"Do what you love to do and give it your very best. Whether it's business or baseball, or the theater, or any field. If you don't love what you're doing and you can't give it your best, get out of it. Life is too short. You'll be an old man before you know it."-Al Lopez

"Kyle Crawford! This was your last warning! You're fired!"

Kyle woke up with a start, his blue eyes bloodshot and head pounding from the hangover he was nursing. He had resorted to alcohol last night in anger after his roommates had managed to get them an eviction notice from the pathetic apartment they called home. He had never been able to handle alcohol well.

He had been the only earning one out of the four of them since a year and the expenses he had set out for food and basic necessities had been mysteriously dwindling. At twenty-three years of age, he was much younger than the other three and he did not want to incur their wrath by confronting them, because they beat him up quite often. They had been spending their time and his hard earned money on drugs and booze, and he was finding it hard to support them. They pushed him around, physically abusing him whenever they wanted to. This had been going on since the last four years. The only reason he was tolerating them was because he did not want to end up on the streets. He was somewhat used to this by now.

He had always wanted to be a journalist, but his father had forced him to become an engineer. About four years ago, he had dropped out of college, severing ties with his father and ending up living with these three older men in their apartment. Not having a degree, he took a job with a popular news channel, Channel5 News as a freelance photographer and wrote columns for their weekly magazine.

His boss, Mr Macadandang was a stocky middle aged man whose temper was shorter than his height. He loved to remind him about fact that he did not have a degree, but his freelance job was paying for a degree. A degree in Journalism at NYU.

A fog cleared in his mind a little as he took in his boss' words. He was about to lose his only job.

Shít.

"Mr Mac, I can explain!" He yelled, quickly pulling himself to his feet, his vision darkening with the sudden rush of blood as he stumbled towards the office, tripping over the piles of paper on the floor around him. Blood rushed to his cheeks as the others stopped their work to look at the commotion he was causing.

"I want nothing to do with you! You were sleeping on the job, again! Take your severance pay on the way out," yelled Mr Mac, his round face contorting with anger. He tried to close the door of his office, but Kyle put a foot in, preventing it.

"Mr Mac, it's just the second time! I swear this won't happen again!" Kyle said, helping himself inside the office. "I get more stories than the others! I've even worked overtime without extra pay! You can't do this to me!"

"Second time? What, you want me to fire you the third time you sleep at the job? Or the fourth? Is this a joke to you?" Mr Mac's pale face was now bright blotchy pink and his eyes were bulging. He looked like he was about to have a stroke. "Let me remind you that I hired you despite not having a degree, so don't give me that sh!t about overtime."

Kyle looked down at the cream tiled floor, his hand picking at a loose thread on his shirt, trying to give him time to cool himself down before he responded further. He desperately needed to keep this job if he had to survive.

"Please Mr Mac, let me stay. I'll do anything!" He said, clasping his hands in front of himself, when Mr Mac's face had finally started to turn pale again.

Mr Mac looked at him tiredly. "Alright, stop with the dramatics and the puppy eyes." He rubbed his hand against his eyes. "J-C Co. Is holding a press conference. Secure an interview with Y James and the job is yours again."

**

Kyle looked at the picture of Y James he had while lying in bed later that night.

It was a newspaper cutout of her in big black shades, a red dress and her characteristic red lipped frown. He had it framed and kept it by his bed.

He had a big crush on the woman, and who wouldn't? She was everything he wanted to be. Just three years older than him, she had successfully raised an empire all on on her own. And she was absolutely gorgeous.

She was perfect.

He put the picture on his chest, closing his eyes. His boss had just asked him to get an interview with his dream woman if he had to keep his job. Excitement rushed through his body as he thought about getting to talk to her. He was ready to take that interview at any cost. But the question was, how?

The smell of weed wafted into his nose from under the door.
His idiotic roommates were lying in the hall, stoned out of their wits. As usual, they pushed him around, expecting him to do something to save them from eviction. If he got the interview, he might be able to afford a better apartment away from them. For the first time, he was glad about the eviction notice. He finally saw some hope for himself.

**

"Hey!" Yelled the guard as Kyle raced past security, flashing his identity card and his big, blue eyes, in an attempt to follow Y. James' PR Team. It was his only chance to hope against hope and snag an interview with her.

His sneakers squeaked on the slippery hallway as he pushed past the other people of the team, trying to reach the head, a woman in a sharp gray suit and tall black heels talking to one of the security officers.

