She slammed a packet of pasta onto a shelf, the arch of her back postured gracefully and she gave a tired sigh, “could it?..” she thought aloud; remembering her question from earlier that day. ‘Could it get much worse?’ but of course it could, it did. “All in a days stress and toil…”, a certain anxiety rising inside the pit of her stomach, as well as becoming increasingly fed up, in an anticipant prediction of something else. And her more and more aggressive means of stacking was making it all too plain to see…
Once she finished Pasta, she moved onto mixed vegetables.

“Alaena!..”, the face of Minerva had appeared around the isle, she was a very tall Punk girl, a few years older then Alaena, she had short, but very bright red hair which came to just halfway down her neck, and today as a working day, she wore it down instead of in a spiked Mohawk… her expression made miss Preston anxious. “The boss wants to see you.” she stated, a clearly distressed look on her face “something involving Fred, Grace and Tina.” Alaena turned, an expression of insecurity wiped across her face. She placed the Can she was holding, in a daze, then turned to Minerva, whom began to lead her to Mr. Jarrell’ office. Minerva lead her to the end of the isles and into the Warehouse, then up some stares into a small office area, they weaved their way wound busy employees, an approached a monogrammed door, ‘James Jarrell - Head of Administration’. They stopped.
“Good luck” Minerva remarked as she tapped Alaena on the shoulder, she so hoped things would go well, but when a known trouble maker, namely; Grace is related to the boss, so it’s problematic to give or receive any comforting support. Minerva walked away and back to work, leaving Alaena alone outside the door.
She hovered for a moment; staring at the skirting board for a minute. Then she knocked, and proceeded through, trying to enter with as much ignorance and dignity together, which was never easy to pull off… “Sir?” she asked… the boss was directly opposite her, and like a stereotypical ‘mastermind’ villain, had her back to her, and swivelled round, probably to try quite deliberately for a dramatic effect. Alaena beheld an obnoxious expression from him briefly, briefly because he then realized he was doing so, or at least Alaena thought that was the case. “Do you have a problem communicating with your colleagues?!” he retorted. Alaena was halfway saying “well”, in an attempt to find an explanation for something she knew little about, especially when it was they who had the problem, asking bizarre questions that no one would give a straight answer to, and yet also trying not to anger Mr. Jarrell since he was kin to the ‘problem’, when he snapped “I’ve had at least three employees complain directly to me…”
“about what?” Alaena replied, trying to look and sound as confused as possible, even though deep down inside she knew that an ‘Office Bully’ was going to get away with murder. “About your unsociable behaviour, for example; upon asking a simple question, you ignore them, blank them out. Alaena’ mouth dropped, “you would too if you knew what they were asking”, she defended.
“That is enough!” he snapped again, “Now you can either choose to cooperate with your colleagues, answer all there questions, and I suggest you do it honestly, or you can get out. We do not want the likes of you at this establishment!”… ‘establishment’ she thought, ‘its not exactly Buckingham palace is it’, she thought; taking off her overalls, and folding them hastily, exposing her casual clothes; she wore a black lace corset with leather straps and steel buckles, underneath was a black T-shirt, an under that, her calling card fishnet, long-sleeved top, and a short black skirt, coming to just above her knees, of which she wore a pair of deep purple tights, and her knee-high ‘Biker‘ styled boots. She threw her overalls into ‘Sirs’ arms and walked out of the office…

Just as she came out of the nearest exit, she beheld the sight of the three in question; Fred, Grace and Tina, all skiving off smoking, and when they saw Alaena, hysterics seemed to befoul any ability for civil behaviour. Alaena wilted her head, and simply walked off briskly, jobless, but also without three specific monkeys on her shoulder…

On the way home, she writes a quick note down, in a little pad that she keeps tucked into a little pocket she cut out in her left boot, as she wrote, she glanced up briefly to a man standing just outside the supermarket entrance. She then pushes her notepad back into the pocket and continues her brisk walk home…