This is not the sequel to Welcome to Miami. This is nothing like Welcome to Miami. This story is just about the opposite of that happy-teenaged-giddy feeling with Welcome to Miami. This story is romance, and I like it very much since it's not very typical. I was going to put it it in the Science Fiction section since there are... MYTHical creatures involved but, I felt it was more romance than anything. I know this was kind of fast, but I'm addicted to writing. Seriously. This story is well thought out and it's going to be long... really long. Well, at least I'm planning on it. ;D Enjoy!
Can You Handle It? ;
I slowly started to rest my head down on my desk, my coffee starting to slip from my hands. I closed my eyes and sighed, I needed to sleep.
“Jenkins!” My boss’ voice screamed out from the intercom. I jumped up and my Starbucks’ Mocha Latte dropped from my hands and opened on the hardwood floor.
“Shit!” I hissed, looking for any papers I could find from my desk to start soaking up the coffee off of the expensive mahogany.
“What was that?!” My boss asked, his voice appalled. I looked up at the tiny intercom on my organized desk that sat in front of the floor to ceiling window, over looking Times Square.
“Nothing sir, sorry I wasn’t talking to you.” I got up, looking down at which paper I used. I pouted, it was my list of questions that I wrote last night for hours. I crumpled the paper and threw it in the wired trashcan next to my desk and sat down.
“You better have not been. Anyways, Jenkins, I need you in my office in five. We have a new reporter here joining the family.” Mr. Henti calmed down, explaining to me as I started to type up my last interview. I pulled my hands off the key bored and looked down.
“Yes, sire. I’ll be in soon.” I heard him click off the line and that was my indication to get down there as soon as possible. I pushed my chair away from the desk and stood up. I took a quick check in the small mirror on my desk: my dark brown, almost black, hair curled around my face. I fixed the clip that held my bangs off and rubbed the sleep from my dreary eyes. That’s the last time I ever stay up until three am working on interview questions. I turned around, facing the rest of the desks in the studio floor, other journalists working furiously at their articles.
I pushed the glass doors open to my boss’ office and walked in, taking a seat next to the blonde bob haired girl. She was very petit and sat straight up, her hands folded in her lap. I looked past her at my boss who was getting coffee from the machine in the corner of his office.
“Yes, sir?” I spoke out, crossing my legs. I rested my arms on the arms of the chair, also sitting up straight.
“Jenkins, meet Stuart.” My boss always called everyone by their last name. He thought that first names were too common and would confuse people, so he made sure everyone was called by their last name.
“Hello, Stuart.” I smiled. She looked at me funny, but then smiled very small.
“Hello.”
“I’m Jenkins, as you’ve noticed.” I held out a hand to introduce myself. Stuart accepted the shake, then quickly retreated.
“Jenkins, I want you to guide Stuart around the New York Post. She’s new in a big building and obviously lost. She’s so small that she could be lost in a closet for Christ’s sake!” Another thing, my boss was very harsh and always talked about people in third person even if they’re sitting right next to him. I flashed a reassuring smile at Stuart and she just flickered her eyes out the window.
“Sure thing, sir.” I nodded then rose from my chair. We both looked at Stuart as she remained seated. She got the idea that it was time to leave and jumped to her feet, embarrassed. We walked out, Stuart trailing closely behind me.
“So, what’s your real name?” I asked as I kept walking forward, squeezing between people in the narrow brick hallway.
“Doesn’t sir not want us using first names?” Her tiny voice whispered back. I laughed and stopped, turning to face her.
“That’s only when sir is in our presence. We call everyone by their first names in the office unless he’s present. I’m Avril.” I showed off my straight white teeth, grinning.
“Oh…” Stuart seemed to think over this, hoping this wasn’t a trick. “I’m Alicia.”
“That’s a nice name.” I nodded, then turned to keep walking. “Okay, so for the first stop on our tour, the photography editors room. If you yourself manage to take a picture when out on the streets for one of your articles, you bring it here. The editor, Derrick, will take it from you and have it back in one hour at the most edited and in it’s best perfection. This is also where our photography team works.” I introduced Derrick with a simple point of my finger as he waved from the window of the red room.
We walked out of the glass doors and stopped at the next. “This is the advisors office - if you ever get in trouble for anything whether its something you published or a problem with getting information, come here.”
“Why would there be a problem?” Alicia kept up with my fast pace.
