"If You Wouldn't Wear It, It Must Be Truly Awful"
“The Office” was what Agatha called it, though it was more of a palace. Almost entirely glass, practically a skyscraper, the House of Harkness™ building cast a vast shadow over the street Rio was rushing up, the usual sense of dread consuming her as she approached, her dark, frizzy blowing in her face. She’d really have to stop dying it so often, it was just about dead at the moment.
As she reached the gates, she noticed a car in the car park. It would be impossible to miss, considering the Porshe was wrapped in an obnoxious deep purple. It stood out amongst the rusting silvers and faded blacks, begging for the attention of passers-by.
‘HARKNE55’ read the custom plate, prompting yet another eye roll from Rio. The vehicle pretty much screamed ‘I'm better than you’
Agatha was in early, and seeing as the boss was consistently an hour late every day, her early presence couldn’t mean anything good.
Entering the glass double doors, Rio flashed her lanyard and stepped into an elevator. Each one had been fitted out in plush carpet, a deep purple that sank under each step. The walls were lined with mirrored panels, creating an illusion of more space, and sot music seeped from speakers flush with the ceiling. Jesus, it was disarmingly extravagant, probably bigger than her bedroom, though somehow completely charming. She'd never get used to this.
‘One Day’ Rio said to herself ‘This will be you’
She frowned, catching sight of her reflection in the glass. She still looked a mess, somehow worse than she did when she left her apartment, though that could be attributed to the usual London wind, and the fact that simply setting foot in this building could make anyone feel completely insignificant and useless. Agatha’s ruthless presence seemed to haunt every corner of this place. She shivered.
“Uh. Hi” A slightly high-pitched voice sounded behind her, causing Rio to nearly jump out of her skin
“Shit! Where did you come from?!” She whips around, face to face with a tall, lanky boy. He was younger than Rio, his black curls perfectly gelled and styled. He had several facial piercings and was wearing ripped jeans and an old band t-shirt, that would certainly earn a tut from Agatha. She’d heard of this kid before.
“Oh, you must be Teen-” Rio begins. Agatha was always complaining about him, and Rio couldn't help but feel bad. He’d seemed nice enough, but the pair had never spoken before.
“It’s Billy” He corrects almost involuntarily, his mouth curving into an awkward grin
“What? Well Agatha always calls you T-“
“I know” He smiled sheepishly. “She’s always doing that, y’know, making up names for people. They just tend to stick” Billy shrugged.
He’d been apprenticing here for a couple months now, and Rio had heard about his “ridiculous way of dressing” from Agatha, who seemed intent of despising the boy, though the way she went on about him to Rio, perhaps Agatha did have a slight soft spot for the teenager.
“So, what, you were just stood there listening to me yap to myself?!” Rio says, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. It appeared her bosses’ cruelty was starting to rub off on her.
“I mean, it was very uh... inspiring, what you were saying” Billy smiled, before departing at Floor Five
Great. Now the lowest of the low in this place think she’s fucking crazy. Typical. Rio huffs, kicking at the edge of the carpet with her scuffed DMs. She managed to miss her floor twice, getting distracted by some pattern on the floor or a fleeting thought, before finally getting off at Floor Seventeen
The lift doors open into a long, straight corridor, every wall lined with sketches and newspaper clippings, rave reviews of their shows and designs and collections. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and the hall seemed to exude opulence and glamour, taking Rio’s breath away no matter how many times she walked down it to inevitable hell in the room marked “A.Harkness”. Rio could already hear the incessant click-clack of Agatha’s unnecessarily long acrylic nails against her keyboard. She took a deep breath, her grip on the already cold coffee cup tightening as she knocked on the wooden door, slipping inside.
Agatha was sat at her desk, one leg draped over the side of her office chair, the fabric of her suit trousers climbing her leg slightly. Her fingers were flying across the keyboard, typing in a flurry of focused movement. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, several winding strands escaping and framing her face, her dark eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on the screen in front of her. Large, framed reading glasses sat on her nose, and her lips were tinted a perfect plum shade. She was wearing a wine-red suit jacket that was probably worth more than Rio’s apartment, one hand idly fiddling with the golden buttons while the other continued to dance across the keyboard. Her suit was clearly tailored, perfectly highlighting every curve and showing off her long legs.
“Miss Harkness-” Rio began, moving a little further into the room, apprehensive. She could hardly take her eyes of the woman, who didn’t even look up as she entered. A blush creept up her pale cheeks.
‘God... This is so pathetic’ Rio thought to herself, only realised she’d muttered it aloud when it had slipped from her parted lips.
Agatha’s gaze snapped up, an eyebrow raising as she looking Rio up and down.
“Ah, Rhiannon, finally!” She says, reaching out for her coffee, her lips pressing together into a slight pout when she tasted the lukewarm liquid. She tutted, setting it down on her desk.
“It's just-” Rio begins, before the words die in her mouth as Agatha’s bright blue eyes meet her gaze. She’d grown used to Agatha using the wrong name and no longer bothered correcting her. It seemed to be something the older woman did on purpose, but Rio tried not to let it bug her too much.
“Where's the top from?” Agatha says suddenly, her eyes flicking across Rio’s chest and the dark green sleeveless top she’d hastily thrown on this morning. Despite the wrinkles, Rio was quite proud of this one, so she smiled, seizing her opportunity
“Oh, this thing? I made it a couple weeks ago. I do tons of designs, maybe I could show you a couple? If you have time? Maybe?” Rio says, the words slipping from her mouth at an increasingly high speed as her nerves grew.
“You need to hem to bottom” Agatha replied flatly, already clicking away at her computer again. The older woman waved her hand dismissively.
“There’s a stack of designs from the rat's downstairs. Look through them all and trash any awful ones, boring ones, shit ones, et cetera” She says with an obnoxious smile, gesturing vaguely to the other side of the room, where a dark oak desk that was supposed to be Rio’s workspace was already stacked practically to the ceiling with sketchbooks and scraps of paper.
Rio held back a scoff, Agatha’s dismissive demeanour rubbing her the wrong way as usual. She turned her gaze to the towering stack of sketches, absolutely dreading sorting through them all. Though, perhaps she could slip a couple of her own designs into the mix, and then maybe Agatha would notice them, notice her...
Rio sighed softly and made her way over to the desk, having to stand up on the chair to retrieve the sketchbook at the top of the pile, producing a snicker from Agatha, who had taken to observing Rio’s work.
“Any specific criteria for trash other than ‘It Sucks’?” Rio tries, raising an eyebrow and turning back to face the woman.
“Well, if you wouldn't wear it, it must be truly awful darling. I trust your judgement. Anything that doesn't stick to the brand, anything too out there, anything you could have drawn, anything that looks like it's been done by a high schooler on shrooms, toss them. I can't stand mediocrity” Agatha said, her expression apathetic as she continued to type. “Simple, no?”
Rio nodded along as she flipped through the first book. She felt awful casting away peoples hard work, but this one was certainly too out there for Agatha’s classic tastes, she thought, a smile creeping onto her face as she studied more eccentric, unique designs.
‘You're at the wrong fashion house’ Rio thought as she placed it firmly in the “trash” pile
Agatha took a sip of her coffee, which was well and truly cold now, though she didn't have the heart to tell the younger woman, who already looked exhausted. She continued watching Rio, her eyes drifting over her petite figure, and the way her deep green shirt exposed a sliver of her stomach. She couldn't help but admit the woman had a certain appeal...
“Oh, and don't take too long.” She added before turning away. “I don't have all day for you to ponder every shitty sketch. I expect you to be done by lunch”
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