He almost ran right into her, stopping himself just in front of her and interrupting her discussion.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He said, bending over slightly, panting from the exertion. "May I please speak to you?"

She was a beautiful woman in her late twenties, with platinum blonde hair and sharp green eyes. She looked like a pleasant woman, except for her eyes, which ran over his body like a predator looked at her prey, causing him to break into a nervous sweat. Her scrutiny made him feel like an insect under a microscope.

Her eyes softened after a while and a slight smile played on her lips.

"How may I help you?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes twinkling.

"Listen, I-" he began, then shook his head, "I really need to, um," he stopped. He was being an idiot. "I'm sorry, my name is Kyle Crawford," he said, extending his hand. "May I please talk to you in private?" He looked uneasily at the wide eyed stares the rest of the team was giving him.

She looked at him again, now with a twinkle in her eye and a smirk playing on her plump pink lips and took his hand in a strong, confident handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Crawford. I'm Jenna Warne." She said, nodding her head at the others and motioning for them to leave with a sharp glance.

The team quickly dispersed.

"I'm a journalism student at NYU," he said, taking her hand in both his hands. "I also work with Channel5 news as a freelance. My boss has threatened to fire me, but I desperately need to keep the job," he rambled, hoping she hadn't noticed the sweatiness of his palms, his ears growing red. "The only way I can save it is by getting an interview with Miss James. Please! I really, truly, desperately need to keep this job if I want to continue my degree." He pleaded.

She looked at him silently for a while, her gaze washing over his face, letting her hand stay in his. He found himself blushing again, so he dropped both her hand and her gaze.

"What's there in it for me?" She asked after a while, moving a step closer to him, making him move backwards. "I'll have to pull a lot of strings to make it happen, but I need to know it's worth it." Kyle walked another step backwards as she was closing the distance, hitting the wall. "How badly do you need the interview?" Her eyes roamed his face as she put one of her arms beside on the wall beside him, her eyes level with his.

"I'll do anything. Please just get me an interview with her." He pleaded in a small voice, his eyes shifting between both her eyes.

"Anything?" She asked, challenging him to take back his words, her gaze hardening a little.

He hesitated for a few seconds, looking away from her eyes, and thought about the worst that she could ask him to do. Even the prospect of spending a night didn't sound so bad to him if she asked him. She was a beautiful woman after all.

"Anything," he replied, more firmly, meeting her eyes again.

"Very well then, Mr Crawford. Please write your phone number here. I will see what I can do." She gave him a card on which he wrote his number.

"Thank you so much, Miss Warne." He said happily, extending his hand in another handshake. A shiver of excitement went down his spine as she gently pushed on the wall again, bending her face towards his ear, her warm, sweet breath on his cheek.

"I will be taking you at your word, Mr Crawford." Her spiced perfume wafted into his senses and she drew back, winking at him before walking away.
**

Kyle sat in the crowded hall, waiting to see Y. James at the podium. He had given Jenna his name and number, but he didn't know if she would actually talk to Yvonne James about him.

She was going to ask him for a favor in return. Her behavior seemed to imply that it would be a sexual one, but despite her teasing, he had a feeling there was more to it. As of now, he was just hoping she'd call him to tell him he got the interview.

Jenna exuded power and he felt so insecure, yet excited around her. He could only imagine how he would feel when he met Yvonne.

His phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts.

It was Greg, one of his roommates.

"Hey, jerk! Where did you put the money again?" Asked Greg as soon as he took the call.

"I didn't hide it, Greg. We ran out of it, remember?" Kyle sighed. "I think you guys should find jobs now that I've lost mine. Maybe save up for a new apartment for yourselves?"

"I decide what we do with the money, not you. You should be glad I'm not very angry at you for losing your job. You better be working at getting a new one." Kyle rolled his eyes at his words. "We're running out of booze here. Pick up a pack or two on the way back? I'm sure you have a few bucks on you right now."

"We have an eviction notice, man. We don't have money for beer and weed and whatever else you guys are doing. I don't even have any money on me right now. Go buy your own beer," said Kyle, angrily.

"Don't use that tone on me, Kyle. I'm warning you, I will not take that attitude in my house-"

Kyle cut the call. He was done with this sh!t. He did not know where he had got the confidence to do this, but he was glad he did. He knew there would be consequences, but he would face them later. What was the worst Greg would do? A punch to his nose? It had already happened too many times before and right now he was too excited to be thinking about anything else.

A/N: Hi guys! Do you guys like Kyle? Let me know in the comments! Please don't forget to vote! Thanks for reading :)