Conquering the Storm

"Kane! Where are you on the report?" My boss looked like a blowfish on Botox. Huge rubbery lips, wide far apart eyes and bloated body. No doubt from the beer I smell on his breath every once in a while. The color of his blue eyes were his best feature because it was definately not his oily badly dyed blonde hair. His skin was stretched taut over his face to attempt to rid him of wrinkles but only made him look more fragile like if you poked his face his skin would split and the contents of his head would spill out.

"It's in third round editing, Mr.Randall," I answered around the end of the pen I was biting on in the staff meeting.

The other editors and reporters sat around the large conference table. Here at the Headquarters for The Image Magazine and The Daily Times, I was one of the most hated and loved people here.

Being fresh out of college and only 22, I was the youngest editor the magazine and the paper ever had. I didn't even have to intern, though I did have to write stories and reports for the magazine and newspaper from time to time. I graduated as valedictorian from the Journalistic school of UNC Chapel Hill. The second I got off the graduation stage, job offers were thrown at me.

That's how I got to pretty South Carolina. Half an hour from any beach. Winters mild enough to be comfortable and summers good and hot. Just like I like them.

Mr. Randall went on for a while before collapsing into a chair to let the head of the Magazine take over.

Ms. Leone was everything Mr. Randall wasn't. She was an ageless beauty with amazing blonde hair that waved to her back and never ending chocolate eyes that could charm a smile out of even the most hateful person. She looked amazing in the red dress she was wearing that was just two shades lighter than the deep red lipstick that graced her beautiful mouth.

Two things stopped me from ever approaching the woman romantically. Yes, I'm a proud lesbian. First off, she was my boss and she looked too much like...her.

"Rhianne? How are you doing on the editing?" I was glad for the distraction from the dark thoughts that were surely coming. Every eye turned to me, either with nonchalance or outright hatred. I had gotten a job that devoted employees spent years striving to get.

"Editing is done. Waiting on the final product from 4 reporters and one picture," I answered, proud of my voice for being clear and not wavering.

"Good, work, as always, Rhianne," she said with a small indulgent smile.

The heat of the glares intensified. "I'm just doing my job, Ms. Leone,"

"I told you, all of you, to call me Macey," she said. "I'm not like Tate over there,

Mr. Randall flushed red but didn't say anything because when a beautiful woman teased you, it just pleased you to know they knew your name.

After a few more minutes, the meeting was adjourned.

I went to find Lera, the woman who edited my stories for me and check on her progress.

"Hey, Everlast," she smiled, calling me by my middle name since that was the name of my advice column. I was the not so anonymous writer of "Yours, Everlasting"

"Hey, Lera. How does my story for Randall look?" I asked.

"It looks great. I finished editing it. Here's a hard copy and check over it one more time," I read through it.

"Looks great. Thanks, Lera. Keep up the excellent work,"

"Thanks. I'm sending it to Randall now," she said with a smile.

The rest of the day would have gone well if Macey hadn't called me to her office. I think that's when my day went south.
I walked into her office. "You called for me?"

"Have a seat, Rhianne," she said from her place perched on the edge of her desk facing the chair she directed me to take. A simple foot of space between us.

I sat down and swallowed the nervousness trying to claw up my throat.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Yes, you can. That's what I love about you, always ready to help. Eager to please," I had to hold in a flinch at the suggestive tone if her words. "The thing is, I need you to be my date to the Awards Show tomorrow night and the after party. I know it's late and last minute. Can you do it?"

I tried to keep my expression collected. Though everything in me wanted to run. I was lost in visions of Rachel. She could be Macey's twin. Rachel, my abusive ex girl friend.

"Well? Can you do it?" There was a challenge beneath the seemingly pleasant words and if I answered wrong there would be hell to pay.

"I...yes. I can be your date," I murmured meakly.

"Honey, what's wrong?" The vision of Rachel dispelled seeing Macey reaching for me.

