Bound by duty, drawn by something else
The conference room is abuzz with activity as anxious politicians and journalists fill the space, eagerly awaiting Piper Chapman's official announcement of her candidacy for the governorship of New York state. The atmosphere is electric, with anticipation and excitement palpable in the air. Piper, meanwhile, is composed and focused, mentally preparing herself for the monumental moment that lies ahead. As she approaches the podium, all eyes are on her. The room falls silent as she clears her throat and begins to speak. Her voice is clear and confident as she outlines her vision for the future of the state, her passion for public service evident in every word she utters. The crowd is mesmerized, hanging on her every syllable as she paints a vivid picture of her plans for education, healthcare, and infrastructure. She speaks incessantly for several minutes. Ten? Fifteen? It's difficult to say, for she manages to keep her listeners so attentive and captivated that anyone could swear her speech lasted only a few moments. As she finishes her speech, the room erupts in applause, with politicians and journalists alike rushing to congratulate her on a rousing and inspiring address. She is beaming with pride, thrilled to have made her mark and set the tone for what promises to be an exciting and competitive campaign. However, amidst the excitement, she is acutely aware that her life is about to change dramatically. Her private and professional spheres will be subject to intense scrutiny and pressure, and the road ahead will undoubtedly be fraught with challenges and obstacles. She begins to feel her throat getting dry and scratchy and she takes a deep breath and reaches for the glass of water on the podium, taking a long sip to soothe her parched throat. Despite her dry mouth, she feels energized and focused, ready to tackle the upcoming round of questions from the press.
She surveys the audience with a keen eye, taking in the sea of faces before her. Suddenly, her attention is drawn to a young woman seated towards the back, her skin as black as coal, yet radiating an unmistakable sense of strength and conviction. With a determined look on her face, the woman eagerly raises her hand, her eyes bright and her posture erect, as if bracing herself to speak her mind. Piper's eyes flicker towards her outstretched hand, and she can feel a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She nods in her direction and smiles warmly, indicating that she is happy to take her question.
"Yes, go ahead," she says, gesturing towards the woman with an open hand.
The young woman stands up and takes a deep breath, looking around at the audience as she prepares to speak. Piper notices that her hands are a little shaky, but she can also see the determination and conviction in her eyes. "Thank you so much, Ms. Chapman," she begins, her voice clear and steady. "I'm Tasha Jefferson, from The New York Times. What inspired you to run for governor?"
Piper smiles warmly at Tasha, sensing her eagerness to get to the heart of the matter. She takes a deep breath before answering, knowing that this is an important question that she has been asked many times before. "I believe that our state deserves leaders who are committed to making a real difference in the lives of its people. As someone who has worked in public service for many years, I have seen firsthand the challenges that our communities face, and I am determined to do everything in my power to help address them."
Tasha nods appreciatively and says, "Thank you, Ms. Chapman." She then sits down, satisfied with the response she received.
Piper smiles at her again, feeling grateful for the young reporter's engagement and interest in her campaign. She knows that the media plays an important role in shaping public opinion, and she is determined to foster strong relationships with journalists like Tasha throughout her campaign. She looks out at the audience, ready to field the next question.
"Joe Caputo, The Wall Street Journal," says a middle-aged man with a deep voice and a no-nonsense attitude.
Piper braces herself for Joe's tough question, knowing that he is known for being skeptical of politicians. She meets his gaze with a steely determination, ready to defend her candidacy and prove that she has what it takes to lead the state.
"What do you think sets you apart from the other candidates?" he asks.
"I believe that my experience in public service, combined with my passion for making a positive impact, makes me uniquely qualified to serve as governor. I have a clear vision for the future of our state, and I am confident that I can work with both sides of the aisle to achieve real results for the people of New York."
Joe raises an eyebrow at her response, clearly not satisfied with her answer. He leans forward, pressing Piper for more details. "That's all well and good, Ms. Chapman, but what specific policies do you plan to implement to achieve those results?"
Piper takes a deep breath, feeling the pressure building. She knows that Joe's question is a valid one and that she needs to be able to articulate a clear and comprehensive platform if she hopes to win over voters. "Well, Mr. Caputo, as governor, I plan to focus on a number of key issues, including education reform, job creation, and healthcare access. I believe that by investing in these areas and working collaboratively with stakeholders, we can create a brighter future for all New Yorkers."
Joe nods slowly. "Thank you, Ms. Chapman," he says, "that's a very thoughtful answer."
Piper feels a surge of relief, grateful to have successfully navigated Joe's tough questioning. She knows that she still has a long way to go in terms of convincing skeptical voters, but she feels more confident than ever that she is up to the challenge. As Joe takes his seat, she turns to the next reporter, ready to tackle whatever questions they may have.
A young Latina reporter with bright red lipstick and a warm smile says, "Maritza Ramos, from El Diario. You mentioned the issue of healthcare, how do you plan to tackle it?"
Piper is heartened by Maritza's friendly demeanor, feeling an instant connection with her. She leans forward, eager to discuss her plans for healthcare and to hear Maritza's thoughts on the issue. "As I said, healthcare is one of my top priorities. I believe that every person in our state deserves access to affordable, high-quality healthcare, and I am committed to working with healthcare providers, policymakers, and other stakeholders to make that a reality. I plan to prioritize preventative care and mental health services, and to work to expand coverage and reduce costs for all New Yorkers," she says.
