( gif by hazzawckd <3 )

— mentions of attempted assault, but does not go any further..

"Karl Lagerfeld, pleasure to meet you." A hand extended out to me from a short man in a rich gray suit with a black tie. He smiled at me from a professional standpoint, his black sunglasses staying put on his face. He looked to be in his seventies, a mature man. A businessman.

"Hi, (Y/N) (L/N)." I shook his hand softly, smiling.

"Will you come along with me please." I, of course, agree and follow after him while tucking a piece of my hair behind my hair and clutching my portfolio as we go up the backway of the warehouse and up the elevator with a comfortable setting. As we walked across the marble floor, we finally arrived at his actual office. He held the door for me as I walked in, behind the tall glass doors stood a row of large windows that overlooked the city in the background. His black modern desk in the middle accompanied by a comfy leather chair. The room was pearly white. Mannequins were all in a row with different designs from the 90's theme to modern today's attire.

"Please have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?" He asked politely, my mind was still distracted by how beautiful his office was.

"N-no! I am okay, thank you." I smiled at the question as he walked over to the stainless steel fridge at the far end. It was near a marble countertop and a black leather couch.

I took a seat in front of his desk, less intimidated now. I sat my portfolio on my lap, fingers tapping at the soft plastic that protected the shell. My eyes peered around the room, ankles crossed. He had many designs and awards scattered around his wall, most being one of the highest awards you could receive in the industry to little awards children make for their parents. Off to the side of the wall were photos of models, some taken at the top of mountains, some taken in the inner city, some were models who passed away a while ago and others were of clothes that he himself designed.

Karl's hand suddenly appears in front of my face to break me from my trance as he silently requested for my portfolio. He had three different rings on his fingers, all decorated in diamonds. I smiled softly, handing off the plastic to him before in return, he gave me a glass of water anyway. He grips it. Walking around to the front of the desk before leaning against it as he opened it up and began to examine it.

I watched as his eyes studied each and every one of my designs, taking in every detail as I nervously watched. I felt like having the floor swallow me up whole than to sit in the quiet room as he studied my portfoilo. I forced myself to look anywhere but him, luckily the giant four windows behind him had a scenery out of a movie and I found myself window shopping from up above. "This is incredible." He says in the midsts of my thoughts, almost catching me off guard as I rapidly blinked.

We make eye contact as he shuffles his way around his desk to finally sit down. "I don't say this often to new interns, it gets their ego too high and they lose track of what they are here for. Learning and going far in the world, but this.." He shakes his head in almost disbelief. "This is really amazing." He praises which makes my heart race in an incredible way.

"Really? Holy shit. Sorry–" I say, covering my mouth in disbelief as he laughs a bit before leaning forward.

"Yes, (Y/N), really. You have a good eye when it comes to capturing what goes good with what. It is like you are telling a story within your work, your designs are captivating, you have this style that many try to capture throughout their years and I see you slowly capturing it little by little." He shoots off multiple praises that could leave a grown man crying before

"This is the best news I have gotten in such a long time, I started this all for my friend who passed away. She wanted to be the designer, not me, but I made a promise to her that I would continue on her legacy so I started researching a lot about a lot of the world of fashion." I felt comfortable opening up more, seeming he likes it.

"I bet she would be proud of you." He nods, flipping to the last page that held the most valuable part of my work. "I'm glad you have a real passion and a reason to keep going, most would've given up when things got too hard." He shakes his head while skimming my work once more. "I like this design you have here. The death concept goes a long way when you know what you are looking for."

"Thank you, I liked the style and the concept behind the idea of death and how beautiful it can be. In clothes an–"

"Spider-Punk." He then says, catching me off guard.

I furrowed my brows, did I hear my correctly? "Sorry?" I questioned.

He turned over my portfolio and gently slipped out my little notebook I kept inside of it for new ideas to show me the name Spider-Punk written at the top with three little straight lines underneath it. I had no recollection of writing that, but it piqued Karl's interest so I played along. "You like the band?"

"Oh yeah, I completely forgot about that." I mumbled out of confusion. "I saw them in concert and the lead singer had a very unique sense of style. It made me definitely interested in coming up with a design. Just for the fun of it." I lie through my teeth as I try to wrap my head around how that name appeared on the top of my notebook.

He nods with curiosity in his eyes, but it just left me confused. I arched my brow at him when he goes into deep thought before he opens up a drawer and shuffles through some papers before pulling out an envelope that is labeled 'intern onboarding' and my eyes go even wider. "How old are you again?"

I swallow the lump that forms in the back of my throat as I eye the envelope. "I am nineteen."

He nods to himself again as he places the envelope on top of my portfolio before sitting up straight in his chair with his fingers intertwined together in front of him on his desk. He looked like he was contemplating telling me good news or bad, and I was on the verge of fainting from either one.

"So, Ms. (L/N), do you know what we do here?"

I gave him a strange look, was this a trick question?

"We are in the Lagerfeld fashion agency?" I started to doubt myself now that I answered, almost having to double check to make sure that who I was sitting in front of was the real Karl Laferfeld.

