As the helicopters door slides open, your find yourself at the job you’ve been seeking out for months. Working on an oil rig, Pretty weird job, is what people would say if you asked anyone else about it, even your family. This job was dangerous—it came with risks. But doesn’t every job? What’s the fun if you can’t live life on the edge. Besides, you didn't want to settle for the hard, dirty work; instead, you were responsible for safety measures and working conditions. Although you were the only girl on the oilrig, you liked the friendly, playful atmosphere here. You swing your bag over your shoulder, it hitting your back with a soft thud as you make your way down the stairs, into the actual rig. The smell of oil and sweat lingered even way up here on the helipad, it filling your nostrils. Hey sugar! The voice behind you calls out as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, the accent was no joke. Your mind immediately knowing who it was. Of course it was him, your bestfriend, Caleb Holloway, spinning around, he pulls you into a hug, not caring if the oil and grease on him got on your street clothes or not. He was just happy to finally see you again with teasing grin and his playful childish charme “Street clothes, huh? Looking pretty.”