Maritza nods, looking interested in her response. She scribbles a few notes in her notebook before asking a follow-up question. "That's great to hear, Ms. Chapman. But how specifically do you plan to address the issue of healthcare disparities in our state, particularly for communities of color and low-income individuals?"
Piper pauses, considering the importance of the issue that Maritza has raised. She knows that healthcare disparities are a complex and pressing problem that require innovative and targeted solutions. "Well, Maritza, I believe that we need to take a multi-faceted approach to addressing healthcare disparities. This includes increasing funding for community health centers and expanding Medicaid coverage, as well as implementing policies to address systemic inequalities and improve healthcare outcomes for marginalized communities. I am committed to working with experts in the field and community leaders to develop effective and equitable solutions."
Maritza nods thoughtfully, impressed by Piper's thorough and thoughtful response. "Thank you for your answer, Ms. Chapman," she says warmly. "I think that healthcare is such an important issue, and I'm glad to see that you're taking it seriously."
Piper smiles, feeling grateful for the opportunity to discuss such important issues. As Maritza takes her seat, she turns her attention to the next question, ready to continue the conversation.
"Sam Healy, CNN," says a serious-looking reporter with an unkempt attire and a piercing stare. "What are your thoughts on climate change, Ms. Chapman?" he asks his question in a monotone voice, showing no emotion or expression.
Piper feels a twinge of nerves as Sam fixes his gaze on her, knowing that his question will require her to think deeply about a complex issue. She takes a moment to compose herself before answering, hoping to convey her passion and commitment to addressing this urgent challenge. "Climate change is one of the biggest challenges facing our state and our planet. As governor, I plan to make significant investments in renewable energy, work to reduce emissions, and prioritize sustainability in all of our policies and initiatives. We owe it to future generations to take bold action on this critical issue."
"Thank you for your response," Sam says flatly, before taking his seat.
Piper feels a bit confused by his lack of feedback, but she maintains her composure and smiles at the room. "One last question," she says, scanning the audience for a raised hand. Finally, she sees a fiery curly-haired older woman sitting in the back of the room, and nods towards her.
"Hi, it's Rosa Cisneros from The New Yorker," she introduces herself. "How will you address the issue of systemic racism in our state?" the woman asks.
Piper can see the determination and intensity in Rosa's eyes, and she knows that this is a crucial issue that she must address with care and sensitivity. She takes a deep breath and begins to answer, aware of the weight of her words. "Systemic racism is a deeply ingrained problem in our society, and it will take a concerted effort from all levels of government and society to address it," she says, her tone earnest and empathetic. "As governor, I will work to ensure that our policies and practices are equitable and inclusive, and that we are actively working to dismantle the systems of oppression that have caused so much harm and suffering. This will involve listening to the voices of marginalized communities, taking action to address their concerns, and holding ourselves accountable for making meaningful progress."
Rosa nods thoughtfully, seeming to appreciate Piper's answer. "Thank you for your response, Ms. Chapman. How do you plan to engage with the communities most affected by systemic racism?"
Piper pauses for a moment, considering Rosa's question. "I believe in the importance of listening to and learning from the communities that are most affected by these issues. As governor, I will work to establish open lines of communication and to create opportunities for meaningful dialogue and collaboration. This includes partnering with community-based organizations and leaders to identify and address the specific needs and challenges of these communities."
Rosa nods again, looking satisfied with Piper's response. "Thank you, Ms. Chapman. That's all I have for now."
Piper smiles warmly at Rosa, grateful for the opportunity to discuss such an important issue. "Thank you, Ms. Cisneros. I appreciate your question."
She takes a moment to gather herself and looks out at the sea of reporters, feeling proud of herself for handling their questions with grace and poise, "Thank you all for your thoughtful questions," she says smiling, her voice calm and composed. "I believe I've addressed everything that's been asked, but if you have any additional questions, please don't hesitate to reach out to my team."
As she gathers her things and prepares to leave, she feels a bit tired but also energized. The adrenaline rush of being on stage and answering tough questions has left her feeling invigorated, but she knows she needs to take a break and rest. "It's like coming down from a high," she thinks to herself, chuckling inwardly. She steps off the platform and shakes hands with her colleagues and party members, feeling grateful for their support.
"Great job, Piper," one of her advisors says, patting her on the back. "You really held your own up there."
Piper nods. "Thanks, I appreciate that. But now, I really need to go," she says, giving a small wave as she makes her way out of the conference room.
As she glides down the hallway, she feels a sense of exhaustion creeping in. She feels the sweat running down her neck, a reminder of the pressure she was under during the press conference, and she just can't wait to escape to her sanctuary, her office, where she can finally release the pent-up stress that has been building up inside her. She eagerly anticipates the cool refreshment of her favorite coconut-flavored water, beckoning her from the fridge, and the satisfying crunch of a vegetarian sandwich from the cafeteria. As she daydreams about her upcoming oasis, her mind drifts off into a world of fantasy, where she lounges on the couch, staring out the window at the sprawling cityscape below. The soothing melody of 80s music playing on the record player fills her ears, a respite from the cacophony of the outside world. She eagerly imagines sinking her teeth into the delicious sandwich, savoring each bite without a care in the world when suddenly, her reverie is broken as one of her bosses, Larry, dashes down the hallway towards her. He's a young, dark-haired, and slightly attractive man, not much older than her, exuding a frenzied energy that clashes with her serene mood.
