floral

"Those words sound a little familiar; are they from the song snippet you sent me the other day?" You questioned, tilting your head against the crinkle of plastic as a beam of sun came into view.

"Might have to call the song Flower Girl," she said with such smoothness of her tongue, eyes filled with confidence before concern as she caught you with your lip between your teeth, the buzzing beginning as the machine neared closer towards your skin.

The Ghanaian girl pouted out her own, red gloss catching it's on glimmer from the sunlight, and winded her thumb in tiny circles as it caressed the crease between your own and your pointer finger.

One camera stood prompted right at her face, another further off to the side, ready to catch a different angle of the possible reactions of the Ghanaian girl. She sat calm and collected, flipping through pages of her beloved journal as the cameras caught her eyes, lightening up and a downturning smile when they caught different portions.

"So, Manon," the voice behind the screen began to speak, deeper yet with a gentle tinge as they took in the girl hurriedly flipping further, brief scribbles of dark ink catching the camera's lens. "What is it like to look back at your journal now near the end of the competition? You've made it to the top ten."

"Uh," and an uncomfortable chuckle leaves the girl's glossed lips, eyes widening with clear shocked energy as she looks over towards the person. "Reading this back was shocking."

"What were your journal entries like back when you first arrived with the girls?"

"It's filled with a lot of nervous energy back then," she scrounges back tens of pages to get to the beginning moments, the first few pieces apart of the book. "I got this to help to personally document my experience through all this, so it definitely includes irrational and frantic thoughts." There is a brief pause, her eyes looking and reading throughout the pages as one braid falls to the front of her features. "But a lot of the girls were nice in the beginning; it did not start out with a lot of drama. I remember meeting Nayoung, who was fairly new and Daniela! She had made some joke that didn't go over really well but the fact that it didn't made it funnier. Soon enough, I was introduced to Y/N; she made it like a duty to make me comfortable."

"How so?"

"She helped me unpack and listened to me blab on about my life at home while she shared some stuff about her own and a bit about her fears of coming. Leaving everything behind is really frightening when you don't even know if it will be worth it in the end. I had thoughts like those sometimes, but I felt deep down that I would make it so it didn't come up much." Manon brushed her braid back, sticking a nail between the pages to bring about a random page. "There was a time with some drama; I remember being so nervous but she just held my hand and walked in as if nothing bothered her, keeping me along with her. I feel like since then, especially, we've just always been side by side."

"Would you say you're closest to Y/N here?"

"For sure, she is one of the ones I'm closest with; I can't even think about not debuting with her. It'd be so weird, like wrong."

"Come here!" Sophie whined, the liquid in her glass swishing about as she wobbled on the larger heels, rushing to pull Manon over to the chairs. "No more talking; it's time for drinking!"

"Sophie," Manon laughed, itching the side of her face as she looked her friend up and down. "Might want to start slowing down, Soph."

"Thanks, Mama Manzanita!" She laughed, one that was so short it turned into a whole laughing attack that she nearly dropped her glass; more than half of its contents completely spilled upon the floor at this point. "Get in the party mood, I am!" The music is blasting all about; Manon could barely hear her close conversation with you only minutes earlier. The place is filled with vibrant twentysomething year olds bumping to the pounding beats with different colors of streams of lights seeping through every which way.

"I can't leave Y/N," Manon tries to tell her friend, sitting her on the torn cushion to then take the glass and put it on the wobbly table in front. "I was not expecting it to be crazy tonight. I was thinking something more simple."

"But it's always Y/n this and Y/n that," Sophie grabs both of Manon's arms, almost pulling her on top of her. "What about me? I miss you; you're going to forget about me soon." She whines in her drunken stupor, clearly emotions heightened from the extra liquor.

"Never," Manon shakes her head, a smile now creeping up on her lips as she brushes away a few baby strands from the girl's face, makeup losing its vibrancy. "Y/n is a different kind of friend, like a different kind of feeling, Soph," she winks.