“Alicia, this is a dangerous job. Our journalists will do anything to get information - lie, cheat, bribe - of course you should know that.” I smiled. Alicia laughed and nodded as we walked into the next set of glass doors.
As soon as we walked in, my good friend Bianca Nets ran up to say hello. Bianca was African American, her black hair in big curls down to her mid-back. Her big brown eyes sparkled and her smile was bigger then the city itself. “Hey Avril! What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Bianca. I’m giving the newbie here a tour. Bianca, this is Alicia. Alicia, this is my good friend, Bianca.” I introduced them. Bianca held out a hand and Alicia shook it.
“Boss calls me Nets.” Bianca laughed.
“Stuart.” Alicia said quietly.
“Well, this is the article editors office. This is where all of your articles and interviews come to be edited and sent back for corrections. This is also where we put together our news paper.” Bianca explained for me. Alicia nodded but kept quiet - she looked scared.
“Well, there’s a few more stops before we get to our office so call me and we’ll eat lunch together. Bye!” I waved as I walked out of the editors office, Alicia on my trail.
“She’s nice.” She stated quietly.
“Nice?” I asked. “Alicia, if you want to be a journalist for the post, then you can’t use simple words like ‘nice’. Okay? I’m sorry if I sound harsh, but I’m just trying to help.” I stopped and held the next door open for her.
“Oh…okay. Thank you.” Alicia placed some of her blond hair behind her ears. A pearl ear ring was placed on each ear that matched her pearl necklace.
“This is what we call ‘the lounge’. It’s where some people come to relax when they’ve finished all their work. As you can see, not many people here. That means that we’re always working to be at the top.”
“Wow. It’s nice in here.” Alicia looked around the brick room. The hardwood floors were glossy and very modern couches were placed around a coffee table and a plasma screen that hung from the wall.
“Yes, it is. Bianca and I sometimes eat lunch in here with our friends.” I pointed at the small round table that sat in front of a window. “Today, if you want, you can eat lunch with us.” I smiled. “Well, now we have to get back to our own office. Follow me.” Alicia nodded and we walked back to the double glass doors of the journalists office.
“So, this is where we all work.” I spread my arms wide to show off all the nice cubicles spread out among the studio. Ceiling lights were dimmed, sun light shown through the floor to ceiling windows and the mahogany floor reflected the city around us.
“Oh, I like this.” Alicia grinned. “Where’s my desk?”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t one opened yet. I’ll get Fred, the manager, to get on that. For right now, you can come to my desk.” I offered. We walked past many busy journalists typing away at their computers, the sounds of fingers hitting keys reflected off the walls. I sat down in my cushioned chair and pulled one up for Alicia. She sat down next to me and waited.
“Well, right now I’m working on an interview but feel free to do or ask whatever.” I turned and started to continue writing my interview.
“Is there anything I should know not to do?” Alicia spoke up, worry in her voice.
“Hmm… yes. Don’t dress casual, dress formal and always look your best for interviews. Certainly, you know the basics of being a journalist… maybe you’ll be able to catch up.” Then I turned and continued to work, Alicia quiet for the rest of the time.
Hey...Day tripper...
i read your story...i like it a lot...
it is simple but it works...
though i may suggest that you may need some more description on some scenes or maybe show what some characters are thinking
though you may not take my suggestion really...that was just for extra....but its good...i like it
I'm back for the promised review, just one day earlier 
So .. here goes ... (:
Can You Handle It? ;
I closed my eyes and sighed, I needed to sleep.
looking for any papers I could find from my desk to start soaking up the coffee off of the expensive mahogany.
over looking Times Square
which paper I had used
the key bored
“Yes, [s]sire[/s] sir
my dark brown, almost black [s],[/s] hair
That’s the last time I ever stay up until three am working on interview questions. I turned around, facing the rest of the desks in the studio floor, other journalists working furiously at their articles.
I turned around, facing the rest of the desks in the studio floor, other journalists working furiously at their articles.
very petite
my boss [I think that there should be a comma here, or is it my comma fever coming back to haunt me? d:] who was getting coffee
She looked at me funny
I flashed a reassuring smile at Stuart and she just flickered her eyes out the window.
this, hoping this
our news paper
words like ‘nice’. Okay?
pearl ear ring
dimmed, sun light
& thank you also for reading them in the first place (:
day tripper wrote:This is not the sequel to Welcome to Miami. This is nothing like Welcome to Miami. This story is just about the opposite of that happy-teenaged-giddy feeling with Welcome to Miami. This story is romance, and I like it very much since it's not very typical. I was going to put it it in the Science Fiction section since there are... MYTHical creatures involved but, I felt it was more romance than anything. I know this was kind of fast, but I'm addicted to writing. Seriously. This story is well thought out and it's going to be long... really long. Well, at least I'm planning on it. ;D Enjoy!