"Hey, Piper, you almost slipped away from me," he jests lightly. "Come to the conference room on the 14th floor around 3 this afternoon, we need to discuss several issues about your campaign," he adds casually, in a friendly and somewhat flirty tone, as he usually refers to Piper, something that, depending on her mood, she either enjoys or loathes. It really depends on the day.
Piper, feeling taken aback and fatigued, responds with frustration, "What issues?" She had anticipated relaxing and working on her own for the remainder of the day, and the prospect of having to meet with her team in the middle of the afternoon interferes with her desired plans.
Larry senses Piper's sharp and cold demeanor, causing him to become more serious, attempting not to upset her. "It's about discussing the whole security issue that Justin mentioned the other day."
Justin. One of her other "bosses." He is not young, friendly, or attractive, but what he is is good at his job, a true veteran in politics, who knows what he's doing and is truly respected and never questioned. At the idea of having to discuss the topic again, Piper rolls her eyes and retorts, "Okay, see you at 3," before turning around and leaving.
After finishing her lunch and going through several emails while organizing her schedule, Piper stands up from her desk and heads to the bathroom — a private washroom within her office. Standing before the mirror, she takes a long, hard look at her reflection, examining her face for any signs of fatigue. She feels around the corners of her eyes, ensuring that no bags have formed beneath them. With a deep breath, she splashes cool water onto her face and reaches for her toothbrush. As she brushes her teeth, she focuses on the bristles moving methodically across her teeth, drowning out the noise of the outside world. Once she's finished, she turns her attention to her makeup, carefully touching up any imperfections. Satisfied with her work, she takes a step back and reaches for the elastic band in her hair, letting it down to frame her face. She's always been meticulous about her appearance, and today is no exception. She straightens her collar and tucks in her shirt with precision, making sure that every detail is in place. Her gray pencil skirt hugs her curves in all the right places, and she pulls on a matching blazer to complete the look and, taking another deep breath, she leaves her office and heads towards the conference room, not particularly eager to see anyone, especially not Justin.
Upon entering the room, she finds five men waiting for her — all members of her team. Justin presides at the head of the table, his impeccable white bald head shining under the fluorescent lights. They greet her as she enters and quickly resume their conversation about basketball.
Piper checks the time, it's already three o'clock. She sits down on her chair and clears her throat loudly, interrupting them and saying, "Well, shall we get started?"
Larry immediately agrees, "It's time, let's get to it."
"What a brown-noser," Piper thinks to herself, but sometimes Larry's annoying attitude and his eagerness to please work in her favor, and she likes to take advantage of it. She smiles at Larry, thanking him, and he winks at her.
Justin looks at them and laughs, mocking them a little. He then proceeds to completely ignore what was said and turns to the man on his left to finish clarifying the details of the conversation they were having, something about getting tickets for a game for him and his daughter, or something like that. Who cares anyway. After a few seconds of keeping everyone waiting, he decides they can start. He turns to Piper and says, "Alright, sweetheart," in an utterly patronizing and mansplaining tone, "we're going to talk about a couple of things that absolutely have to happen, whether you like it or not, and this time I want you to listen carefully and make an effort to understand what I'm going to say. But a real effort, an active one, got it?" he says with unbearable arrogance.
Piper musters the best poker face she has, an expression that belies the seething rage within her. It takes a superhuman effort, for her body is begging her to unleash the worst scowl she has ever given anyone and hurl a few choice insults. Nevertheless, she is practical enough and values her work, time, and that of the rest of her team enough to not throw months of effort out the window by making a scene and destabilizing the team at such a delicate moment. Once she's sure she can produce a polite and pleasant tone of voice, she says, "Alright, tell me."
Justin turns to the men on his left and orders them to pass a couple of folders to Piper. "Mendez, Bennett, give Piper the reports and summaries from the meetings on security protocols we had yesterday." The men comply, sliding a pair of folders across the table towards Piper. She extends her arm and delicately places the folders on the table in front of her, maintaining eye contact with Justin the entire time. "Good," says Justin. "Those are the conclusions we've reached and the party has approved. During the campaign, we need to provide you with a protection team. That's it. We need to increase security in the office and your personal life. It's not up for debate. That's what the guidelines say, that's what we've been advised, and that's what we've concluded. All of this nonsense about privacy violations and whatnot is irrelevant and not a priority right now. Keeping you safe and maintaining your image and that of the party, that's the priority. We've hired a new security company, and you'll be assigned an escort who will accompany you to all your events and public appearances. Every single one. And they will travel with you in the car at all times. Is that clear?"
Piper feels a sense of disgust wash over her as Justin's arrogant tone fills the room. She can't believe that he really thinks it's okay to disregard her privacy and personal freedom in the name of politics. She takes a deep breath and calmly responds, "I understand your concerns and appreciate the measures being taken to ensure my safety. However, I would like to discuss the details of this security plan and make sure that my privacy is not completely compromised in the process."
Justin's expression remains stern as he responds, "Of course, we can discuss the details further. But let's be clear, the safety of our candidate is not negotiable."
Piper nods, feeling frustrated but also determined to stand up for herself and her rights. She gathers the folders and rises from her seat, saying, "Thank you for the information. I'll review these reports and we can continue this conversation another day."
Justin's paternalistic gaze meets Piper's, a look she despises. She's certain he wouldn't look at a man her age the same way. He doesn't with Larry. Then, with a smug grin, he tells her, "Sit down, beautiful. We can read them all out loud here and go over the points and what we think of them together. We're closing this matter today and now, whether you like it or not, as the measures take effect tomorrow."