"I'm fine. I just have some last minute edits, I'll see you tomorrow, Ms.Leone," I made an exit as quickly as was polite.

I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face and took a few deep breaths. I haven't had visions of Rachel like that since I was in therapy. Then again I wasn't ever completely alone with Macey either.

I looked at my reflection as I dried off the water. My pale skin was pretty against my fire colored hair. My natural hair color. Red-orange with tones of blonde that looked like an open flame. My hazel eyes were calming as I breathed from the wildness of fear I had felt morphing into an introspective inquisitive look as I studied myself. I wasnt fat or too skinny to the point of being unhealthy. Though for a while I was.

I let Rachel bully me into hating myself and everything I knew. It didn't help that my parents didnt approve of me being lesbian. They claimed that it was satanic and because I chose to be with women, Rachel was Gods punishment on me. My parents were always hard to please especially when my older sister had a perfect track record of being worlds perfect child. I would never live up to their expectations after Jessie.

They had relented a little but they only tolerated me because I was valedictorian and it looked bad on them to turn their back on their child.

"Rhianne? Are you okay?" I looked up to see Lera. "You ran in here looking like you were going to hurl,"

"I am feeling a little sick. Could you let Randall and Leone know I'm going home? I'll make up for it another day," I said softly, even though there was only 20 minutes left in my work day.

"Ok. You feel better," I gave her a weak nod and a half stressed smile before grabbing my things, clocking out and going home.

Swallowed by the foot traffic and air, tinged with a little salt from the distant beach I felt like I could breathe again. I walked home an when I got there I realized it was around the time I would normally be home. And on cue, my phone rang as I shedded the dress shirt and slacks I wore to work.

"Hello?" I asked as I slipped into a nightgown.

"Hey, big sis," I smiled hearing the voice of my younger brother, Alex. The sweet, nonjudgmental voice was always a balm to the troubles of the day.

"Alex, it's so good to hear from you," I answered.

"It's good to hear from you. The Rents are fussing over me coming to see you in a few weeks for my spring break," I could practically hear the eye roll.

I laughed softly. "You're welcome any time, you know that. Did they give you the speech again?"

His voice went to a falsetto. "Alex, you know we don't want you turning out like that misfit sister of yours. Why can't you stay away? Are you possesed with the demon of homosexuality too? Blah blah blah,"

"So, yeah? I laughed and then quieted "I'm sorry I left you to deal with that. I wish they would let you live with me,"

"Yeah me too. It would be easier. But you know The Rents, they'll threaten to charge you with kidnapping or something equally insane. I'm just lucky to see you at all,"he answered.

There was a companionable silence between us. "So how was your day," he asked finally.

"My boss asked me to be her date to an award show tomorrow night and I said yes," I answered.

"The boss that..." He didn't have to fill in the blank. We both knew the answer.

"Yep, and... I had flashbacks," I admitted, "she was full on flirting with me though and I could only see Rachel,"

"Alex? Give me that phone," I could feel the coldness in her voice as if she were standing right in front of me.

"Rhianne,"

"Hello, Mother," I answered, keeping my voice impassive.

"I don't know what secrets of the devil you are whispering to my son but it has got to stop. Do you know he started a Faggot club at his school," her voice was like getting frostbite. Cold and painful to the point of dead numbness.

"What are you talking about, mother?" I sighed out.

"A GSA," Alex's voice said from the background.

"Why did you do that? You know how Mother and Father get. Why are you putting yourself in the line of fire?" I admonished him for taking on their holy wrath though I found the gesture incredibly sweet.

"Because I, unlike others in the family, support you. And she wasn't supposed to find out," he answered.

"Thank you, but still that's no reason to--"

"Oh don't act like you didn't know. For lying to me about not knowing, and probably pushing him to start it, his visit is cut off," the click of the end of the call rang with finality.

And I went to bed feeling bad, even though I wasn't in the wrong. One of my mothers talents.

I decided to go dress shopping on my lunch break tomorrow.
My life is so glamorous. Please note the immense amount of sarcasm.