"Correct, and you know what we do here right?"

"You are partnered with many fashion companies, we make the designs, book showings, make pieces from little samples and make the idea of art into clothing." I said very slowly.

"Right, each intern we have specializes in different departments and they either do well or fail. Never in between when it comes to them. We are looking for the new age and old, for the new Fashion show I have coming up. We want two designers to come up with fifty different designs, twenty-five will get picked in the first week. Then, we get a few of my contacts to come down and look over them. If they like them, you'll already be ahead of the rest of your class." He explained thoroughly, seeming like I was supposed to pick up on something. But I must've been too out of it because I wasn't understanding anything he was telling me.

"I'm sorry.. I don't understand."

"I liked your work, I really did. You already got the position before we had the full talk, but seeing that you already have an interest in the department we are shooting for this year's Fashion show; I want you to design pieces for Spider-Punk, as well as some of these dresses and other designs. But for now, focus on their style. Try to go to more of their shows, look them up online, research them, watch interviews. I heard it is hard to keep a promise when they get one, especially the leader, Hobie." He explains, this time in a more clearer understanding for me.

Too caught up in hearing him say I got the position, I nod my head without fully hearing him. "Excuse my lack of understanding for them, but don't they have stylists of their own? I only just recently heard of them, but when I went to their concert they had a huge crowd and there were a lot of managers in the background from what I remembered."

"Spider-Punk made a deal with me awhile ago, they can stay on my boat for free if they wear my loud pieces to their concerts." It now makes sense, it was all for business. "Besides, they don't do well with authority and listening well. We meet every other few months to talk business and then we leave each other alone. My daughter is a huge fan of the band, but I think their music is too loud." He rises, moving in front of the desk again as he crosses his ankles one over the other before he slides his glasses off for the first time since we started the conversation. "I am telling you this because I have a good feeling about you, my gut never lies. Something about you tells me that you are going to do well with this assignment."

I sat silent for a moment, holding the now empty glass of water in my sweat grip with a rotating mind. I wasn't expecting to get offered such an important assignment right away. Maybe running around town for Deja, picking up her coffee and holding her clothes while we came up with ideas; but to be put in a position where I would be making designs for a very well known band wasn't in my To Do List. I told myself I would stay away from the band–or Hobie–as much as I could. New York was huge, if I ran into him it would be because I wanted to find him, but to have

I had late night panic attacks leading up to this opportunity for months. Applying here was my first and only choice to make it in the industry, taking every chance and decision would mean risking it at all. If I didn't make it here, I would have nothing and would have to pack up and force my parents to drive all the way back to get me. The shame.

Deja caught up with me and explained she knew if Karl saw I was interested in Spider-Punk that I would have a better chance at getting accepted. I asked how she knew, she said it was just a leap of faith.

The night was turning dark, very gloomy. It looked like it was going to thunderstorm sooner or later and I had one last stop I needed to get to before the night ended. A waitressing spot that opened up around the corner from the apartment that Monique told me about a week before I came down. Deja said part time jobs are not required but heavily influenced when the two month mark starts. No money, but a good amount of free time for myself and my work. She gave me her schedule and what to expect for the next two months and told me to let whatever job I was going to get, to let them know Deja personally sent me.

So I did. Throwing on my old, red and blue converses with my hood over my head, I unlocked and locked the door behind me before running down the steps and out the front door. I was by no means an athlete when it came to running, occasionally I would go on walks with my mom and to clear my head, but outrunning New York's storm that happened almost immediately had me second guessing if maybe I should've tried out for track. After about a minute of walking, I rounded the corner to a small, classic diner. I looked in the big, glass window and saw that it was already half full on a gloomy, Wednesday night. The help wanted sign still in the window.

I opened the door and the smell of burgers and fries greeted me, the sounds of chatter and soft laughter coming from the booths and table. I walked towards the front and took a seat at the counter, pulling my hood back down as two young women whispered next to me about their high school gossip.

As I saw on the rotating, red, vinyl covered stool, the older woman behind the counter refilling drinks greeted me. "Good evening, darlin'. I'll be with you in just one sec." She whisked herself away while holding a plate of food in one hand and a tray of drinks in the others. The place was half full, but she was obviously alone and was keeping up. Evening crowds were always slower during the weekdays, and with the storm coming in most were skipping their usual nightly spot to eat.

She returns while taking the rag out of her apron before wiping her hands and slides out her pen and notepad before leaning against the counter with a tired look. "Water?" She suggested.

I nod, chuckling lightly. "Yes, please. Seems busy, I can only imagine what it would be like on a busy night."

"It gets pretty busy, usually I am the only one who works these hours so the tips are good but my feet are killer." She laughs.

I handed her the menu and kept a small smile on my face. "I know right now isn't a good time, but I saw the help wanted sign in your window."

"Seriously?" she said. "When can you start?"

I laughed, looking at my schedule that Deja gave me. "I can start tomorrow around this time? Uh... Deja said that is a good time."

Her eyes light up, going into the back for a few moments until she returns with the necessary paperwork and an apron. "Deja has given back to our community, she is the reason we are able to stay open. Whoever she sends our way, I know they must be good." She extends her arm out to shake. "My name is Maggie Lee, by the way."