The other four men observe the conversation in silence, somewhat cut off by the tension in the air. Piper looks at Justin perplexed, his attitude not surprising her at all, as he's always been this way, but she can't help but be amazed every time he displays his repugnant and unbearable behavior. She stands frozen in place, holding the folders in her hands, looking at him.
Larry, trying to lend a hand, says, "There's not much to discuss anymore, Piper. What's in those reports is what we're going to do, but let's review them in case you have any requests or adjustments that we can make to make you more comfortable, okay?"
Piper shifts her gaze and looks a little closer to Larry's eyes as he speaks. She knows he means well, but he also talks to her with a patronizing tone, as if she were a disgruntled little girl that you want to please so she doesn't throw an unjustified tantrum in front of everyone. She appreciates that Larry always tries to be pleasant — although she suspects that his intentions and motivations for doing so are not the purest and most selfless — but she's still tired of feeling caught in the middle of this good cop-bad cop game between her two superiors. Finally, she drops the folders with a thud on the table and says, "If you've already decided that this is what we're going to do no matter what, I have little to contribute. I just ask you, for the love of God, that the escort you provide me with is not a man. I can't stand another one of you "taking care of me"," she says in a mocking tone before walking towards the door and saying, "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot to do. See you tomorrow, gentlemen."
She walks out of the meeting room, closing the door slowly behind her and leaning her back against it, letting out a deep breath. For a few seconds, she tries to regain her composure, reminding herself why she's here, doing what she's doing. She replays in her mind all the things that motivate her to keep going, all the things that she's passionate about, until she convinces herself that all the nerves and anger that come with this job day in and day out are something she can handle, and that all this effort is worth it. Then, she walks back to her office, ready to make some final touches and go home to prepare for her first day of campaigning tomorrow.
As the morning sun begins to filter through the curtains, Piper slowly stirs from her peaceful slumber. She stretches her arms and legs, relishing the feeling of being well-rested and refreshed. With a contented sigh, she rises from her soft, cozy bed and begins her morning routine. She moves with a calm and focused grace as she begins her yoga practice, moving through each pose with fluidity and ease. The soft light of dawn spills into her apartment, casting a warm glow over everything around her. After twenty minutes of yoga, she takes a hot shower, letting the steam envelope her in a warm embrace.
Dressed in soft, comfortable clothes and wrapped in a cozy blanket, she steps out onto her long terrace overlooking Central Park. The view takes her breath away every time — the lush greenery of the park spreading out before her, the skyscrapers of the city towering in the distance. And she sets about watering her plants. The morning air is crisp and fresh, filling her lungs with each breath. She savors the peacefulness of the moment, feeling completely at ease in her own company.
With her morning chores complete, she heads back inside to prepare breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and she savors the rich, deep flavor as she sips her first cup. She slices an egg and lettuce toast and puts on some music from her vinyl collection, the sound filling her apartment with warmth and nostalgia. And then she goes back to her terrace and basks in the warm sun as she enjoys her breakfast.
As she finishes her meal, she washes her face and brushes her teeth before getting dressed for the day ahead. She takes her time, selecting her outfit with care and attention to detail. Today, she is wearing a beautiful and elegant, knee-length, dark blue fitted dress. Finally, she does her hair and makeup, either straightening her locks or pulling them up in a stylish updo — today she decides to leave them loose. Then, she heads down to her car, which picks her up every day at nine in the morning from underneath her building.
Upon arriving at the office, the clock reads a mere 9:10 am. Piper steps onto the floor of her workplace, greeted immediately by her lively assistant, Marisol. With a beaming smile and a boundless energy, Marisol rushes up to her side, breathless from the effort of keeping up with her brisk pace.
"Ms. Chapman, you need to go to Mr. Harris's office. Justin's waiting for you," Marisol gasps out, still catching her breath.
Piper nods her thanks to the bubbly young woman and then makes a quick request. "Could you bring a coffee to his office in about five or ten minutes?"
"Of course, Ms. Chapman," Marisol replies with a smile that seems to light up the whole floor.
Her positive attitude is infectious and Piper can't help but feel grateful for such a wonderful assistant. "Thank you," she responds, returning the smile as she rushes off down the hallway.
Marisol waves goodbye to her boss and turns in the opposite direction, heading towards the cafeteria with a spring in her step.
Piper continues on her way and arrives at Justin's office. She knocks twice on the door until she hears him say, "Come in, come in."
With a sudden burst of energy, she swings open the door and strides into the room. Her head is held high, and her eyes sparkle with intensity as she locks onto Justin, who sits behind an imposing mahogany desk. "Marisol told me you wanted to see me," she says in a direct and confident tone. She maintains eye contact with him, refusing to let her gaze stray from his piercing stare. Despite the two other figures seated on the opposite side of the table, she remains focused solely on Justin. Her body language conveys her unwavering confidence, and she refuses to let the presence of others in the room distract her from her goal.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart," Justin responds, his tone dripping with his usual smugness. "Come on in. I want you to meet someone," and as he speaks, one of the figures seated across from him rises from their chair and turns to face Piper. Piper looks away from Justin to see an imposing, tall and slender woman dressed in an impeccable black suit that spectacularly emphasizes her figure. Her hair is jet-black and lustrous, pulled back into a low ponytail that draws attention to her sharp features. Her makeup is subtle but expertly applied, with a hint of eyeliner that makes her green eyes seem almost feline. Piper feels slightly overwhelmed by the woman's commanding presence. "This is Agent Vause," Justin explains, gesturing towards the woman. "Your personal escort. Larry and I were just bringing her up to speed on a few things, but you can finish telling her whatever it is you need to tell her."
