It's been a long year

Sense you've been gone

I've been alone here

I've grown old

Fall to pieces, I'm falling

Fell to pieces and I'm still falling

-Velvet Revolver

beep beep beep

' Jeremy pulled her over to him and wrapped her in his arms. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, "You're the one person who knows me for who I am and still likes me." Jen gave a gentle laugh. "I love you baby," she whispered back. '

beep beep beep

' Jen laid with her back to Jeremy and made herself more comfortable. This was her favorite way to spend her evenings. Under a blanket on the couch with Jeremy holding her. Just the two of them. She could stay that way forever. '

Beep Beep Beep

' "I can see me spending the rest of my life with you. We can buy a bigger place, you can get your grand piano, and I can get my Beamer." Jeremy said quietly as he played with her hair. Jen laughed again as she looked up. "You already have a Beamer," she said. Jeremy smiled, "Yeah, but I want another one." Jen laid her head back down on his chest and smiled. Life was so perfect. '

BEEP BEEP BEEP !

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I'M UP!" Jen screamed as she pushed herself off the bed. She grabbed the offending alarm clock, heaved it across the room, and gave a content sigh as she heard it smack the wall.

'I feel much better,' she thought to herself as she pulled the rest of the covers off and made her way to the bathroom.
Jen had been having these dreams a lot. 'Well,' she thought, 'they aren't really dreams, they're memories.'

Jen flicked on the bathroom light and looked at her reflection. She looked exactly how she felt, like shit. Her long brown hair, normally wavy and static free, looked like she had just gotten it permed on the most humid day of the year.

Jen took her eyes off her reflection. She didn't care how her hair looked. In fact it had been a long time sense she cared how any of her looked. As long as she looked respectable at work, she didn't bother with worrying if her appearance attracted anyone.

Jen turned on the water for the shower and waited until steam poured out the top before stepping in. She lifted her face to the hot water and smiled. It woke her up, opened her senses, and washed away anything on her that she didn't want. She hoped today, like she did everyday, that along with the dirt and sweat it would wash away any more 'memories' she had left.

It was only 8:30 a.m. in NYC and already Jen was stuck in traffic. There were red lights and bumper-to-bumper traffic in every direction as far as she could see. 'Great,' she thought, 'I won't make it to work till 9:30.'

She was only two blocks away from where she worked. She could walk if she wanted, except for the fact that she was in her car. Getting to work wasn't even the hardest part; getting into the turning lane for the parking garage, finding a parking space and making it to her desk before 9:45 was.
'Maybe if DeVore sent a limo to pick me up I'd make it on time on day,' Jen thought with a smile. She'd have to suggest that to her.

The DeVore's were one of the wealthiest families in NYC. Though not the Trumps or Rockefellers, they had enough money to hold their own. The DeVore Publishing company and Designs by Devore the DeVore's top businesses, both head quartered in New York City.

DeVore Publishing owned four magazines. The top selling was DeVore Brides, the wedding magazine. Then there was Head to Toe, the fitness magazine; Femme National, the women's magazine; and Page 10, the men's sporting magazine. All four magazines had their own following, and on the whole DeVore Publishing was one of the best in the business.
Jen worked for Femme National as Editor-In-Chief. She made sure that everything was perfect, no word left misspelled, no sentence without a period. She loved her job and her magazine, and it was her magazine. She put her sweat and blood into every issue, and she was proud to say that it was #1 women's magazine in the country.

Jen wasn't looking forward to the day ahead of her. Two weeks ago she had fired eight of the old staff, and now DeVore was looking to hire replacements. She needed a new art director, photo director, art and photo designer, designer, photo editor, art a whole new art and photo staff. She wasn't looking forward to interviewing 200 plus people.

Jen pulled into the garage, locked her doors with the click of a button, and ran towards the nearest elevator. Ten minutes later she was at her desk and out of breath. She looked at the clock on her desk and rolled her eyes. 10:00.

"Shit," she said leaning back in her chair.
"Late again Costa? Damn."

Jen looked up to see DeVore leaning up against her doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk across her face.

"Yeah, how does that always happen?" Jen asked trying to look innocent while crossing her own arms.
"We'll just say that the clock is fast," DeVore said with a laugh, "All the clocks in this place."

Jen smiled and nodded her head. She knew it wouldn't matter if she was three hours late, DeVore wouldn't care.

"Anyways, I'm just here to tell you that all the heads of departments have a meeting at 2 o'clock today," DeVore said. Jen smirked and gave a little laugh. DeVore turned around and raised an eyebrow. "It's mandatory," she added with a smirk as she turned and left.

"What?! NICOLE! I have tons of people I have to interview today for YOUR art and photo staff, for YOUR magazine because YOU fired the old staff !" Jen yelled at Devore's retreating back from her desk. Nicole didn't stop walking, she just waved and turned the corner.

'DAMNIT!' Jen thought, ' I am NEVER going to get this shit done!'

***

Yeah man! Well this chapter was shorter in a way. It's kinda a filler chapter, but I needed to explain Jen's life a little to you. I hope you like it. Personally I think it could be much better, but I don't feel like working on it because I want to get to the other chapters.
So anyways, if YOU have any ideas on what should happen, let me know, I always need ideas, and if you have any suggestions on how to make this chapter better let me know. I love reviews. And REMBER, I do not claim to be a GODD writer. Not at all.