"Oh?" Sophie looks heavily perplexed before she lightly hits her cheek. "Oh! Trust me, I'm going to be the best wing woman ever," she whipped her head around, ponytail smacking Manon in the face. "Y/n! Y/n!" She repeatedly yells, "Get over here."

With uneasy hands, Sophie tries to halt herself up, stealing one of the drinks from the table with a quick gulp before basically falling into you.

"Go get by Manon on that bench right now!" Sophie demands, standing back away from you and pushing you off into the distance. "I need a good picture out of tonight, so Y/N, sit on the bench, good, and Manon, sit on the top behind her! Yes!" The photographer in her takes over the wasted part, guiding you two into the pose that could've taken over the internet, one where Manon slides her hands to lie on your shoulder with your face looking up and hers looking down.

The shot that the girl gets starts wobbled, but one out of the ten ends up clear, clear that either you two are true professionals or truly have a special extra feeling for one another.

"It's so crazy in here," you whisper, your eyes still keeping their steady gaze on the woman above you. "Sophie sure likes to party."

"I mean everyone does," Manon adds, her head moving ever so slightly down towards you, lips reaching closer and closer, and eyelashes filled with the darkened dye that is more noticeable now. It's like a rush of flames that wanders about your skin, leaving goosebumps in its trace. It's addicting the way you subtly try to lift your head ever so higher, a bit closer, just a bit more.

"Bro, everyone is asking about the other girls!" Dani turned towards Manon, shaking her head at the comments that she read off the screen, different ones asking about all the different members. Asking where they were, if they could join, if they were working on new music.

"Just appreciate us!" Manon pretended to fake crying, dragging her hands down her face in a ploy of being distressed. "We clearly serve more with the lives. People always want more."

"Some of the girls are out, and some are at home," Dani answered, dragging her finger down the phone to scroll through more comments. "We are going out soon to meet up with some of the others. That's why Manon has to hurry up with her hair already!"

"Chill, beauty takes time," Manon swished her ponytail in Dani's face, picking up the brush with a helping of gel to smooth back some hairs.

"Y/N is here, probably lounging around in her room," Dani replied, sitting back from where she once sat on her knees. "Who do you think pulls the most?" She read aloud.

"Easy," Manon scoffed.

"Me." They both spoke at the same time, heads quickly spinning towards one another with incredulous looks.

"Yeah, right, you can't even pull the g-" Manon clamped a hand over Dani's mouth, which Dani's own hand followed in tandem. "Anyways," she smiled once both were removed.

Manon let her eyes glide through the comments, now seeming to flood in quicker at their little stunt but she ignored the speculations and tried to keep to ones that would not get her yelled at by her manager or worse, Sophia. "I love watching the edits and seeing artwork; it's all so good. You guys are truly talented."

"Oh, that painting of Y/N and Manon goes crazy," Dani points out the comment mentioning a painting of the two; it had recently blown up all over their Twitter, watching different fan pages go crazy over the quality and seemingly the deeper feelings behind it.

"Don't get me started," Manon chirped up, leaning over excitedly as she panned the phone a little more towards her. It was seriously so gorgeous! They had me looking so valorent, and Y/n looked stunningly soft."

"And it was a huge ship post," Dani clarified, trying to keep her voice lower, yet instead, it seemed to come out at the same tone.

"Wait, really?" Manon whispered back, shock etched into her features, before imagining the piece again and the different details apart of it. "That's actually crazy how the eyekons can-"

"Be quiet!" Sophia swung the door open, shaking her head in the background as both girls fell silent. "You two should not be on live!"

"We're having fun, mom," Manon whined, placing her hands together in a pleading motion while looking back up to her. "Please!"

"Sophia is freaking out in our room," you popped your head into the bedroom. "She's going to pass out from fear."