Despite Justin's words, Piper cannot help but continue to study the woman in front of her, her eyes traveling up and down her form.
"Come on, introduce yourselves, for God's sake," Justin chides, urging them both forward.
Slowly, Piper approaches the other woman, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Vause," she says, her voice friendly but tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "You can call me Piper."
The woman extends her hand to meet Piper's and provide her with the handshake she offered with feline grace, her hands cold but soft as velvet. "Likewise, Piper," she replies, with a serious tone of voice and a deep, raspy voice that sends a shiver down Piper's spine.
Larry speaks from his seat, as always too kind. "Ms. Vause is a former high-level security agent and now works for the party," he states in his soft-spoken voice, his words laced with a hint of deference. "A woman, as you requested."
Agent Vause remains standing, her gaze locked onto Piper, out of Larry's peripheral view. She rolls her eyes in response to his comment, unable to hide her disdain for his tone.
Piper notices the eye roll, but chooses to ignore it, looking at Larry and smiling in response.
Justin stands tall in his office, his sharp voice cuts through the air, demanding the attention of all those around him. "Well then," he begins, his eyes darting around the room to meet the gaze of his colleagues. "Now all of you get out of here, I have a lot to do." As he speaks, he gestures with his hands in a dismissive manner, shooing them away like unwanted pests. The room falls silent as his subordinates quickly make their way to the door, eager to escape his piercing gaze. "Oh, Piper, Vause," he calls out, halting them in their tracks. "Remember what I told you both." He turns to Agent Vause, his eyes narrowing as he speaks. "You're her fucking shadow, you hear me? Her fucking shadow. And now get out of here."
The three of them exit the office, and Larry takes the opportunity to greet Piper in a more private setting, away from Justin's scrutinizing gaze. He leans in close to her, his eyes taking in her appearance with admiration and compliments her on her appearance this morning. As he turns to Vause, however, his demeanor changes. He gestures for her to step back, his disrespectful behavior drawing a huff of frustration from the agent. She takes a few steps back, never taking her eyes off of Piper, as Larry speaks.
"Would you like to grab a coffee with me before we start the day?" he asks, his tone friendly and inviting.
Piper excuses herself, citing the need to attend to a few things before the day begins. "I think I'm just going to go straight to my office. I have a couple of things to take care of before starting the day, and I have to show" she says, gesturing towards the agent standing next to them, "her around the office and go over my schedule and all that stuff. Maybe another time."
Despite her refusal, Larry's friendly demeanor does not falter. With a final smile, he places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Definitely. I'll let you get back to it then. See you later," he says before turning and walking away.
As Larry turns the corner of the hallway, Piper looks over at Agent Vause, who stands tall and watches her intently. With a self-conscious smile, she apologizes, "Excuse them, they're always like this. I guess it's the price you pay for working in politics surrounded by men who always know what's best for you. But what can I tell you? With your job, you must have seen it all."
"I'm not paid to judge," the agent replies curtly.
Piper is taken aback by her tone, although she knows she's right, and acknowledges that it's a highly professional response. She should be grateful that someone finally takes her seriously and shows some respect for her position and profession in this building. Still, she had hoped for a somewhat more pleasant or empathetic response from the woman. "Of course, yeah, sorry. I didn't mean that. I apologize." The agent forces a smile, and Piper laments, fearing that she may have offended her in some way. What a way to start the day. "Come on, let's go to my office."
Vause follows obediently, walking behind her with an upright posture and an intimidating gaze, studying the office as they make their way through it. After a couple of corridors, they arrive at a frosted glass door with Piper's full name engraved on it.
Piper stops in front of the door and turns to look at the agent. She does it abruptly and in just a few tenths of a second, and without knowing how, she finds herself just centimeters away from Vause, startling her a little. Vause is slightly taller than her, but only slightly. Her face up close is even more perfect than it had seemed at first. Her skin is pale and smooth, immaculate. Her eyes are large and of an intense shade of green that Piper has never seen before, neither in other eyes nor in any other place. Her lips are round and of a beautiful pink tone, they don't seem to wear any makeup and yet to Piper, they seem to be taken from a painting, painted with the delicacy with which a lover would paint those of their muse.
The Agent Vause, right away, startled takes a step back, separating abruptly from Piper and sending a small gust of air in her direction due to her quick movement. Every cell in Piper's body immediately misses her proximity, and she feels a pang in her chest, but she receives the whiff of her scent with pleasure. She's wearing a delicate perfume, like lavender and some trace of wood. It's not at all a sweet smell but it's still feminine and very pleasant.
Piper blinks rapidly trying to compose herself and says, "Uh, well, this is my office. Have you noticed the path we've taken to get here?"
The agent nods, "Yes, Ms. Chapman."
And Piper could swear that her voice trembles a little when she says those words, as if she too were making an effort to maintain composure over what just happened. She laments again, fearing she may have made her uncomfortable. "Why do I always have to be so clumsy?" She asks herself. "Call me Piper," she reminds her with a friendly smile and tone. "And would you know how to get from here to the elevators?"
The agent nods again, "I think so. It's the way we came, past the big counter and then to the right in the lobby."
"That's right."
