The harsh buzzing of the low profile alarm clock on the side of the bed sounded more like a fly’s hum in Murina’s ear. Used to burning the candle at both ends, the endlessly busy agent was constantly pulling long nights, squeezing every usable minute out of her day. It was how she stayed on top, it was what motivated her. Sleeping was her least favorite thing to do because if she was sleeping she wasn’t working. But last night, as her head hit the pillow on her luxurious queen sized mattress with the Egyptian cotton sheets and impossibly soft comforter in her quiet pristine upscale loft, it was all she wished for.

Murina was tough. Though she was constantly on the go, she also knew patience and the value of biding her time. Through her years being an agent, every new client was an experience which built upon the previous. She reveled in the challenges that working in the fast passed, cutthroat, profitable field of representing top talent in the professional sports arena brought. It was exactly where she wanted to be, and she shied away from no test of her abilities.

But last night…

It was 2am by the time she left her office, having to spend extra hours on the phone cleaning up the mess made yesterday. More money pulled from her own pocket, more favors owed. It couldn’t have gone worse unless they were kicked out or arrested. Alphonse Norwick IV’s arrival had been trying from the moment he set foot in Boston, barely making it off the plane before letting his hash opinions and rude behavior shine. The day dragged, with one disaster after another. He fought against her at every turn and every breath was an obscenity or insult. Murina was not unaccustomed to tough clients. It was not uncommon for many young athletes to come from poor upbringings and bad situations. But there was always one uniting fact that reeled everything in: The FBA. Wanting to do what it took to be the best and get a coveted spot on a team. Even the toughest cases fell in line when Murina laid down the law. She wasn’t sure that was going to be the case with Alphonse.

The drone of the alarm clock harmonized with a sudden ringing, forcing her to involuntarily cover her head with her comforter. Restless as her slumber was, her body did not want to relinquish sleep yet. But as the rings and buzzing continued, her mind couldn’t stay still for long. A sudden flash of a giant mohawked monster laughing startled her awake, the full force of her alarm clock and ringing phone on her bedside stand piercing her ears. She groaned as her palm brushed back the tousled lock of fur obscuring her eyes and then reached over to blindly fumble for the clock or the phone, effectively sending both clattering to her hardwood floors with her glasses for her effort. The sudden silence made her sigh in relief, until the phone rang again.

“Fuck!” The comforter flew off her, showing she had barely removed her day’s clothing before she crawled into bed, having not bothered to initiate her end of the day routine which usually resulted in her in pajamas instead of half a pantsuit. Still blinded by sleep, hair and lack of glasses, she slid to the floor, following the persistent ringing and bright display which she could barely make out as saying “Harris”.

“H-hello?” she cleared her throat, finding it both dry and sore.

“Murina? Where the fuck have you been? I’v been calling you all morning! I was starting to wonder if something had happened to you,” Harris seemed to shout through the phone, though it was only Murina’s persistent headache that made it seem that way. Her paws felt around the floor for her glasses as she formulated a response to defuse Harris’s worried tone.

“Harris! I was sleeping! You woke me up, you jerk,” she chimed, as she shoved her glasses onto her nose, shuffling awkwardly to scoop up the clock which showed the time as a good two hours past her alarm’s initial call. She silently mouthed the word Fuck!, her expression scrunching in fleeting anger, though her voice remained pleasantly even, “You sound worried, Harris. What’s up?”

“What’s up? I didn’t hear from you yesterday or today!”

“Oh?” she feigned innocence as she stumbled to her feet, rushing to the bathroom to discard the remainder of her clothing. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not if you’re dead in a ditch.”

“Harris!” Murina squeaked, genuinely finding the remark uncalled for. “We agreed that if I felt I couldn’t handle things, I would call you. Well, I handled them.”

“And?”

“And…” she had to pause a moment, recalling through the awfulness of the day to remember the bit of good news sandwiched between the headaches. “I signed him!”

“And, that’s a good thing?”

“Yes, Harris,” her tone was shifting into annoyance as she rifled through her closet, a row of near identical purple pantsuits pressed and hung waiting for her. “It’s a good thing. After a little resistance,” she lied, “He assured me he’s ready to play ball.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“I told you, you worry too much.” She wedged the phone between her shoulder and ear as she alternates between dressing and rifling through the papers she left on her desk, giving a bit of a hop and a smile seeing Alphonse’s poorly written signature on the documents.

“I worry enough. Did you forget you’re supposed to meet with legal is today?”

“No I didn’t forget! …but I’m going to have to push it back to tomorrow. I got some calls to make and I need to meet with Mr. Norwick again.” The sigh over the phone put a sour look on Murina’s face.

“It’s FINE, Harris!” she snapped, “Everything is fine!”

“Fine.”

As insufferable Harris’s skepticism was, she wanted desperately for him to get on board with this decision. It was only through his help and guidance that she was able to start this agency, leaning heavily on his experience and skills the first few years. Since then, she has stood well on her own, but has always welcomed her colleague’s advice and input. He admired her for her instincts and tenacity. So, to have him be such a vocal opponent to this prospect was a little more disheartening than she anticipated. Failure was not an option, certainly not after Alphonse signed the papers. Had he took the ticket and left, it would have been out of her control, a reasonable way to wash her hands of the whole thing while still be able to boast that she gave it her best shot. But he called her bluff, the wheels were in motion and there was no backing out now.

A small amount of silence fluttered between them, daring both of them to press the matter further, but Murina opted to change the subject.

“I haven’t eaten yet. You available for brunch?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be at the office in twenty.” She hung up, tossing the phone on the bed with a colossal sigh. She buttoned up the odds and ends of her clothing now that both hands were free. She lingered in the mirror, double checking that it was not obvious she had just rolled out of bed. Looking at herself in her tired eyes, she gave herself an intimate pep talk, assuring herself, once again, that she was doing fine. That everything was going to work out.

You sure ‘bout that, luv?

A terrible chill visibly shook Murina, the crass cockney drawl of the big brown rat having crept into her imagination, toppling her enthusiasm. Her face clenched as though smelling that foul beer breath again. She turned away from her mirror, scooping up her phone, shuffling her papers and swallowing a clutch of aspirins before heading out the door. It was evident that before everything was said and done someone was going to have to break. She was going to make damn sure it wasn’t her.