I stomp over to her, my heels clacking loudly against the hardwood floor. With a terrified squeak, Karla quickly darts back into the kitchen, trying to hide from my wrath.

Oh no you don't. You don't get away that easily.

I push open the swing door to the kitchen and survey the seemingly empty kitchen with slitted eyes. I probably look like a murderer. Well, I guess I probably don't look too far off. I creep in, my heels clacking with each step, alerting a certain someone of her approaching death.

My narrowed eyes dart around the still room, before landing on the pantry door, that still lies slightly ajar. Releasing a silent chuckle at her naivety, I draw closer to her hiding spot.

With lightning speed, I reach out and yank open the tall door of the pantry, eliciting a surprised squeak from Karla. Gripping her wrist firmly in my slender hand, I drag her over to the center island and seat her on one of the stools before she has the chance to run away. Again.

She fiddles nervously with her hands in her lap, drawing a smug smirk across my lips. Seeing Karla nervous is rare in itself. A normally loud and outgoing person, seeing her quiet is not common. Unless she knows she's in trouble.

I'm about to go off at her when a sudden buzz in my hand makes me pause as I open my mouth. We both look at my phone, Karla in relief and me in annoyance. Stupid person, interrupting me when I'm trying to teach Karla a les-

Whoops. It's my boss. My bad. Forgot about work.

"We will be finishing this conversation later," I say, warning in my tone as I point two fingers at my eyes then at her, like one would do to their nemesis.

Karla practically falls off her chair in relief. Good, I hope she breaks something. I'm just so mad right now, she made me miss work, knowing I had work the next day. She's knows my boss is a temperamental prick, so why get me in trouble purposely.

Bitch.

Skulking off to my room, I prepare for work. I take a shower in record time, washing away the remnants of last night's activities. I dress in a pair of tight, black slacks; a flowy, white blouse and my white stiletto pumps.

After applying a tiny bit of makeup, I book it, grabbing my phone and handbag on my way out. Riding the elevator, I double check to make sure that I have my camera bag in my handbag. Can't go anywhere without my baby. A Nikon Coolpix S6500.

I have two. My everyday one, that's easier for carrying around and snapping quick shot's. And my professional one, that's better for photo shoots or better results. A Nikon d9000. I can't go anywhere with out either or.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for a hectic day ahead.

~•~•~

Charlie's POV:

I puff out my cheeks, letting out an exhausted huff of air. I twirl my chair, facing my chair towards the large window behind my desk and think about the strange morning I had.

Even though I don't remember much from last night, even after going a little over board on the drinks, I can't get that Angel's face out my head. She was gorgeous, but when I woke up this morning, she was gone. Well, actually she was still leaving, I caught her just as the doors snapped shut. Her hazel green eyes haunting my day. She looked so lost and confused as she stared at me with those wide eyes. It's as if she remembers nothing that happened last night.

She couldn't have drunk that much last night, could she?

I heave a sigh, running a hand through my already messy hair and stand. I am just about to leave my office to go get lunch, when the doors fly open with a bang.

"Charrrrliiie," an annoying voice cats out, "Wanna go to Candy Mountain?"

I just groan and face palm, wanting my annoying little brother to disappear. Ever since he watched a stupid cartoon of unicorns and found out that one shared my name, he has not stopped saying that.

"No, Jem, no," I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head.

"Bu-"

"Just no," I whisper, closing my eyes and blocking out James's teasing smile.

"Oh come on," he grins, folding his arms across his chest as he makes himself comfortable in my chair, "You know you secretly love it."

My chair.

"Get out of my chair," I glare at him, stalking towards my office door.

"Why? It's not like you're using it," he smirks, but moves anyway.
"Why are you here anyway," I ask, deciding to ignore his tease, "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"School ended, like an hour ago," he shrugs, following me down the corridor to the elevator.

School ended?

"It has?" I frown, glancing at the time on my watch.

15:45.

Oh. Where did the time go.

I had been so focused on that girl, that I didn't notice the time go by. I step into the elevator, James hot on my heels and push the button for the ground floor.

James turns to admire his reflection in the mirror behind him. I stare him in amusement, watching him mess with his hair and clothes. He's incredibly vain.

For a blood related sibling, he looks almost nothing like me. With his white blonde hair and blue eyes, he looks like an avenging angel, while I look like a fallen angel. We share our light tans and high cheek bones, not much else. Maybe our noses and lips and I guess our heights are close, seeing as he is seventeen and I am twenty four. Okay, twenty five in a few weeks.

My attention to my thoughts is broken when the doors ding open and we step out. Everyone stops, stares at us and nod in respect, a few muttering 'sir' or 'Mr Kendall'.

I nod back in acknowledgement and head towards the front doors. It's not unusual for people to stop and stare, wherever we go. Especially at me. People worship the ground I walk on, though it gets a bit disturbing at times when I just want to go unnoticed.

Which is practically impossible, outside of my home.

Me and James are constantly grabbing attention, known as the Kendall Brothers, we can't go anywhere without handing out an autograph or two. Ladies love us. Which can get creepy pretty fast when cougars try to grab your junk. I'm not lying, it has happened on a few occasions.

Which is why it's particularly odd that the gorgeous blonde from last night, practically bolted out of my apartment. Many woman would kill to be in her position. It's not like I go out often to a club and bring back a girl. Of course I do on the few occasions I do feel like releasing stress, if you know what I mean.

A phone call interrupts my train of thought, just as I am sliding into the back of my sleek limo. Bringing the blaring iPhone into view, I recognize my assistant's number flashing across the screen.

"Donna," I reply once I've clicked the green button.

"Hello Mr Kendall, I have a request from an agency about a photo shoot. I was wondering if you would accept," a chirpy voice answers.

"Sure. When do they want to do it?" I've already featured in many magazines, why not one more?

"Perfect. They said whenever you are free," Donnita replies, the dull sound of fingers on keys reaching my ears.

"Saturday."

~•~•~

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