Playboy

Definition: A wealthy man who spends his time enjoying himself, especially one who behaves irresponsibly or has many casual sexual relationships.

1st person, Yn pov

Chapter Warnings: Slight sexism from a side character near the end, but no other ones that I can think of/find so far (Unless you count the word "prick" being used once at the end of the chapter.)

"That's all for now darlings! Stay tuned!~" I click the button to shut off the microphone, flipping a switch to play music for the listeners. After I'm entirely sure that the listeners tuned in can't hear me, I let out a heavy breath of air. Looking over to the clock set on the wall, my hand instinctively twitches, finding itself running through my bangs and hair to try and alleviate the on-coming stress-induced headache.

It's only my second week on the job, and despite living in New Orleans for a period of my childhood, I can't help the nervousness that creeps deep inside. The feeling started slow and faint, but the more I've stuck around, the more it devours my mind, twisting and churning in my soul.

'I haven't visited in so long, I wonder if the others will even remember me...' The thought causes me to be still even if I hadn't noticed I was running my hand through my hair, but I stay still. Worry creeps into my gut, the unwanted feeling surrounding me in darkness, my mind being dragged under the thoughts, thinking of the worst. 'I would hope so! I mean...I have kept in touch through letters, but...even then, things around here have changed.' Starting fresh isn't something I've ever been good at coming to any past relationships; friendships, romance, etc.

Shaking my head softly, I dismiss my thoughts, trying to keep a smile on my face, inside and out. Instead of focusing on the negative thoughts, I pick up my notes for topics. The papers inform me of what I'm supposed to speak about on the radio when I'm live. I shift through the paperwork, organizing them further. Being so lost in thought and the motions of work, I startle when a knock comes on my office door.

"W-who is it?" I clear my throat, trying to steady it to keep the surprise out of my tone.

"Apologies for the interruption, Mrs. Morningstar. You have a visitor asking to see you." The secretary-a sweet woman named Anna-peaks her head into my office, awaiting instructions.

'A visitor? I don't recall expecting anyone today...' I set down the papers, folding my hands gently on my desk in a formal style. "Ah, alrighty then! May you send them in, please?" Anna smiles and nods, closing my door behind her when she leaves.

Standing up, I straighten out my clothing, fixing and adjusting the bowtie currently around my neck. My door slams open suddenly, causing me to swiftly turn to it. I find myself being thrown back slightly, a flash of color barrelled towards me, the person responsible now holding me in a tight embrace.

"Yn!" A woman's voice squeals happily, bouncing slightly on the tips of their feet as they hold me tightly. Looking down, it takes a moment to register, but I let out a soft breath of surprise. One of my childhood friends, Mimzy, holds me tightly, a large smile on her face.

"Mimzy?" It takes a moment for me to respond, still not fully registering the reality of this situation. Leaning down, I hug the woman back slightly, still processing the events going on. Her blonde hair tickles my nose slightly, and the smell of cheap perfume and cigarettes invades my sense of smell. "How-Where-?" My eyes flick around my office as I think, stumbling over my words in the process.

The 4'6 ft (137.16 cm) female simply chuckles, patiently waiting as I try to gather my thoughts. She's always said that "My brain runs faster than my mouth, which is why I always stumble over my words," and right now? I'm only proving her point about me. Mimzy pulls away from the hug, looking me up and down as I look over her as well. The shock has subsided slightly, but not fully yet.

Mimzy wears a white feathered headpiece, which is adorned with -most likely fake- jewels and rubies. She's not fat per se, simply a bit chubby, a white flapper dress hugging her figure. Her blonde hair is styled in a bob, allowing her eyes to be seen better. Baby blue eyes look me over, smokey eyeshadow on her eyelids. Her lipstick is a vibrant cherry red, most likely from either doing a show or being ready to do one.

"The one and only Mimzy, suga'!" Mimzy smiles up at me, her southern accent coming through. Looking me up and down once more, her smile softens. "Well, I'll be...when I got your letter, I thought you were jus' jokin'! But, look at'cha!" Gesturing to me with her arms, Mimzy grins, "You're actually here!"