"Baby y/n!" Daniela cheered, standing up to try and drag you into frame. "Everyone's asking how one of the youngest in the group is doing."

"I'm not even the youngest!" You quickly reminded everyone, crossing your arms at your waist in faux frustration. "This is silly."

"Ever since that clip of your pout went around, you're being called baby," Manon told you, allowing you to sit in the middle of them both, one leg practically over Manon's. "My baby y/n," the girl taunted, squeezing at your cheeks.

"Our baby!" Daniela corrected as she squeezed at your other one.

The phone was carefully angled to hit over your features instead of the girl who sat a few feet away tapping loudly at her own computer playing a new game on Roblox. The redhead completed such actions with a lot of spunk, music blasting from the headphones that wrapped around her ears, as this was her choice to spend her downtime. You just laughed occasionally as she muttered little things to herself, letting your eyes take a peek at her form before finding their way back to the screen.

"Yes, there will be new music before you know it!" You responded proudly, picking up the mascara that lay haphazardly at your desk. Other makeup products spilled about as you comfortably took your time getting ready. "I cannot say more; I am not Manon," you laughed, a fellow comment talking about how the said girl always seemed to be on the brim of revealing more than needed.

You screwed open the pink tube, lightly dragging the brush against your eyelashes, fingers clad with golden rings as the jewelry part of your outfit had already been assembled. Once you were finished, you used your unoccupied fingers to flick through the comments. "I do know Sophie; she is funny," you laughed in remembrance of hectic times with the sporadic woman. "Her and Meret make a good pair," you smiled lightly. The comments seemed to speed up slightly, questioning if that was a subtle move to ship the two women, an action you definitely were not trying to portray.

"No! No," you raised your hands up in a type of defense, frantically trying to clarify what you had previously meant. "It makes sense why they are good friends, that is all." Yet a comment from a certain 'Ynonlvr' caught your eye, writing, "See how she defended that one quick, possessive Y/n peaking through.". It was a comment you couldn't help but softly smile at, a memory of just how much this specific woman played a toll on your heart.

A specifically patterned knock was placed at the wood of your door, creeping you away from such thoughts but just enlarging the smile on your features. You scooted in closer to the camera, hands cupped around your lips as you leaned in. "You are all going to be excited to see who is here!" you turned towards the door, raising your voice "Come in! I am live."

"Hello gorgeous!" Manon swung the door open, dropping down to her knees so that she could lightly push you, fitting herself into the frame. "Oh no, I was not speaking to Y/N. I was obviously speaking to you, eyekons," the Ghanian girl spoke, winking towards the camera before throwing one arm around you to pull you close again. She turned her head to the side, leaning up to her ear so that you could feel the soft, hot breath that was let out before she spoke. "Let's go get going; I've got a surprise!"

"Oh?" You looked over at her, eyes glancing up and down in faux disbelief. "Really now?" Her eyes, though, were captivated by the comments, ones rolling in explaining that the scene was somewhat sensual and fulfilling their Ynon addiction.

"Well," she stood back up on her feet, outfit all glammed with a stunning pair of shoes to match. "I am glad you eyekons are feeling the outfit, as am I." She placed a hand on your head, looking down to make sure you got the unsaid message to hurry up. "I gotta go now, and soon will Y/N!" She placed her attention back fully onto you, removing the hand. "See you soon; love you through and through," she stepped out the door, peeking her head back in once again. "Hurry!"

You scrounged around with your makeup products, trying to put some back in their respective places while looking for the needed ones. As the brush bristles of your bigger brush danced against the pink pigments of your Fenty blush, you tried to answer some last remaining comments.

"A lot of people actually ask about that," you dragged the makeup brush against your skin. "The whole 'love you through and through' is like how people will say 'love you to the moon and back'; it is just a little more personal addition. Like throughout it all, we will be there; our love will be there."

"What? You guys are so bad at this! And my zit is not big, not like the one on your nose" He laughed, looking around the room for acknowledgement of his words. "Roasted!"