Can You Handle It? ;
I slowly started to rest my head down on my desk, my coffee starting to slip from my hands. I closed my eyes and sighed, (personally, i would use a period here) I needed to sleep.
“Jenkins!” My boss’ voice screamed out from the intercom. I jumped up and my Starbucks’ Mocha Latte dropped from my hands and opened on the hardwood floor. (maybe not the best description of the scene)
“Shit!” I hissed, looking for any papers I could find my desk to start soaking up the coffee off of the expensive mahogany. (i dont know. maybe move around the words in this sentece to make it sound better?)
“What was that?!” My boss asked, his voice appalled. I looked up at the tiny intercom on my organized desk that sat in front of the floor to ceiling window (does the desk or the intercom "sit infron of the floor to celing window"? also, you may want to use hyphens ibetween the words "floor to celing window"), over looking Times Square.
“Nothing sir, sorry (comma) I wasn’t talking to you.” I got up, looking down at which paper I used. I pouted, (";" may be better than ",") it was my list of questions that I wrote last night for hours (change around these words a bit). I crumpled the paper and threw it in the wired trashcan next to my desk and sat down.
“You better have not been ("not have been"?). Anyways, Jenkins, I need you in my office in five. We have a new reporter here joining the family.” Mr. Henti calmed down, explaining to me as I started to type up my last interview. I pulled my hands off the key bored (i think it is "board) and looked down.
“Yes, sire ("sire" or "sir"). I’ll be in soon.” I heard him click off the line and that was (maybe replace "and that was" with ";") my indication to get down there as soon as possible. I pushed my chair away from the desk and stood up. I took a quick check in the small mirror on my desk: my dark brown, almost black, hair curled around my face. I fixed the clip that held my bangs off (you "fixed it off"?) and rubbed the sleep from my dreary eyes. That’s the last time I ever stay up until three am working on interview questions. I turned around, facing the rest of the desks in the studio floor, other journalists working furiously at their articles. (this sentence does not work; i should be able to read the sentece without the words in between the commas)
I pushed the glass doors open to my boss’ office and walked in, taking a seat next to the blonde bob haired girl (boy says: her hairs name is bob?) . She was very petit (i think its spelled with a "e") and sat straight up, her hands folded in her lap. I looked past her at my boss who was getting coffee from the machine in the corner of his office.
“Yes, sir?” I spoke out, crossing my legs. I rested my arms on the arms of the chair, also sitting up straight. (when did she sit?)
“Jenkins, meet Stuart.” My boss always called everyone by their last name. He thought that first names were too common and would confuse people, so he made sure everyone was called by their last name.
“Hello, Stuart.” I smiled. She looked at me funny, but then smiled very small.
“Hello.”
“I’m Jenkins, as you’ve noticed.” I held out a hand to introduce myself. Stuart accepted the shake, then quickly retreated.
“Jenkins, I want you to guide Stuart around the New York Post. She’s new in a big building and obviously lost. She’s so small that she could be lost in a closet for Christ’s sake!” Another thing, my boss was very harsh and always talked about people in third person even if they’re sitting right next to him (i hope he talks about others in 3rd person! that would be a weird character if they spoke about others in the first person). I flashed a reassuring smile at Stuart and she just flickered her eyes out the window.
“Sure thing, sir.” I nodded then rose from my chair. We both looked at Stuart as she remained seated. She got the idea that it was time to leave and jumped to her feet, embarrassed. We walked out, Stuart trailing closely behind me.
“So, what’s your real name?” I asked as I kept walking forward, squeezing between people in the narrow brick hallway.
“Doesn’t sir not want us using first names?” Her tiny voice whispered back. I laughed and stopped, turning to face her. (does everybody use "sir" in place of their bosses name?)
“That’s only when sir is in our presence. We call everyone by their first names in the office unless he’s present. I’m Avril.” I showed off my straight white teeth, grinning.