Chuckling, I rub the back of my neck, smiling softly. "Yep! To be honest...I kinda thought'cha might've forgotten about me..." I don't bother hiding my southern accent. I've been in so many places as a child and heard and acquired so many accents and languages. At this point, if someone around me speaks with a specific accent, I have to force myself to talk formally because I have a habit of speaking with the same one afterward. I don't bother hiding mine this time, it feels nice to have a friend again, one that you can simply be yourself around...

"Forgot about you?" Mimzy laughs like I just told the funniest joke she's ever heard. "Darlin'," Pulling me down slightly by my bowtie, she cups my face in her hands, smiling in reassurance. "I'd neva' forget my friend!" Patting my face, she lets go of me and steps back. Staying quiet for a moment, I allow her words to settle in before I let out a soft chuckle.

"Thanks, Mimz." I straighten my back, fixing my posture. "Do you want anything to eat, or drink?" Placing one hand behind my back in a proper stance, I use my other hand to gesture to a table in my office on the other side of the room. Coffee and tea appliances, along with a few snacks, settle on the top of the table. The table is meant for when I go on breaks and I want anything, additionally, it can be used for snacks and drinks whenever I have a visitor or guest.

"Ah, no thanks sugar! I've gotta show to put on soon!" Mimzy smiles up at me before her eyes suddenly widen. "Oh! You can come ta' one of my shows now!"

Thinking for a moment, I go over the letters we've sent over the years to each other. Mimzy has always talked about her shows, not her job as a flapper, but her bar shows. She's always talked about how fun it was to sing, and how she's wished for me to be able to come one day. Mimzy has always been rather excited about any chance for me to see one and has continuously brought up the idea of me singing onstage with her.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I startle slightly, looking down when Mimzy takes my hands in hers. I must've been so lost in thought, and she could definitely tell. Pulling my hands closer to her, Mimzy smiles widely. "Please? It's been so long since we saw each other, and I can promise ya' that it'll be fun! You're always writing about how work has been piling up for ya', and this could be a relaxing experience!"

After a moment of thinking, I nod. "I should be free after work, so I might be able to make it for one today." As soon as the words leave my mouth, a wide grin settles on her face.

"Oh thank you, suga'! I promise you'll be glad that'cha came! Oh, this is just wonderful!" Mimzy lets go of my hands, waving hers around happily. "Let me just..." She looks around suddenly, scanning over my office. I find myself surprised when she suddenly takes a pen out of the pocket of my suit vest, the sudden move catching me off guard. Mimzy rushes over to my desk, ripping a blank sheet of paper from my personal notepad.

"Mimzy, is everything alright?" For a moment, I worry about the woman's actions, thinking something was wrong. When she doesn't answer and begins scribbling something on the paper, I take a few steps over to her. "Mimzy? Is something the mat[ter?]-" I'm cut off whenever she suddenly turns towards me, grabbing onto my bowtie so fast it could have caused whiplash. Pulling me down to her height, Mimzy smiles at me, folding the paper with one hand and placing it in my vest pocket. Handing me my pen, she turns to my office door, walking over to it.

"See ya' around, Yn!" Mimzy turns back around to face me, giving me a playful wink before leaving my office. I'm left alone with 10 minutes left of my break.

'That's odd...Usually, she'd be happier to stay,' Shrugging gently, I dismiss the thought from my mind. 'Mimzy did say that she has a show soon.' Leaving my thoughts at that, I walk over to my coffee maker, making some for myself. Despite it being scalding hot whenever it's finished, I take a sip anyways-after I add what I like to it to make it to my standards(If you use anything in your coffee of course. If you like just plain black coffee, that's alright too!). It burns going down, but I ignore the sensation, instead letting out a soft content sigh when the taste of the coffee kicks in.

With my cup in hand, I walk over to my desk again, settling into the chair behind it. With the coffee, I can focus a bit better, allowing me to continue my paperwork. When a knock comes on my office door once again, I think nothing of it, simply smiling.

'Mimzy must have forgotten something,' Straightening the papers, I keep a formal posture. "Come in!" The door opens up, and footsteps -heavier than Mimzy's, I note to myself- take one or two steps into my office.

"Smiling for me, doll?~" A familiar male's voice calls, causing me to tense and clench my teeth. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I look over at the man. One of my co-workers, Vincent, is leaning against my doorframe, staring intently at me with a smug smile.