"Oh Michael," Pam groaned from beside him, shaking her head in embarrassment.

"What? It was funny, she said-"

"Not cool," Oscar piped up, a look of disappointment on his features.

"Whatever," Michael lightly stomped, pinning the attention back onto him. "Okay, last hint, it's lower."

"Michael?" You spoke up, sitting at your desk with your steaming cup of coffee and loading the computer screen across from you.

"Ah yes, y/n! You got it; go ahead."

"Don't tell me you're referring to," your eyes widen, trying to show an indication to a lower area past his waistline far from being appropriate.

"I don't think you should be talking about enlargement medication in the workplace," Jim was quick to chip in, not before sending you a little glare and then delivering the sentence with complete seriousness and tone that seemed to represent concern.

Groans erupted around the room of disgust, shaking their heads or covering their eyes, besides an overly curious Meredith, who took a few steps forward.

"Michael, that is beyond being appropriate for work and truly very sinful." Angela emphasized.

"You all ruined this completely appropriate work guessing game! Now I'll just have to tell you which ruins all the fun." He grumbled, reaching up to hold out a small pin on his shirt. "I got a new pin to support the new business in the building. It's of the sign Aries because that is what I am!"

"That's great, Michael." You put up a fake, small smile, nodding to the man before spinning back to start typing at your screen.

"See! Thank you for someone understanding the excitement. Alright, now all back to work, except I will need to see my best man in my office." Michael shot finger guns in front of him, landing between the two men.

"Coming!" Dwight voiced, rushing to stand closer to Michael's new position near his office door.

"I was referring to Jim," his voice trailed off. "But you can come too."

"Would you want me to come too, Michael?" Kevin questioned, standing tall at his desk.

"Oh no, no, we are good," He waved his hands back and forth in means of denial.

"If I'm not out in five, I'll need backup," Jim muttered to you, a small giggle leaving at his comment. "I'm serious, L/N."

"No, of course, of course, I'll be there!" You jokingly saluted him.

"You're one of the good ones, he sent one of his classic looks to the cameras, moving to walk into Michael's office. 

"What did I mean by that?" Jim sits in the uncomfortable chair, opened blinds behind him as he speaks to the camera for the confessional. "Well, it's just a joke, a saying."

There are mumbles that errupt behind the camera and a slight zoom in to where you are seated at your desk, working diligently, hair falling a bit messily around your face.

"Y/n is just different from everyone else. I mean, that is pretty obvious; you guys have even seen these guys," He let out a small chuckle, scratching at the back of his neck. "She's kinder but not so kind that she can't make a quick quip back when needed. I mean, she's super dedicated and looks cute even—that doesn't matter. She's just different."

"So, I've gathered you both here today to discuss a very serious matter." Michael sat at his desk, hands clasped together, as he stared down at the two men in front of him. "The economy is turning into all these big companies, and it's not okay! We need to help the small business; it is our duty as a company for the people!"

"You do realize we are now a fairly large company ourselves?" Jim reminded his boss.

"See, that proves why we have to help the little man out. Lucille, the wonderful woman who created this specialty pin just for me -"

"It looks like a generic zodiac sign pin." Dwight put his hands on the desk, pushing his chest forward so that his face could get a more upclose look at the pin on Michael's suit.

"No, Dwight, it's a specialty. Men, Lucille needs our help, and luckily enough, for us, she can help us too. It's too tense in this office with all the ups and downs the bigwigs are putting us through. We need a little fun. She does special fortune-telling sessions and I think we bring her in."

"Michael, if I may?" Dwight raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"If this is done on company time, it is vastly irresponsible and also fortune tellers are fake."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Jim asked, highly interested in the conversation now.

"Obviously, my Aunt Sherlie's basement was haunted with her Uncle Lenord, my great uncle. He was a dangerous man so sparks always flew from the wiring down there."