I grinned at her. "My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Thank you so much!"

"No, thank you. My husband Glenn owns the place, but I have the authority to hire anyone and as you can tell I just hired you." I felt like I was in the right place at the right time, pulling out a few dollars she gently pushed my hand back. "Employees eat and drink for free. Bring your paperwork back tomorrow and wear black jeans with non-slick shoes."

I nod, standing up as I finished my water before turning to see the storm was just barely letting up as I tucked the papers inside my jacket before throwing my hood over my head and walking out the doors.

The city life at night was calm, like the world had stopped spinning for a few seconds as almost no sound was breaking through the barrier. Times Square could be seen just a few blocks down the street, but yet, no light made its way towards where I was heading back home. I could almost be thankful it was, the city lights were never usually my thing up until a day ago; but my mind was still getting used to all the changes I was going to have to adjust to.

As I continued forward and made a turn down an alleyway, I picked up my pace a bit when I suddenly got an uneasy feeling. It was dark, I had my pocket knife shoved in my backpack but I couldn't shake the eerie feeling someone was watching me. With my head down, all it took was for me to take one more step forward before I came face to face with a large chest that was blocking me from the other side of the entrance and back home.

"Hello, pretty thing." His drunken breath catches my nose before I gag, taking a step back.

"Can you move? You are blocking my entrance to get home and I don't like being in the rain for too long." I snap at him, tightening my hold on my jacket so my papers don't slip out and he finds out where I will be working part time.

"That isn't very nice, you can't just go around being a bitch to anyone you want. What if that gets you in trouble?" He took a staggered step forward, hand reaching out to grip onto my arm before I dodged him and moved around him to get away. But I wasn't quick enough, as he turned to grip onto my hair and flush me back against his chest. I let out a screech before his hand covered my mouth to shut me up, the papers falling onto the ground into a puddle before I kicked my feet out to get away.

"Sh, sh, you are too.. Loud..." He slurred out, moving us farther down the alleyway before I bit onto his hand and swung my ankle back into his groin. He toppled forward, gripping in between his legs as he let out a small gurgling noise of pain as I stumbled away.

"God! I told you I hate being out in the rain for too long, fucking pig." I hissed, turning to move but was stopped again once I found myself falling forward as his hand wrapped around my ankle to pull me down. I rolled onto my back, my chin lightly bleeding as it came into contact with the concrete before his face was over top of mine. A sinister face, teeth like a monster and his pupils dilated that the color was almost terrifying to look at.

"You're a real bitch. You know that?" He pushed his weight onto mine before I gathered up some saliva and spit it out while thrashing to get away. He raised his hand, clicking his pocket knife to reveal the sharp edge but like a flash of light, it was completely gone from his grip and so was the weight off my body.

I was frozen, the attack nearly keeping me from moving once his weight was off of me before I snapped my head up to see his face pushed down into the cement as the figure, with its back turned to me, had his boot stepping on his head with a shake of his head. "I thaught' I warned yau what' wauld happen if I caught' yau on this sid' of town?" The thick accent said, pushing his leather boot harder into the other's head as the man whimpered underneath him.

"I forgot! I swear to ya!" His demeanor was gone, whatever act he had while being drunk was quickly changed into a submissive, sober one as he was face down into the ground.

I collected myself and moved to stand, the bottom of my shoes making much more noise than I intended just as the slim bodied figure turned his head and I was eye to eye with a masked man. Spikes were forming a line from the back to his forward as the multitude of colors were showing on his suit. He wore ripped, skinny jeans and a leather jacket with the sleeves torn off. "Yau alright'?" He questioned.

I turned to look behind me before pointing to myself. "No, I almost got hurt. But thank you for your attention to detail that I may not be okay." I didn't intend to come off as rude, but the overall situation was a lot more for my brain to process and with today's day that I had I didn't know what was real or not. Everything was falling into place almost too smoothly.

The figure let out a loud laugh, shooting webs out from his wrists to tie the guy like a show pig on display, his mouth sealed shut with five webs as he turned towards me. "I'll walk yau hom'. Least' I can do." His accent was far too thick to be American or New Yorkan, but I shook my head and took a small step back while my foot crushed the papers beneath me. I didn't even bother to care, the scene I witnessed was far more alarming than a few trees cut down.

"No thank you, I would rather you not know where I live so you don't..." I gestured towards the struggling man who attempted to free himself. "Do whatever the fuck that is." I shook my head and immediately took off down the path and around the corner with a beating heart.

Once I knew I was in an eye shot of the apartment doors and more people were walking along the sidewalks, I peeked around the corner before a gasp left my lips at the scene.

No one was there. Not a tied up man, not a crazy man with spikes on his head. It was empty.

// also,, i want to point out to one of my readers that caught my mistake about the shoe laces. PHEW,, i apologize. i am not at all educated with punk, shoe lace codes or anything of that nature. so i apologize if something is wrong, i am honestly going off what i seen in movies, interviews, clips and stories 😭