It is already late evening on a Monday, and Alex is peacefully painting the walls of her new apartment's living room. Well, in reality, the apartment is not new; she has been living there for several weeks, but so far, she has not had time to truly settle in and organize herself and her belongings. However, it seems that this week she will finally have the time to do just that. Her contract with her last client had ended a couple of days ago, and according to the agency, her next job would not start for approximately a week. Thus, Alex wants to take full advantage of the time she has to become fully settled before then.
She is standing on a ladder, painting the upper part of the wall and the moldings, which are a bit chipped due to the humidity. The apartment is small but has an old-fashioned and charming air to it. It is a mezzanine, not at street level nor as high as a first floor, and it is a single room, a studio, with a small, well-renovated bathroom. The wall facing the street has a large window that provides a lot of light to the space but, in turn, offers little privacy. Alex plans to take measurements now and go tomorrow to look for some kind of fabric curtains or venetian blinds to add privacy and control the amount of light that filters through it.
When she has almost finished the first wall, her phone starts ringing. It is behind her, on the kitchen counter. She quickly descends from the ladder, with her gloves covered in paint and the brush in her hand, trying not to stain everything around her. She places the brush on a piece of cardboard on the floor and removes her gloves, trying not to get paint on her hands. She manages to answer the phone in time without checking who it is.
"Yes?" she asks.
"Vause?" says a male voice on the other end of the line.
Alex recognizes the voice immediately; it is Fahri, her boss. "Yes, tell me," she replies calmly, although somewhat surprised to receive a work call at this hour.
"Where are you? Can you talk for a second?"
"Yes, yes. I'm at home. Tell me, everything okay?"
"Perfect, yes, everything's fine. Listen, there has been a change of plans. I know I told you that you wouldn't start with your next clients until next week. But we just got a call from other clients who gave us some new guidelines, asking for a female agent for a job that starts tomorrow, and we had assigned a male agent. They want a woman, it's non-negotiable, and the one with the best experience. So, you are going to take this job."
Alex grits her teeth at her boss's words. She is annoyed at the lack of time and preparation to start the new job and the realization that she will have to keep living in a half-finished apartment for who knows how long. She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her anger, and asks, "Do I have to be the one to do it?" but she is not very good at concealing how she really feels about the situation.
Fahri sighs, "Yes, Alex. I'm sorry."
"And I start tomorrow?"
"Yes. At nine sharp in the morning. I'll send you an email with the details now."
"Okay. Goodnight."
"Rest well. And I'm sorry. I owe you a drink or something, yeah?"
Alex smiles a bit at her boss's reluctance, and the fact that he feels like he should apologize for just doing his job, which can be a pain sometimes, and it's no one's fault. "I'll take note of that."
Fahri chuckles. "Okay, see you. Goodnight."
"Bye." She hungs up.
As the morning sun begins to filter through the large window, Alex rises from her slumber and promptly steps into the shower. Without wasting any time, she quickly washes up before heading to her closet to retrieve one of her work outfits that she had carefully ironed the night before, determined to make the most of her time this morning. The house still reeks of paint, despite having ventilated for several hours last night and a while longer this morning. She dresses herself in haste, tossing a small bottle of perfume and a hairbrush into her bag before exiting the building.
After walking a couple of blocks, she enters a quaint little café and orders a takeaway coffee. Continuing on her journey, she strolls another block down to the garage where her company car is parked. Once inside the car, she turns on the heat and the lights, flips down the mirror on the ceiling, and skillfully applies eyeliner with astonishing precision. She connects her iPod to the radio, turns on some music, and quietly sips her coffee, perusing her phone for information on her new client, Piper Chapman.
Piper Chapman, a young and promising politician who recently announced her candidacy for Governor of New York. Tall, blonde, and beautiful, she exudes an air of wealth and haughtiness, or so Alex believes. She reads up on her background, where she studied, her family, and personal life. She comes from a well-to-do family, has two siblings, and she is the brightest and most successful child, likely the pride and joy of her parents. The top of her class in both high school and college, she always lived her life according to the book, meeting all of society's expectations and stereotypes. A classic overachiever, except that she had not yet married a man of renown and success, but that is literally the only thing she lacks.
When she finishes her coffee, she checks her hair, which is still not completely dry, but time is tight. She pulls her brush out of her bag and quickly untangles it. Then, she sprays some perfume, hoping that the scent of paint from her apartment didn't linger on her clothes and, with everything done, she sets off for her new place of work.
Approximately twenty minutes later, she arrives at the building. As Fahri had indicated in the email, a worker is waiting to show her where to park her car. She parks and ties her now-dry hair into a low ponytail before exiting the vehicle and walking towards the front door, attempting to familiarize herself with the conventional entrance. She approaches the reception desk and identifies herself, where she is directed to undergo a security check and told where she needs to go next. Alex obediently complies, and after a couple of routine checks, a few identifications, and several elevator rides, she arrives at the office of the man she was scheduled to meet at 9 this morning; Justin Harris.
She approaches the door and raps her knuckles against the sturdy wood. A moment later, it swings open to reveal a young man, perhaps thirty or thirty-five years of age. He stands before her, dressed in a smart suit.
"Mr. Harris?" she asks, feeling a tinge of surprise. She had expected Mr. Harris to be considerably older.
"You must be Agent Vause," the young man replies smoothly. "Please, come in. We've been expecting you."
Alex follows him inside, her eyes scanning the elegant furnishings of the room. The air is heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and freshly polished wood. She pauses for a moment, hesitant, before speaking. "I'm sorry, am I late?" she asks, her voice soft but determined.