"No more aunts and uncles," Michael waved his hand, snapping Dwight out of his thoughts before he kept rambling on. "Jim, what do you think?"

"I don't think it's great."

"Don't you want to know about your future? Who will you soon date? Who you'll be getting it on with?"

A knock at his door stopped the sounds of distaste leaving from those across from him. Michael got up and opened the door to where you stood with a kind smile, quickly eyeing Jim before looking back at your boss.

"There seems to be someone needing to speak to you at the front door of the building. He called on the phone and I answered it since Pam is in the bathroom."

"Oh, okay," Michael turned back to the men. "Alright, think long and hard!" He moved out of his office to go and find the mystery caller.

"Did they say a name? It could be dangerous if not," Dwight commented, concern etched on his features.

"Maybe you should go with him for protection," you innocently replied, moving over to take the seat Dwight once occupied with his frame rushing after Michael. "So, loyal soldier here to save."

"Quick on your feet, L/N, impressive," Jim complimented. "Things are getting dangerous. Michael wants to invite the new lady with the fortune business to do a fortune telling for the whole office."

"The one he got the pin from?"

"Exactly."

"That could be interesting; do you believe in that stuff Halpert?"

"Oh, I read my daily horoscope always in the papers." You both laughed at his sarcasm. "No, he just wants her because she's hot."

"Oh?" You questioned, your voice faltering in the slightest, which caused you to try and cough it off. "She's hot?"

"Well, you know?"

"What?"

"Micheal thinks everyone but Meredith and Phyliss are hot. Anyone under thirty-five."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?" It felt to Jim as if he were sweating at this moment, hands being wiped repeatedly against his pants leg as he prayed to get out of this sinking hole.

"Find her hot?" You leaned in very close to his figure, your face much closer to his and there was a slight expansion of the top part of your shirt, allowing more skin of the upper area to be exposed. Though you or him didn't say anything more as the door was swung back open and you quickly sat back with a fired-up Michael and Dwight rolling in.

"There was no one there!" Dwight was quick to tell you.

"That's so weird!" You stood up, walking over to the front door. "I swear there was this really convincing voice over the phone," you trailed off, pretending to be lost in thought. "Wait, you don't think...?"

"Think what?" Michael wondered in response.

"Well, that new girl has her business now; what if the spirits followed her and it was a ghost?"

"That seems highly plausible," Dwight nodded at your assumption. "They are known to follow those that associate with them. Michael, it could be dangerous messing with her."

It felt as though there was an awkward air between you and Jim the rest of the day. He would try to make little jokes but they just weren't landing the right way or had the same amount of comedic timing as all of his other pieces. It was so oblviant that even Pam had caught on to the off nature that Jim was exuding. Luckily for Pam, she could read her best friend like a book, cutting it up to an awkward interaction that he must've had with you.

"It isn't that bad," she shrugged, collecting a few leaves of the lettuce in her bowl and catching some extra dressing and tomato onto her fork.

"Really?" Jim looked at her as if she were lying, chomping on his tuna salad sandwich after. "She was not herself and I felt..."

"You felt what?"

"Weird."

"Would you feel weird if it was, let's say, Angela? Like if she seemed out of character?" Pam pointed her fork at him, now filled with a new bite of salad.

"Well, no, not really. What are you trying to say?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Pam laughed at the camera, sending it an incredulous look. "Obviously, I'm trying to get Jim to recognize his agonizing crush on the girl. I'm his best friend; of course it's plain in sight for me."

"Well, Pam," the camera panned over to where Andy sat, one eyebrow raised, and his legs crossed. "Tuna and I go way back. We are practically brothers in a way. So, I, of course, as his brother from another mother, can tell he digs her. One time Angela made a comment about her outfit and Jim was like some scary monster!"

"It wasn't that bad." Pam looked at Andy, shaking her head with a weirded-out expression. She then angled over back to the camera, "He was pretty angry though; put her on the spot real quickly!"

