After my visit to the graveyard, I feel better. It soothes me. I used to think the graveyard was creepy, and I still do, but now it holds meaning for me. It is a place I can mourn freely, where I can cry and no one will ask why.

I unlock my tiny apartment door with my tiny key, fumbling in the dark. No one bothers to light up the hallway, and I doubt the lights work, anyway. So its cursing and darkness as I open my door. 

The lights of the town can be seen from the balcony of my apartment; it's soothing to see the yellow glows across the town. I cross over to the balcony and just lean against the rail for a while, feeling the wind flow through my hair.

It's wonderful out on my balcony. I can imagine I'm the only one in the world here.

But reality comes crashing back. Painfully. To take my thoughts away from life I turn on the television. It shows Kayla Marie, who died spectacularly when filming an action film. She used to be one of my favourite actresses. Used to. Before everything went wrong and I just didn't like to watch TV anymore.

Turning on my phone, I type:
hello
are you still there?
I miss you.
please come back,
make my dream come true.
it's you I lack

will you come to me
or
will I come to you?

There is no reply.

Feeling embarrassed by my rare show of feelings, which I'm surprised I still have, I run to my bed and bury my head in the blankets.

---

I have always been an efficient girl, and so naturally, in eight days, I have established myself a job in Temington Ryston's house. I'm to be the girl that greets you at the door and tells you rich guy isn't available, sorry not sorry.

Not a cool job, but I'm not complaining.

Temington lives in a huge house. I'm awed by the sight of it, but obviously I'm not going to show it. No, I will walk in with a swagger as if I own the damn place.

"Girl, you cannot be dressed like this," a senile- sorry, senior woman greets me the minute I walk in.

I glance down at my boots, black jeans and the classiest white shirt I could scrounge up. "Care to share why?"

A bell rings furiously and the woman sticks her head into the kitchen behind her, screaming "Bring up the food, damn it!"

She returns to facing me and smiles poisonously. "Boots. Hair. Jeans. Now get out."

I bow my head, regretting my earlier outburst. It may have showed my rebellious side too much. "I'm so sorry, Madam. Would you like me to change? But I don't have other clothes with me now."

Her face softens from how contrite and meek I seem. Hiding my face, while bowing, I smile. Score.

"You may wear my spare clothes. Now hurry and change, I will tell you how to work later."

Hers? In dismay, I glance at her rather plump figure. Of course, I slap on a grateful expression and say sweetly "Thank you, Madam."

I rush to the back and pull on the spare clothes of icky bicky grumpy pot Madam. They practically hang off me, a large black apron and large white shirt with black skirt. In desperation, I tie the apron tighter and the shirt into a knot at the end.

Gah. Stupid. Why can't I wear my damn boots and jeans?

All is quiet outside and I unlock the door to rush out, so I can appear to be very on-task to Madam.

I rush out, hands on my hair as if I was in the midst of tying a ponytail. As I rush out I gasp "Madam, so sorry, I wasn't quick enough-"

I stop short. And back away very slowly into the room I was changing in. I'd rather be there, I think.

"Wow, hello there. Those clothes might be three sizes too big, don't you think? A slight possibility."

Madam yanks my arm, her claws digging into my arm painfully. "Jane isn't here so this is your new driver."

"I can't dr-" I begin, horrified. And drive that rude dude who scolded me about Maya?

And then it gets better. Maya walks into the kitchen too. Madam wrings her hands. "Ah, ah! Sir, Madam, why do you come in today? I have not washed the kitchen in an hour!"

I roll my eyes. Then bow and edge out of the kitchen.

Maya spotted me. "Maya!" Maya cries.

"Oh, no. My name is Angel," I say. "Ha ha."

"Well, driver, let's go. I have a meeting to get to."

"But, but-" I sputter.

Once we're alone in the car, he faces me. "Explain your goddamn self."

"I am not your driver!" Is all I say.

"I know you can't drive. I was surprised when you knew you couldn't drive. Stupid people usually think they're clever," he says frostily.

"What if stupid people are actually clever people disguised as stupid people who act clever and are actually clever but other stupid people who are really stupid think those stupid people that act clever and are clever are stupid?"

He leans back in the passenger's seat and sighs. "Okay, so you quit your con artist job?"

"I am a con scientist," I hiss.

"So did you quit?"

"Yup," I lie easily.

Then I can't hear what he's saying because the cloud over his head, the sorrow cloud, grows alarmingly dark and big. I almost think it's real. It looks like the black- yes, black- mist is creeping towards me. Fear and repulsion strike my heart. Suddenly I can't breathe well.