The man behind the desk, who is considerably older than the one who opened the door, is bald as a billiard ball and exudes an air of superiority in every gesture, sneer, and inch of his body. He smiles thinly at her, taking in her appearance with a cool appraisal. "Not at all, sweetheart," he says smoothly. "In fact, we still have a few minutes before nine. But that's even better. It gives us more time to talk. Please, have a seat. I am Mr. Harris, and this is Mr. Bloom."
Alex stands there, her face expressionless, as yet another arrogant man approaches her. Her thoughts race like a wild stallion, galloping across her mind. "Ah, awesome," she thinks to herself, "another haughty man to add to the collection of haughty men I have had to work for." In an instant, her desire to meet Piper — whom she had previously felt no interest in meeting — becomes overwhelming. Anything to get away from this man as soon as possible. With a graceful nod, she takes a chair, her eyes flickering from one man to the other. She can feel the weight of their gazes upon her.
Justin looks at her with a smug expression and says, "So, Alex Vause, huh?"
"Yes, sir," she replies curtly but amiably.
Larry pulls up a chair and takes a seat beside her. "I assume you're already aware of what you'll be doing here?" he asks.
"Yes, I'll be the personal escort for Ms. Chapman," Alex responds.
"I see you've done your homework," Justin interjects with a pedantic and repulsive tone.
"Always, sir," Alex retorts, maintaining her professional demeanor.
"Well, as for the job, that's it. You'll be Ms. Chapman's personal escort, accompanying her to all events. Whenever she travels in the official car, you'll be with her. That means picking her up every morning with her driver and bringing her to the office, as well as accompanying her home at night. During the campaign, you'll be traveling with her everywhere, and all that. Now, I must warn you that this is all she knows about what you'll be doing. It's possible that you'll also need to accompany her in public, even if they're not official events, but we'll iron out those details later. I just want to let you know that she's not exactly thrilled about having an escort," Justin chuckles, as if making fun of Ms. Chapman and belittling her opinion. "Right, Larry?"
Larry smiles as if laughing at Piper and exposing her in front of a stranger poses no problem for him. "Absolutely," he says between chuckles.
"What a pair of idiots," Alex thinks to herself.
"She'll be annoying about her privacy and such, and if we end up needing you for anything more than just official events, she'll protest and be," Justin sighs, "unbearable, but that's your job, sweetheart. But we'll deal with that when and if it happens."
"Understood," Alex replies simply.
The three of them continue talking for several minutes, Larry and Justin explaining to Alex the ins and outs of the campaign, Piper's itineraries and schedules both in and out of the office, and exactly what is expected of her at every moment and type of official event. Alex listens attentively, making an effort to conceal her disgust every time Justin calls her "sweetheart" or "darling" or any other similar term, or whenever he speaks with the same shitty tone and attitude about Ms. Chapman and Larry plays along. She asks questions when she has them, though they are few and far between, barely a couple.
After approximately ten or fifteen minutes — although Alex could swear they've been hours — someone knocks on the door. Alex immediately notices and assumes that Justin or Larry will attend to the door, but that's not the case. Justin continues talking about what he was saying, ignoring the knocking on the door. A few seconds later, the person knocks on the door again and this time, Justin finishes what he was saying, and only then does he bother to answer in a tired tone, as if he had been annoyed by the completely justified persistence of the person behind the door or something. "Come in, come in."
Alex rolls her eyes inwardly, "What a fucking loser," she thinks.
As soon as the words leave Justin's mouth, the door swiftly opens and in walks a tall, young woman with a spectacular figure. Alex recognizes her immediately as Piper Chapman. Somehow in person, she is even more beautiful than in photographs, where she had already appeared gorgeous but certainly not done justice. She is tall, taller than she had imagined, with lovely thin and never-ending legs. Her straight, fine blonde hair falls delicately and casually, but still neatly, over her narrow shoulders. Her blue eyes shine with such intensity that she can feel it from her seat even when they are not looking at her. And just then, when she thought she had finished analyzing and absorbing the shock of the impression the beautiful young woman had caused her, her delicate lips part to say, "Marisol told me you wanted to see me," in a serious tone, without lifting her gaze from Justin. Alex's stomach churns upon hearing her soft voice. It is delicate, gentle, yet authoritative, a delicate balance between power and grace. It's a voice that could carry across a crowded room, yet still retain an intimacy that felt like a secret shared between friends. It is clear and pure, with a hint of warmth and softness that makes you want to lean in closer and listen. Alex tries to compose herself, without looking away from Piper. She gets the sense that the young woman is trying harder than she knows how to appear tough and implacable, but she is not entirely unsuccessful. Nonetheless, Alex cannot help feeling some tenderness when she realizes that at least part of this act is simply a facade, and that perhaps Piper is not as arrogant as she had originally imagined, but simply a young woman with talent and determination trying to make her way in a world of Justins and Larrys. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge the book by its cover.
Justin greets her with his usual shitty attitude and introduces her to Piper, and as soon as Piper turns to look at her, Alex notices a slight change in her expression. Her once stern and serious demeanor now seems taken aback, as if her appearance had caught her off guard. Alex tries to keep a straight face, but Piper's beautiful blue eyes scrutinizing her don't help. Her eyes are like two clear pools of water, sparkling with a bright and captivating light. The color is a deep, rich blue that draws you in and holds your attention, and they are framed by long lashes that flutter gently with every blink, adding to their allure. Alex can't help but be surprised once again by how stunning Piper is, and inside her chest, nerves battle with the satisfaction of having evoked what she thinks is a reaction of surprise and nerves, and perhaps even slight attraction in Piper.
