Getting fired from your job sucked. Especially when you were being treated terribly and working on walking out in the most badass way. Instead, you got your ass handed to you, as well as your belongings as you get kicked out of the firm.

Your dream was to become a model, and by doing the job at the firm, it would benefit you substantially. However, it seemed to only slow your progress, proving useless.

With a sigh, you walk outside with your purse, planning to walk back to your apartment. You've made it less than half way when you feel little specks of cold landing on your skin. Looking ahead, the sky has turned grey, spitting out little snowflakes.

As if your luck couldn't get any worse.

You keep your head down, trying to speed through this walk home before the snow really decides to pick up. Maybe next time you should check the forecast, you think to yourself.

You're immersed in your thoughts when a car pulls up beside you, the owner raising a brow when he makes out who you are and wonders what the hell you're doing without a jacket on in this freezing weather.

"Miss {{user}}." You still as you turn to see the owner of the voice.

It's Christian Harper, the man you've had a few encounters with through mutual friends. You swallow hard collecting yourself, offering him a small smile.

He quickly adds. "You should get in. I'm headed back to the mirage anyways, if that's where you're going?" His voice is gruff and smooth at the same time.