"I said, can we go?" He seems normal....but then why is the sorrow cloud becoming darker? Usually, people would have some sort of physical reaction in response to their feelings, yet this guy seems like a stone, just as cold and harsh 

I jerk forward and my foot hits a random pedal. "Ahhhh!" I scream, and step harder.

The car lurches forward rapidly.

"Jam the brake, woman!" Temington yells.

"Trying to, Temington!" I scream.

I press hard on the other pedal, my feet wildly feeling for the brake, and the car stops abruptly, throwing me forward.

"Ow," I say, rubbing my face which has smacked into a streetlamp and the airbag, which has exploded into my face.

"You're a mess. Please get out," he says curtly, taking out a notebook.

"Temington-"

"It's Remington!" He shouts.

"Okay! Lamington! Sorry! I need the job!" To con you, I mentally add. Win your trust and then take all your cash and run.

"I think you were doing just fine conning people."

"I wasn't conning anyone," I mutter. "I really do have someone who needs my help financially."

Also known as Boss. Without me bringing in the money I think he wouldn't have a phone, much less be able to play Candy Crush.

"Well, too bad. You're fired. Now you can go add that to the Guiness World Records."

"For what?" I snap.

"For the longest staying employee," he says simply.

I find the accelerator and the car propels forward again. This time, I confidently put my hands on the wheel and steer it in random directions, narrowly avoiding obstacles.

"Okay! Let's negotiate!"

"Did I hear let's go?" I ask and zoom ahead as fast as the car can go.

"You can stay! Just stop!"

I release the pressure and the car shudders to a stop. Remington breathes out. I notice his grip on the black notebook is turning his knuckles white.

He grins at me. "I lied. You're still fired. Get the hell out."

"Oh my gosh. You-" I lean over and grip his shirt.

He pushes me away easily. "Stop it. I need to plan my day." Remington flips open his notebook. Without looking at me again, he says "Drive! I'm going to be late."

"Shall I go at 300 miles per hour?" I ask wickedly.

"Go ahead. Hope you die in the process."

"The feeling is mutual."

I huff. He sure is the same from when I met him a long time ago. Only this time I know his name- Remington Tryston. It's a very high-class and posh name which personally sounds idiotic to me.

"Actually, I don't know how to drive," I explain patiently. "In fact, I did tell you, but you ignored me."

Remington flushes angrily. "Haven't you heard of learning from experience?"

I gulp. "Ye-uh-"

"Drive." He resumes his scribbling in his notebook and gritting my teeth, I rev forward.

It isn't smooth. In fact, Remington actually has to scream at me a couple of times to turn the damn wheel or to go slower, damn it!

But I manage to make it to the building where Remington has a function. Thank god. I slump in my seat, eyes burning and feet sore.

"I'll come out soon. Just wait here. Please," He says grouchily.

Once he leaves, I hop out of the car happily. Time to cheat people of their money. Yes, you read right. It doesn't bother me at all, this conning business. I mean, I don't have any morals, so it's really okay.

So while Remington is in the building talking business, I'm really just walking around in this part of town, looking at the saddest people I can find and trying to use their emotions to my advantage. I need to find a deal that will satisfy their need to be happy.

I've become skilled at this. Perfectly skilled. And so by the time Remington arrives, I am sitting back in the car, yawning, a comfortable sum of money nestling in my pocket.

He spies the bulge of cash. "What's that?"

"Obviously my child. Kangaroos put their children in their pockets too. Why can't I?"

"Forget I even asked. Please," he begs.

I don't bother to respond and instead take off at an insane speed to drive Remington back home. Privileged kid. I roll my eyes.

Remington slams the car door and stalks into the house. I trail after him. My stomach is grumbling and maybe I can get some food as a reward for learning how to drive, sort of. Of course, the roads were all closed for him, so that explains why I was able to drive like a normal person earlier.

"Angel, do you want lunch?" He asks, sticking his head into the fridge.

I walk over and fight an urge to shut the fridge door over his head. "O...of course! Hahahaha!"

I burst into a fit of giggles as I imagine Remington being locked in the fridge and his head coming out as the shape of the fridge compartment. Whoops, guess he wouldn't be able to ever marry.

He pushes a microwaveable set meal to me, scowling. "Go eat in the servants' quarters."

"Why? I'm not a servant, I'm a driver." Seeing his look, I add "Sorry. Yes. I'll go."

He pauses. Looks up from microwaving the meal. And then says "Forget it. Just stay here."

"Nah."

"No, I need you to!"

I'm confused why, until I look closer at where he is. Then I break out laughing.

Readers: so sorry. I don't like this chapter much because it's too much dialogue, and kind of a filler chapter, but here it is.

Vote and comment! Thank you!