!!!!! The devil wears Prada au. Andrews the boss. Neil is the new guy. Except Neil stays at the end
this will not be anything remotely like the actual devil wears prada, of which is one of my favourite movies, as it’s a character-study film rather than a plot-driven one, so things wouldn’t make sense with aftg.
i have a feeling, though, that you just want andrew treating neil like a dick and then promptly getting his ass handed back to him when neil has a makeover. now that’s something I can give to you.
Really, Andrew thought, looking at the slight-shouldered, meek child in front of him. It was insulting, really. He had inherited this publication from a father he’d never known and built it into what it now was, a multimillion-dollar influence, and this was the sort of assistant he was graced with?
He had dark curls, wild in the way that box-dyed hair always was. His eyes were brown but Andrew could see the ring of lenses, so at least he had the gall not to wear glasses: they would completely ruin his face shape. Admittedly, he did have rather high cheekbones and paler lashes that fanned out across his cheeks when he blinked, but that alone couldn’t save whoever this was from the rest of his appearance.
He’d rested a piece of paper on Andrew’s glass desk, standing back to lace his fingers behind his back.
“Yes?” Andrew implored, when the stranger wasn’t forthcoming.
His brow furrowed slightly. “I was recommended to apply here. I recently graduated from Palmetto State, top of my class. Whilst I would’ve preferred to go directly into journalism, it struck me as a good opportunity for some experience -”
“So you’ve never read an issue,” Andrew drawled. He still didn’t know the man’s name.
Thin brows furrowed themselves. “No...”
“And you’ve never been remotely invested in fashion, design or couture.”
“And you clearly have no regard for style,” Andrew added, eyeing his faded jeans and scruffy button-down that was only barely tucked in.
The man huffed. How old was he? “Some would say that style is an individual -”
“That wasn’t a question. Goodbye,” he said. Those cheekbones truly were wasted on such a man.
But then he saw something intriguing. A flash of anger, or perhaps bottled frustration, illuminated his eyes. His lips twisted ever so slightly before he stalled himself back to a neutral expression.
It was then that Kevin hustled into the room with his portfolio, completely ignoring the small man’s presence. He dropped it down onto Andrew’s desk and flicked it open to the second page, where there was an asymmetric trouser cut and open-shirt concept in the works. Kevin was exact, articulate and always outdoing himself. That was the type of employer Andrew catered for. Not for frumpy street-rats who were too much of a squirrel to stand up for themselves.
Andrew thought the man had left. Instead, he’d marched back up to the desk, plucked his resume out from underneath Kevin’s portfolio and slapped it back down on top.
“My name,” he said, anger seeping into his tone. “Is Neil. I am smart and competent. Maybe this isn’t my world, but I am diligent. I know what I’m doing and I’m just as worthy a candidate as the rest of your ditzy model wannabees.” He straightened up, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his pockets. “Thank you for your time.”
Interesting, Andrew allowed, completely ignoring Kevin as he launched into another tirade.
Neil kicked the door closed behind him, still pissed off. Andrew Minyard was an asshole, a tiny, dead-eyed asshole. It really was in Neil’s best interest to look elsewhere -
hiya!!!! said a text from an unknown number, his phone buzzing in his back pocket. this is andrew’s other assistant, nicky!!!! you’re going to show up at 8.30am sharp tomorrow, or else. oh and pls don't wear jeans again!! these r andrews words, not mine. i’m so glad to have another person on the team!! see u tomoz!! xoxoxoo
Neil read the text once, then twice.
Well. It seemed like Neil had caught Andrew’s attention.
uhm short and sweet i will write a p2 i think i just felt like it was a good split there
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