"I am thrilled you all could make it today!" Michael cheered, standing in front of the conference room with his hand wide and the classic white board written on with 'Let's go psycho for the psychic!"

"You said this was mandatory," Stanley commented, flipping to another page of his crossword.

"Well, you still could have decided not to come," Michael tried to explain.

"You said you wouldn't pay us if we didn't," Ryan reminded him.

"Actually, due to the business policies, Michael isn't allowed to withhold pay for those not attending this," Toby quickly explained to the group.

"If I could withhold pay, yours would be first," Michael grumbled, shaking his head before putting back on his cheery expression. "Okay, fine, if you don't want to be here, then leave." He sighed.

Immediately at his words, Stanley, Creed, Meredith, Ryan, Kevin, Oscar, and Angela left the room. Kevin was visibly disapointed in the lack of refreshments for the occasion, Angela with the unholyness of such an event, and the others all their own reasoning. You stood up to exit, but the man besides you—Jim—reached up to hold you by the wrist, sending a pleading glare to stay. Which you answered by taking back your seat.

"Well, fine, we don't need those haters!" Michael yelled the last word louder, hoping those outside of the conference room would hear. "Now, who came up with this?" He pointed to the whiteboard.

"I did," Phyllis shyly raised her hand, a small smile on her lips. "I was talking about it with Bob, my husband, and he thought it was pretty creative."

"Well, that doesn't mean anything," Michael rolled his eyes, crossing out the 'psycho' and rewriting on top of it 'happy'.

"Let's go happy for psychics?" Pam read the board.

"We want Lucille to know we are happy, not insult her." Michael explained, smiling proudly at his work.

"Isn't it true that all psychics are psycho?" Dwight had spoken up, though unfortunately his words were poorly timed, as at the same moment the woman in question opened the door into the conference room carrying a filled purple sack.

"Oh, really now?" she questioned, heaving over while trying to lift the gigantic bag, basically dragging it now into the room. Michael quickly stepped over, trying to take the bag from her and sling it over his own shoulder but instead was not met with such luck, leaving him to have to drag it as well.

"I have spoken to fellow friends apart from my laser tag group; they have been in a few runs with witches like you."

"Well, I do not classify myself as a witch."

"Yeah, she looks nothing like one! She's really hot," Andy mentioned from the row behind you. The girl in question brushed some hair away, smiling graciously at his comment.

"Thank you," she accepted the compliment and began to pull out different materials onto the table, a crystal ball, a deck of cards, and multitudes of other random items.

"Do we really know how credible she is?" You leaned over, cupping your hand to whisper in Jim's ear. "Why is there a random shoelace?"

Your breath felt hot on his skin, sending shivers up his spine along with a rising pink that brushed over his cheeks. He tried to cover up his subtle laugh, earning a rude stare from the bossman himself.

"Let's get started," she cheered, Michael jumping up to be the first person to get his fortune read and engage in all the different activities that she was offering.

"So? Is she the hot girl you were wanting?" You let one hand rest on the armbench of the chair, placing your other arm on top and leaning over to give him a little stare, narrowing in on his expression as if you could decipher if he sees such attractiveness in the blonde in front.

"Woah, I never said I was wanting one," he quickly declined, waving his hands all around in order to express his deep feelings about not wanting the connection to this being his goal. "This was all Michael, all him wanting a hot girl."

"Wouldn't you want one?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, trying to catch the slight twinkle in your eye—the way you stared so deeply and paid close attention to his words. Soon enough, the both of you were shushed, as apparently Michael 'was getting deeply distracted' enough, 'deeply affecting Lucille's concentration'.