“Oh…” Stuart seemed to think over this, hoping this wasn’t a trick. “I’m Alicia.” (nice name)
“That’s a nice name.” I nodded, then turned to keep walking. “Okay, so for the first stop on our tour, the photography editors room. If you yourself manage to take a picture when out on the streets for one of your articles, you bring it here. The editor, Derrick, will take it from you and have it back in one hour at the most (comma) edited and in it’s best perfection. This is also where our photography team works.” I introduced Derrick with a simple point of my finger as he waved from the window of the red room.
We walked out of the glass doors and stopped at the next. “This is the advisors office - if you ever get in trouble for anything whether its something you published or a problem with getting information, come here.”
(next line)“Why would there be a problem?” Alicia kept up with my fast pace.
“Alicia, this is a dangerous job. Our journalists will do anything to get information - lie, cheat, bribe - of course you should know that.” I smiled. Alicia laughed and nodded as we walked into the next set of glass doors.
(next line)As soon as we walked in, my good friend Bianca Nets ran up to say hello. Bianca was African American, her black hair in big curls down to her mid-back. Her big brown eyes sparkled and her smile was bigger then the city itself. “Hey Avril! What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Bianca. I’m giving the newbie here a tour. Bianca, this is Alicia. Alicia, this is my good friend, Bianca.” I introduced them. Bianca held out a hand and Alicia shook it.
“Boss calls me Nets.” Bianca laughed.
“Stuart.” Alicia said quietly.
“Well, this is the article editors office. This is where all of your articles and interviews come to be edited and sent back for corrections. This is also where we put together our news paper.” Bianca explained for me. Alicia nodded but kept quiet - (";" would probably be better than a hyphen) she looked scared.
“Well, there’s a few more stops before we get to our office (comma) so call me and we’ll eat lunch together. Bye!” I waved as I walked out of the editors office, Alicia on my trail.
“She’s nice.” She stated quietly.
“Nice?” I asked. “Alicia, if you want to be a journalist for the post, then you can’t use simple words like ‘nice’. Okay? I’m sorry if I sound harsh, but I’m just trying to help.” I stopped and held the next door open for her.
“Oh…okay. Thank you.” Alicia placed some of her blond hair behind her ears. A pearl ear ring was placed on each ear that matched her pearl necklace.
“This is what we call ‘the lounge’. It’s where some people come to relax when they’ve finished all their work. As you can see, not many people here. That means that we’re always working to be at the top.”
“Wow. It’s nice in here.” Alicia looked around the brick room. The hardwood floors were glossy and very modern couches were placed around a coffee table and a plasma screen that hung from the wall.
“Yes, it is. Bianca and I sometimes eat lunch in here with our friends (not sure if the word "friends" works in this setting. "co-workers" maybe?).” I pointed at the small round table that sat in front of a window. “Today, if you want, you can eat lunch with us.” I smiled. “Well, now we have to get back to our own office. Follow me.” Alicia nodded and we walked back to the double glass doors of the journalists office.
“So, this is where we all work.” I spread my arms wide to show off all the nice cubicles spread out among the studio. Ceiling lights were dimmed, sun light shown through the floor to ceiling windows and the mahogany floor reflected the city around us.
“Oh, I like this.” Alicia grinned. “Where’s my desk?”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t one opened yet. I’ll get Fred, the manager, to get on that. For right now, you can come to my desk.” I offered. We walked past many busy journalists typing away at their computers, the sounds of fingers hitting keys reflected off the walls. I sat down in my cushioned chair and pulled one up for Alicia. She sat down next to me and waited.
“Well, right now I’m working on an interview but feel free to do or ask whatever.” I turned and started to continue writing my interview. (she "started to continue"?)
“Is there anything I should know not to do?” Alicia spoke up, worry in her voice.
“Hmm… yes. Don’t dress casual, dress formal and always look your best for interviews. Certainly, you know the basics of being a journalist… maybe you’ll be able to catch up.” Then I turned and continued to work, Alicia quiet for the rest of the time.
Heyy daytripper --
I thought it was about time I read & reviewed some of your work as you've (very kindly) reviewed alot of mine (: & I saw this newly posted & I've just read it. But I'm on a bit of a flying visit at the moment, but I promise on Saturday I'll come back & give a proper review.
Sorry I can't satay for longer, but promise I'll come back and review this
Speak soon, Lucyy xx
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