'Reminder to self...Heavily disinfect the doorframe later.' With that thought being listed in my mind, my smile is more forced. However, I keep my display of professional reactions up. "What do you need, Vincent?" It's a clear fact that I don't like the male, but he doesn't seem to notice -if he does, he just doesn't care.

It's not that I hate the man, I just don't like him...at all. Alright, maybe I do hate him a bit...a lot actually. He's not a bad-looking man, but I don't really care for that sort of thing. What stops me from liking him at all, is his sleazy personality and his mistreatment of women. Additionally, the man probably has millions of stds from how many relationships he holds at the same time.

Vincent merely chuckles, looking around my office as if he could judge my style. After a few moments, both my patience and his interest falter steadily. While I grow more irritated at the man's mere presence, he grows bored of looking around my office. Eventually, his gaze settles back onto me, and the small once-over he gives me almost causes me to physically recoil in discomfort, annoyance, and disgust. Vincent takes an arm out from behind his back, and I see a glimpse of something red.

'Most likely more flowers...' I huff quietly under my breath, annoyed. Vincent just can't seem to take the hint that I'm not into him. He's slept with nearly every female in the office, yet he can't leave the one person with zero interest in him, alone? I give the man a small once-over, inadvertently feeding his already bloated ego.

Vincent has slightly tanned skin, seemingly from being outside too long. He has an okay build, maybe a bit of muscle, but mostly an average build. Slicked back and gelled black hair sits atop his head, the bangs slicked back with so much gell it looks greasy. Vincent's eyes are both emerald green, one of his features that he can't seem to stop bringing attention to. He's an inch taller than me, standing at 6'5 ft (196 cm) tall, whereas I stand at 6'4 ft (193 cm) tall. While he may be a good-looking man to some, he's an egotistical person on the inside.

'Why, if Father ever met him-' The mere thought nearly causes me to chuckle. 'I could definitely guarantee that Vicent's ego would be knocked down quite a few notches.' Another knock on my doorframe brings me away from my thoughts.

When my attention is back on him, Vincent smiles, walking into my office with little care. I look over to my clock, desperate for an opening to get him out. Sadly, Lady Luck wasn't on my side for this, leaving me with six minutes until my break is over. Red fills my vision when I turn back to Vincent, startling me slightly.

"Wh-what-[?]" A few rose petals end up in my mouth, causing me to sputter and nearly drop my coffee. Sadly, my coffee probably has petals in it now...

"For th' pretty lil' doll,~" Vincent tries to add a more southern drawl to his voice, a clear attempt to appease me. Setting down my -petal filled- coffee, I take to flowers so he can't shove them further into my face. "Have you come to your senses yet?~" Vincent leans against my desk, a coy smile settled onto his face.

Clenching my fists around the rose petals, I can feel the thorns digging into my palms. "For the last time, I'm not going on a date, or sleeping with you." The statement causes Vincent to frown, glaring at me as I glare back with equal -if not stronger- hatred.

"Yn, Doll... A woman's place isn't in a position like yours, you should be-"

"A position like mine?" I snarl, my smile tightening into an angry grin as I cut him off. Vincent's glare drops, faltering slightly, before straightening itself again. Thankfully, he stops talking, realizing what he just dug into. I place the roses on my desk, ignoring the red droplets of blood and the thorns left in my hands, and I stand up. "I'll have you know, I worked hard to get to where I am today."

Placing my hands on my desk and leaning a bit of my body weight onto them, my eyes narrow at the man. "So yes, I may be a female, but I had to work twice as hard as you and other men do, simply to get to half of your position. So, Vincent," I spit his name out, venom dripping into and off of the words. "Would you like to finish that sentence, that you so dearly have started, in my office?" A daring edge comes into my tone, but I stare directly into his eyes, daring and challenging him to try.

"..." My smile widens, the edge still in it.

"Now. I must ask you to leave. I have to go on air once again." An underlying threat is clear in the sickly sweet tone I use, but he doesn't point it out.

Scoffing, Vincent leaves. I watch him leave until he's finally out. Only then, do I sit down, throwing the roses into the trash beside my desk. When I look back at my door, I grumble.

"Left the damn door open..." Standing, I walk over to it, catching sight of Vincent flirting with the secretary. I feel pity for the woman, watching her lovestruck expression as she looks at the player. Closing my door, I roll my eyes and go back to my desk, straightening my papers.

"What an annoying prick of a Playboy..."