the void. “I’m saying I care. And I’m asking whether you do.” The fact that Andy had to spell everything out infuriated her, but she knew better than to expect Miranda to connect the dots of the larger picture given that Miranda seemingly wanted to continue whatever endless game they were playing. But Andy had run out of time.
Miranda jaw moved slightly, as if she were buying time. “Helena must be thrilled.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“About the job, or about…?”
Andy clenched her jaw. “Either. Both.”
Miranda narrowed her eyes. “So she’s a second choice?”
Andy gulped. “I didn’t say that I feel good about doing this, but, in a way, it’s honest. It’s what I’ve been feeling, and I needed to say it.”
Miranda sniffed but it was without rancor. “I will never understand why people feel that ‘being honest’ is an excuse for inflicting needless damage.”
Andy had had enough. She took another infinitesimal step closer to Miranda. “Miranda. Just tell me.”
Miranda unexpectedly rose, uncoiling herself from the chair, and approached Andy with a force that left the younger woman breathless. Almost as if she couldn’t help herself, Miranda raised her fingers to cup Andy’s jaw, leaving the brunette slack-jawed in shock.
Miranda smiled, and it wasn’t entirely kind. “You are beautiful, and young, and talented. The very same traits that drew me to you were what enchanted Helena as well. But I know where this will go; at first, the sense of hope will seem infinite, as if the past were not prelude, and then reality would slither in, like water between crevices.”
Miranda dropped her hand, and took a step sideways, turning away from Andy. “You have a future, Andrea, which should remain untainted by an all-consuming love affair, whomever that be with. You only have a few years to truly make your mark before the plateauing begins. You should remain unhindered. Untethered.”
Miranda leaned her hands against her massive desk, as if all the energy had suddenly seeped out of her, as if the weight of releasing her own desires into the air had rendered her weak.
Andy was immobile for a few moments, unable to let it all sink it. Her voice shook, and no matter how much she swallowed against the lump in her throat, the quaver remained. “I think that’s the nicest way I’ve ever been dumped.”
The fury and, to a certain extent, the humiliation of being rebuffed sank like a stone within Andy. But she wouldn’t regret her courage, her need for veracity; just because the very same things that made her professional buoyant didn’t translate into the same results in her personal life were no reason for self-flagellation.
Andy cleared her throat. “You may be absolutely right in everything you said, Miranda, but you’re still a coward. And, for that, I will never look at you the same.”
Miranda breathed deeply, ready to lash out, to unleash her anger, the bubbling injustice that was crawling through her esophagus, but she tamped down on the acidity at the base of her throat through sheer force of will. Instead she closed her eyes, clenched her jaw, and breathed strongly through her nose.
In the distance, she heard the sounds of Andrea’s boots as they walked away, the noise filtering away like a receding threat that had tried to breach Miranda.
Miranda opened her eyes, looked down at the hands on her desk, and noticed that they were shaking ever so slightly. She curled them into fists, and pushed away from the table.
She was certain that this too would pass.
-- TBC