Bad Day

Lylah frantically rummaged through her closet, the ticking clock seemed to mock her, each passing second a harsh reminder that she was running perilously late for the most important conference of her career.

The air was thick with the scent of her sweat, even after washing down for the second time that day, and it was just a few minutes past 12 in the afternoon.

Her fingers flew through the rows of clothes, rejecting each outfit with a dismissive swish of her hand. Where was that one dress, the one that made her feel invincible?

She didn't want to struggle with her choice of clothes and that was why she unpacked her clothes from the suitcase into the wardrobe.

She snatched a glance at the clock on her nightstand, and her heart sank. Thirty minutes. She was thirty minutes late,she had less than 5 minutes to transform herself from a chaotic mess into a poised professional.

The sound of her own ragged breathing was the only soundtrack as she seized the cream-colored pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse she had worn triumphantly to the Smith account meeting. The ones that had landed her the Liaison project, proceeding to this conference in the first place.

As she yanked the blouse over her head, a button popped off, rolling under the bed with a tiny, taunting click. She didn't have time for this.

With a muttered curse, she tossed the blouse aside and grabbed another, this one a baby-pink, that would have to do. The skirt was next, zipped and buttoned with a speed that would have impressed a teenager on a Saturday morning.

Her hair, still damp from the shower, was a tangled mess. She dragged a brush through it, wincing as the bristles caught on knots. A few savage tugs later, it was pulled back into a tight, professional bun. She reminded herself to get braids when she was free.

Mascara and lipstick were applied with a speed that would have horrified her makeup artist friend. She looked...fine. Not perfect, but fine.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she sprinted to the door, grabbing her bag and laptop.

The gold earrings on the glass table flickered before her eyes.

She rolled her eyes, then quickly grabbed the earrings and walked out of her suite.

Lylah darted through the hallway, weaving past people without slowing down.

Her heels clicked rapidly against the floor as she rushed along the corridor.

A big frown embraced Lylah's delicate features. Her day seemed determined to worsen as the day dragged on. As if on cue for yet another misfortune, she twisted her foot and collided with what felt like a hard, chiseled wall.

"No, walls don't just appear in the middle of hallways", she thought.

"Ouch", she winced, the sting in her knuckles pulling her back to the moment. Then, glancing down, she noticed the small droplets of chocolate splattered across her blouse.

Her gaze trailed up,and froze. The "wall" wasn't a wall at all. It was a man. A very solid, very real man, standing right in her way.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, exasperation flaring in her chest. "Of course. Because my day clearly wasn't bad enough already." She brushed at the chocolate stains on her blouse with sharp, irritated motions, barely sparing him a glance.

"Hey,.I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming-

"Of course you didn't, where were you looking anyway", Lylah interrupted.

Her anger was very much noticeable. Why was she mad anyway?, she was equally at fault, it wasn't just his fault.

But rather than be embarrassed, she would just cover it up with anger,she didn't know him anyway.

No wait, he did look familiar, she just couldn't put a finger on it.

She rolled her eyes as she found her way to the washroom,she had to take care of the mess on her blouse.

He ruined her pink blouse, pink!, pink!

Lylah leaned over the sink, attacking the chocolate stain with a mix of soap, water, and pure determination. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, catching the droplets that splashed across the counter.

Bit by bit, the brown blotch began to fade until only a faint shadow remained. She exhaled in relief, wringing out the damp edge of her blouse and giving her reflection a tired, victorious nod.

"Finally," she muttered, grabbing a paper towel to pat herself dry. "One thing that actually worked today."

Straightening her posture, she pushed open the washroom door, only to freeze mid-step.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.

He was there. The so-called wall. Leaning casually against the opposite wall, arms folded, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Lylah's brief moment of triumph evaporated. Her jaw tightened.

"Nice to see you again," he said, tone calm but teasing. "Didn't think I'd leave that much of an impression."

She gave him a flat look, clutching her bag a little tighter. "You nearly broke my hand."

He shrugged lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You ran into me."

Her brows lifted. "You were standing in the middle of the hallway."

"And you weren't looking where you were going," he countered smoothly.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between irritation and something else hanging thick in the air. Then Lylah sighed, brushing past him without another word.

"Hey, hey", I'm sorry,I wasn't looking", he pulled Layla by the arm and apologized.

Lylah sighed.

"It isn't entirely your fault, I wasn't looking either", Lylah owned up to her own mistake.

"Bad day?", he asked.

Lylah raised her left eyebrow as she released her arm from his grip.

"I thought it was fair to apologize,take responsibility for my actions, but that don't mean I'll tell a stranger about my life, excuse you", the words rolled off her tongue.

He raised his hands in the air in response, automatically backing up.

"Here's your tag, just wanted to apologize for ruining your blouse", he defended himself.

Lylah just stared between him and tag,her lips were threatening to spread.

His gesture touched her, but she wasn't going to show it, not this time.

"How about I apologize properly, Marshmallow in your cocoa later", he asked.

Finally it clicked.

He was Marshmallow friend.

Her phone dinged, pulling her away from the whole conversation.

"He fucking her", it read.

She tapped on the message to view the picture attached and she wasn't surprised.