His session definitely played out the longest, continually picking out different things or questioning a simple sentence she said just to keep her attention on him for as long as available. Though her gaze kept slipping through to where you and Jim tried to keep your giggles on the down low. You both wrote on spare pieces of paper from your notebook, playing tik-tak-toe, scheming different pranks to pull on Dwight, and commenting on Dwights incessant comments about the legitimacy of her practices, and noticing Phyllis's large interest and passion to get more involved. You and the man were always able to find little ways to connect in those boring, unkown moments that working at such a paper mill brought along.

"I would say I'm sensing some spiritual pull between Jim and Y/n over here," Pam finally spoke aloud, her expression filled with deep boredom as she tried to write down all that Lucille was saying to Michael due to his orders. "What would you say, Miss Lucille?"

"You know," the girl turned to watch once more as the two of you bonded, soon enough looking back at Michael, who was still wanting more. "Hon, there are more people wanting to go," she patted the top of Michael's hand. "We should let them enjoy; I will have to go soon too."

"Well, okay, but if we have extra time we can loop back to me," Michael nodded, staring down at where her hand once touched his own.

"Alright, time to switch!" She announced with much excitement, eyes scanning the crowd as if to choose.

"I would love to go." Phyllis raised her hand, setting down the knitting gear that once preoccupied her time to the empty chair beside her.

"No, not you," Lucille dragged her hand across the multiple empty chairs as if she were looking back, deciding on who in the crowd to choose. "You," she pointed at Jim, who was pointing at something on the paper. He looked up to Lucille in utter shock, which furthered even more as she got up from her own place to pull him from the chair and into the one by her own.

"Oh, I am okay," he shook his head, reluctantly following her to the chair, giving a couple look backs at where you sat with a concerned expression. "I know Dwight, this guy over here," he pointed over to where the man sat with a scowl. "He would love to get some information on your business."

"No, I want you. I am sensing a multitude of energy from you—very hot, red energy," she dragged on, taking a look at him by dragging her eyes up and down his body. "The spirits are calling to me."

"Well, that is a little frightening," he uncomfortably laughed. She took his hands in hers, taking them and then soon comparing her size of hand to his.

"Wow, such strong, big hands. Clearly you are one destined for greatness."

"Uh," it was clear to almost anyone—except the psychic trying her very hardest to flirt and Michael, who was widely jealous—that Jim was not in the best place and very much searching for an avenue to get away.

"Oh Jim, we have to go make that call to the sales rep of Rocky's reps, that fitness center." You stood up, walking over to try and offer an opportunity so he could have an out.

"Just take it yourself," Lucille was quick to speak up, now looking you over. "Do your job?" she turned to Michael, putting on her best pouty face. "Michael, right?" The man in question nodded with much enthusiasm and pride. "It is important that I do Jim," she turned back to the man in question, "Is it?" to which he just stared at her as she switched back to Michael, "So then I can do you," she said flirtaously.

"Y/n, go take the call," Michael demanded, shooing you away, leaving Lucille with a victorious smile. You followed your boss's commands, leaving the conference room to see the rest of the office empty, and went to begin packing your things for the weekend to come.

"I should really be on thi-" Jim had tried to speak before Lucille pulled his hands to now touch the crystal ball, her hands encasing his on the cheap plastic.

"I am sensing something about your romantic life."

"Alright, tuna," Andy cheered.

"It seems that today you will be offered to make a move on one special beauty. The confidence will overtake you once you touch hands with the one who you are to be more with," her eyes winked over at him, rubbing his skin. "You are a lucky man."

"Well, that is enough." He pulled his hands away from the woman, stuffing them into his pockets as he got out of the chair. "I do not want to take away all the time because Michael hasn't even gotten to see your trick with that.." he leaned over to look at the assortment of odd products on the table. "Bean can?"

"Yes! You are right, Jimbo." Michael stood up quickly, taking Jim's seat and giving her the tuna can. "Now this looks fancy."

