Oᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 3. 2024
After a week and two days in the hospital, Alessia is finally released with a wrist-based pulse Ox sensor. It mainly monitors heart-rate at the wrist and gives a warning whenever her BPM (beats per minute) is too high.
Sitting with her legs folded Indian-style on the vent of the roof of Petro's building, she absorbs her surroundings; eyes closed–the chilliness of the night air, the silence of the dark sky. She's trying to soak up as much peace as possible, trying to meditate on the good in her life, rather than the negativity she has been harbouring.
Still, it's hard...
So fucking hard to not think about all the—
Abruptly, she opens her eyes, staring into the distance with a deep breath of fresh air expanding her lungs.
The doctor had prescribed her medication that is similar to that of a patient that suffered from a heart attack and he said, she would be able to recover in a month if she relaxes. Petro isn't pleased, but he would do anything to keep her healthy for the future. Alessia, on the other hand, is oddly relieved for the uncalled for sick leave.
School will be easier without much worry and... No shit, scrap that. "I need a plan..." She exhales lowly. Is there even time to relax after all? Her mind swirls darkly, blending into the shadows of her past and the beeps her sensor begins to make suggests that she come back to the present immediately.
Sighing, she swipes a hand through her hair before resting her cheek in her palm, elbow digging into her thigh as she focuses on a shady cloud in the sky. "I'll soon think of something, so don't you rain on me." At least not right now... The cloud proceeds slowly over her head with the gentle wind.
"M–Miss Alessia..."
She turns at the nervous utter of her name, frowning slightly at the fact that she didn't realize Micheal Frayer was in her presence until he opened his shaky mouth.
"Ms. Alessia," he says again with more confidence when her attention drifts away. She looks at him now, intently, and he speaks, "Mr. Moskal is asking for you. There's something he wants you to do."
With my condition? Her face says as an eyebrow cocks upward. Petro knows the doctor's orders are strict, so what can he possibly want her to do, if not something hectic? She unfolds her legs and rises slowly, going into a satisfying stretch. Then, she follows the man into the elevator. The metal box moves down a floor, sprouting lazy music, and the doors ding, opening.
"Ladies first." She chuckles darkly at the frail, feminine man, who steps out, keeping his thoughts inside.
She trails behind him as he leads her to Petro.
Upon getting closer, she hears voices, two voices. One is obviously her boss' and the other is foreign, yet familiar. Micheal knocks weakly after hesitating. Being used to his years long attendant, Petro hear permits his entrance and they exchange brief words before Alessia is ushered in and Micheal is out.
The girl enters Petro's office with a resting face, consuming her surroundings in one sweep of her eyes. He's behind his desk, welcoming her with a grin and a man stands before him, assessing with a twitch of a smile.
"Alessia, this is Rudolph Manchester. He's a business partner that flew down the other day from England for a banquet. His family has been living here for most of their lives and his son should be attending the banquet with him."
She looks at Rudolph, then at Petro, waiting impatiently for them to get to the point. If this is a bodyguard job, she's going to shut him down so bad...
A prominent British lisp drags her view back to Rudolph who is taking his turn to speak, "I've heard enough abou' you from Pe'ro and I think you are the one I am looking for. You attend the same school as my son, I'm no' sure if you know him, bu' he and I had an agreement. He's the heir to my business and he wants to become a measly cop, so he refused when I asked him to tag along. I guess he was joking when he said if I can find him the lass wi' bleached hair and a pri'eh blue se' of eyes that goes to his school, he'll think abou' eh. However, I am serious."
Alessia flushes unwillingly. Who the fu—
"He seems to like you and I really need him to come to the banquet. Can you please accompany him?"
Petro is surely amused. He doesn't think much of Rudolph's son having a crush on Alessia, because he now trusts that she will stay uninterested.
Her eyes slide to the chuckling man behind his desk and she asks, "Am I getting paid?"
Rudolph pipes in, since Petro isn't the one paying her, "Tha' depends."
She looks back at him. "On what?"
"On if my son enjoys himself."