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The Sultry Lies of Quinn West - Chapters 4-5

The Sultry Lies of Quinn West - Part 2

Chapter 4

Her finger trembled as she hit send, she had finally departed from working at the bar. It was no big deal to the management, as the supply of women in their mid twenties, willing to bare a bit of skin for a semi-easy buck was endless in London. 

The saved link on her phone, for the internship with the drug company, was quickly becoming familiar as she took details and made notes on everything she would need to apply and convince the interviewer that she was more than capable of going head first into a project that would be a big challenge, that was her only chance to survive in a labour market that was consistently nose diving from quarter to quarter. 

The day of her being laid off from her daily grind at the office was looming, with the visceral uncertainty that ate her days up like a starving animal finding scraps after a hard fought scavage through a neglected pile of refuse on a street that no one doted over. The beginning and end of each day getting more and more euphoric as she began to prefer tins of flavoured vodka and caffeine as the early evening set in. She worked her last week by way of getting tasks done without any reference to character or rapport. The music that lacked definition as she ran "emotional playlists" off YouTube on her bluetooth speakers, blurred into the aroma of her living room as she lay, waiting for the next day to show.

It was a Friday when she was given the full notice of her redundancy and the details of her severance package, which was pleasantly suited to see her through two months of unemployed living. She had a decision to make, either brush through the next few months taking an extended holiday like so many of the unemployed, or take charge of her direction as now was the turning point that could forever change her legacy and being, one of lust and meaningless pen pushing.

The application form for the internship arrived in the post the Monday after, a pen was quickly brought to the paper as she filled the endless details in and providing her ID. The university needed to see this to process the request for the student loan from the bank. Triple checking that she had requested the secure return delivery for her ID documents, she sealed the envelope to take it down to the post box that was outside the entrance to her block, a luxury that made her fall in love with living on the estate that towered over the concrete walk ways everyone had become so used to walking, with their struggles and passions being a lasting burden that burned warm every day.

It was only a few days wait before signs showed that progress was happening, as she stared at the cardboard box in the corner of her living room, filled with odd bits from her desk at the office. The relief that her application had made it to the correct department at the drug company, made her new found oneness ever so bittersweet as days of forward planning and uninspired masturbation replaced the comfort of a regular income and the safety net routine of meals for one and a few hours of media consumption every evening.

Chapter 5

The hallway echoed sounds of footsteps as the receptionist guided her to "room 304", it was the day of her interview for the internship, which took her by surprise amongst the weeks filled with relentless boredom. Quinn was dressed as if everything was resting on this one meeting, the threat of having to apply to a supermarket was her driving force for making an impression.

The receptionist asked Quinn to be seated in the corridor to the left at the end of the hallway, which was decorated with posters showcasing the companies latest and most important acheivements. The clock on the wall was precise to the second, while being mechanical. Quinn got a drink from the water cooler as her nerves had dried her mouth, which enhanced the performance anxiety that almost turned into agoraphobia.

Like clockwork, she is called in as she takes her last sip from the cup. A man in a black tailored suit, with a white shirt that looked like it had been dry cleaned and ironed daily, welcomed her into the small office. "Sorry, we're in the middle of a political war in this building, I do apologise about the haphazard running of things today" said the man, Quinn automatically apologised as it took her about a second to remember that she was told over the phone that nearly everyone was taking their winter leave before Christmas, which was a week and a half away. 

For the next 30 minutes, Quinn awnsered questions which seemed to cover absolutely everything about herself, it was obvious that they wanted someone who would serve them well. "Staff retention is our main concern over the next quarter" said the man, now known to her as Brian. "We have a lot of new drug candidates being finalised, probably more than we've ever had over the past decade, we're working overtime just to keep the powers that be happy", Quinn made a guess that this would be the MHRA, which she only gained a basic grasp of the inner workings of over the past few weeks from online research.

"I'll be your boss for the next few months, although that could change after we are over the hill", to which she quickly realised that she had gotten the job, her appearance changed as she happily confirmed the details of her new job and left the building absolutely gleeming. She took a deep breath out as she realised that her money problems and the threat of working in a supermarket and living off beans on toast were no longer a reality.

As she sat eating the celebratory pizza and upmarket cider, her mood was high enough to finally get the box in the corner of the room unpacked, as she had before daunted the prospect of stumbling across something that would remind her of her job at the club, as there were a few trinkets packed into the box that were by products of an underworld close to home. Packed tightly into the side of the box, among many pages of now irrelevant admin paperwork, was a picture taken at an easter drinks do, which included many old colleagues and friends. Quinn felt emotional like she was a virgin to feeling anything that was remotely nostalgic, working at the club had cheapened her expectations of life, to which a sudden realisation occured that for the past few years she had been an absent player in a world where she could have embraced the beauty of making memories.

The rest of the evening was spent drinking what now had turned into a bender until she passed out, comfortably okay until the next morning where only a light pounding sensation in her head was cured with a good breakfast.

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