With this opportunity, Jim made a quick exit, heading to the office in hopes of finding you sitting. Unfortunately, you were gone from the area, so in response, he speedily packed up his things and rushed to make it to the front of the building. Once making it out to the cold, he noticed you standing by the door, one earbud in, arms wrapped around your body as you tried to keep as much heat in as possible.

"She definitely is not a real psychic," Jim laughed, coming up besides you as he still tried to button up the remaining buttons of his jacket. "I mean, there was a bean can." He waited for your response—a little laugh or quick quip back—but instead he was met with silence. "What's going on?" He put his hand on your shoulder to where you finally turned around to face him, little tears falling down your cheeks. "Y/n!"

"I am fine," you shook your head, trying to wipe the tears away with your mittens. "I am sorry for being odd lately."

"What is going on?"

"I do not know how to explain without making it weird," you fidgitied with your mittens, trying to pull it on and off until you slipped your grip and the acessory hit the ground. Both you and Jim bent over to grab it, hands touching one another before he grabbed it for you.

"Let me help," he said, taking your hand in his cold one, opening up the mitten so that you could push your fingers in. "You always have such trouble once you have the other one on," he lightly chuckled, one you now returned.

"Thanks," was all you replied with, looking down at the ground that began to pile up with snow. "You can go ahead; I am just waiting for a cab."

"I did not think she was hot," Jim admitted, now catching your attention so that you noticed his concerned look resonating on you. "She is not my type. To be honest, I like someone who is funny, where we share a connection and jokes."

"Oh."

"Someone I work with, desk right next to me. Someone who is widely specific in the routine for how she dresses for the outdoors, who is meticulous about her sandwhich choices, has a waterbottle filled with random stickers, and actually listens to Phyllis drain on and on about her relationship with Bob. Somehow."

"It is not easy," you grinned.

"I like you, L/N. Not Lucille, the fake psychic, or a random bartender at Poor Richards. I don't want them; I want you."

And to his confession, you were quick to place your covered hands on both of his cheeks, leaning his face down in order to place your lips upon his, a small snowflake methodically landing upon both of your noses at the special moment. It was nothing long, but definitely said all that there needed to be, and with that, you two separated, cheesy grins taking over.

"I will admit, she is fake but she did say I would touch hands with someone beautiful and gain courage to express attraction. Maybe she knows what she is saying."

"Oh, quit it."

"I'm so sorry!" You mutter speedily, rushing forward to find anything in order to clean off the sticky liquid from her clothing. "I really hope it doesn't stain." You reach forward for a blanket on the leathered couch, wincing before using the fabric to try and clean off these other girls. Dropping to your own knees without truly thinking, you start patting her down with the blanket.

"It happens," the blonde in front of you whispers. She kneels down towards your level, where you have now found a rag and are trying to dry up her skirt. As her position moves, so do your hands along with your eyes that catch her own. "I haven't seen you at one of these."

"Well, I just recently moved out towards the city," you reveal, pulling back the blanket as you take in her words, soft and sweet falling from her lips that makes you shake your head at the little feeling it erupts in your belly.

"Oh?" She takes the blanket from your hand, discarding it off to the side and standing back up into a normal position. Smoothly, the Cuban girl reaches a hand down to take your own in hers, lifting you up back to regular height. "Who are you with?"

"With?" You look around at all the different people surrounding the area and soon enough realize there seems to be a bit of a divide between all the groups. "I just came with my friends."

"Yeah, but which group," she laughs, removing her hand from yours to push back the luscious curls framing her face. "The vortex?"

"The vortex?" You repeat in a questioning nature, slightly tipping your head in confusion. "Are they a band?"

"Wow, you really are new," she smiles, letting her eyes wander up and down your image. "What's your name?"

"Well, it's—" but before you can tell the new girl the answer to her desired question, Sophia comes running up to you out of breath and wrapping her hand around your wrist.

"Megan spotted him! Hurry before he leaves," and thus, with much urgency, you are dutifully pulled away from the enticing girl off to try and find the wanted man.

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