She barely listens to anything Justin says as he talks incessantly, until suddenly, the stunning blonde woman in front of her takes a few steps in her direction and extends her hand towards her. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Vause," she says in a friendly but slightly nervous tone, or so it seems to Alex. "You can call me Piper."
Alex extends her hand and shakes Piper's delicately but firmly. Her hands feel soft and thin, delicate. "Likewise, Piper," she replies, feeling somewhat strange addressing her by her first name, as if she were taking liberties she shouldn't.
Larry, of course, speaks up again, bragging about how he got her a female escort like Piper had requested. Alex can't help but notice the flirtatious tone that he lets slip and thinks it's ridiculous. This time she really rolls her eyes, sure that her face is out of sight of both Justin and Larry.
Immediately, Justin ushers them out of the office with urgency, as if they were bothering him and this was not a meeting he himself had called. Alex is fed up with him and gladly leaves the office with Piper and Larry.
Once outside, she sees Larry, like a vulture, taking the opportunity to approach Piper and suck up to her. He turns to her and makes a rude gesture indicating that she should step back and give them some space, and Alex concedes and takes a few steps back. And as soon as he turns back to Piper his expression immediately changes back to that of a suck-up. Alex cannot decide which of the two is worse, Justin, who is a complete jerk, but at least he is openly and consistently so, or Larry, who hides his true nature when it suits him.
She listens as Larry is overly "friendly" with Piper, probably more than a superior should be with his subordinate, while inviting her for coffee, and Piper rejects him. Finally, Larry leaves and leaves them alone, and it is then that Piper turns and looks at her, catching her staring directly into her eyes.
In that instant, Alex's heart skips a beat as Piper's blue eyes meet hers, and she observes with amusement as the young woman's face takes on an expression of embarrassment as she says, "Excuse them, they're always like this. I guess it's the price you pay for working in politics surrounded by men who always know what's best for you. But what can I tell you? With your job, you must have seen it all."
She finds it adorable that Piper feels the need to apologize for the two jerks she has no choice but to work with and clearly does not like either. Nevertheless, she chooses to be professional and not give the wrong impression of being nosy or a complainer on her first day. After all, like any good employee on her first day, she wants to impress her new boss, especially this one. "I'm not paid to judge," she replies.
She immediately realizes that her response surprises Piper, as evidenced by her expression, and hopes it was in a good way. "Of course, yeah, sorry. I didn't mean that. I apologize," Piper says. Alex smiles, trying to maintain professionalism and Piper returns the smile and adds, "Come on, let's go to my office."
Alex obediently follows Piper, analyzing the office and trying to memorize every turn they take, creating a mental map of all the hallways and offices. She does her best, attempting not to be distracted by the image of Piper walking in front of her — her body moving with grace and speed, her dress hugging her curves, her hair bouncing with the speed of her walk, sending the scent of her shampoo and perhaps her perfume, or both, towards Alex, a pleasant sweet and fruity fragrance — but it's not easy, not easy at all.
Suddenly, they arrive at a frosted glass door with Piper's name written on it and Piper comes to a sudden stop in front of it and spins around. Alex doesn't have time to react and almost bumps into her. For a few fractions of a second, she finds herself just centimeters away from Piper's face, and her heart does a double take. "Why the hell does this keep happening to me?" her mind protests against the sensations that keep taking place in her chest since Piper has been in her presence. Their eyes are almost at the same height, but she can't observe Piper's with the attention she would like because they are half-closed, as if looking down. She gets the feeling that maybe they're looking at her lips. "No," she thinks, "it can't be. What the hell are you thinking, Vause? This is your new client, stop acting like an idiot." And quickly and chastising herself for fantasizing about nonsense, she takes a step back and separates herself from Piper with determination.
Piper catches her gaze and says, "Uh, well, this is my office," in a somewhat distracted tone. "Have you noticed the path we've taken to get here?"
Alex nods and responds, "Yes, Ms. Chapman," trying to appear professional, which she feels like she's not been doing at all in the past few minutes, but her voice trembles slightly, and she hopes Piper doesn't notice.
"Call me Piper," Piper reminds her, smiling. "And would you know how to get from here to the elevators?"
Alex relaxes at the sight of that smile on her face, and God, if it isn't one of the widest and most beautiful smiles she's ever seen. She tries to snap back to reality and answers, "I think so. It's the way we came, past the big counter and then to the right in the lobby."
"That's right," Piper replies, still smiling, and opens the door.
And right as they are about to enter, a tall young woman with a large brown bun on the top of her head appears in the hallway and says, "Ms. Chapman, I went to Mr. Harris's office and you weren't there anymore. Do you still want your coffee?"
"Oh, Marisol," Piper says, clearly embarrassed and remorseful. "I am so sorry. Yes, thank you very much." She takes the coffee cup that the girl was carrying in her hand. Then she turns to Alex and says, "Would you like one?"
Alex is surprised that she is being offered coffee. Normally, the people she works for do not offer her anything when she is on duty. She appreciates Piper's generosity — becoming increasingly amazed by how far removed she is from the image she had formed of her in her head — but declines the request, not wanting to make the poor girl go for another coffee after chasing them around the office.
And with that, Piper thanks Marisol for her service and enters her office, holding the door for Alex.