I Know You (Didn't Forget Me)
Miranda Priestly x Andrea Sachs
I do not own these characters
| After 20 years, Andrea approaches Miranda as her coworker. She's going to be the new features editor as runway. However, Miranda doesn't appear to remember Andy. Is she telling the truth or just lying to keep her heart safe? |
Andrea stood in the elevator, her heeled boots slightly shaking. She couldn't tell if it was from how far she had walked that morning or if it was the nerves she felt to face her again. A couple other people filed in alongside her and she politely smiled, stepping to the side to allow more people in. The elevator doors closed and all the air was sucked out along with them. At least that’s how she felt, her chest constricting.
She had done plenty of scary things in the past twenty years. She had interviewed hundreds, wrote columns that were sure to piss off elected officials, and even quit an incredibly high-paying job just to see what else was out there. But this was by far the scariest. Facing her; her old boss, her once-nemesis, the object of all of her desires.
The elevator dinged and everyone filed off, except for Andrea. She couldn't find it within herself to move. She was a much more confident person and much more outgoing. However, she suddenly felt like the version of herself that she was 20 years ago; young, confused, soft-spoken. The doors started to close and she took in a sharp breath, holding out her hand and waiting for the doors to re-open before stepping off.
The environment was relatively the same. Busy people with busy schedules in busy heads. Women in heels clacking around the tiled floor, men with measuring tapes and guyliner. It smelled heavily of perfume and for a moment, Andrea wondered how she had ever survived the headache that this place gave her. Oh but part of her missed it dearly.
She walked down towards the office that she knew so well. A path she had taken a million times but that was so unfamiliar to her now. The lighting was brighter, harsher. It was hard for her to ignore the ever-growing headache and she couldn't help but pray it didn’t turn into a migraine. Over the past few years, she’s started to develop migraines and they get especially bad with intense smells and lighting. The exact kind of environment she was currently in.
Finally, she reached the assistant's desks. There was a blonde girl in the first assistant seat and a brunette girl in her old seat.. that looked suspiciously a lot like her.
“Oh hello! Do you have an appointment?” the brunette asked, clearly still in the honeymoon phase of this job. Or perhaps she had calmed down over the years and this wasn’t a hell of a job anymore.
“No, but she’s expecting me,” Andrea said, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.
“You need an appointment," the blonde said bluntly, “and you, you don’t talk to clients. You answer calls and run errands, okay?” She was looking at the brunette girl and Andrea took a small step back, not wanting to be involved.
The two of them started going back and forth and for a moment, Andrea got a glimpse of Emily and her. Apparently not much ever changes between the first and second assistants. While they were distracted, she stepped forward into her office. Her chair was turned around so Andrea cleared her throat to make herself known. That’s when the woman turned around.
“Hello,” Andrea said, with a smile large enough to light up the room.
The older woman stared at her for a moment. She hadn’t changed much. Her hair was whiter and her cheeks were just slightly more sunken. But she still wore a chic outfit with a scowl on her perfectly made-up face.
“Well look what TJ Maxx dragged in..”
Andrea looked over to face Nigel, who had a white dress in his hand. There was a rack right behind him and he was clearly trying to help Miranda pick out outfits for a new mock-up. The sight made something sink in Andrea. Nigel had only ever wanted to be his own boss, to run his own business, to work alongside Miranda, not under her. But still, 20 years later, he was here, doing her bidding. He looked content though so Andrea wasn’t planning to comment on it.
“Sorry, who is this? Do you know her?” Miranda asked, turning her chair and facing Nigel. He gave a slight nod with pursed lips as if he was apologetic to Andrea that she forgot. “Do I know her?” she questioned further, turning to face the girl again.
“I’m Andy Sachs,” Andrea said, a smile still gracing her face. The pain in her head was ever-growing but she tried to ignore it for the sake of keeping up a good impression. “Andrea,” she clarified, hoping her full-name would spark Miranda’s memory.
“She was one of the Emily's,” Nigel said, sliding the dress back onto the hanger and putting it back onto the rack.
“One of.. what?” Miranda asked, her phone resting in her hand as if she had previously been using it before Andrea had walked in.
Andrea’s stomach twisted with a sour feeling. Did Miranda really not remember her? To be fair, it had been twenty years and Andrea had only worked under Miranda for less than a year. But she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Andrea remembered her like the back of her hand, how could Miranda not even remember her face?
Nigel kept quiet, as if it wasn’t his place to acknowledge Andy and explain anything to her.
“Okay, well, anyways, I came here because I’m going to be the new Features editor here at Runway. So, memories of me or not, we’re going to be working together,” Andrea said, a smile on her face and her chest puffed out to make her appear more confident when really she was panicking about being this firm with the Miranda Priestly, a woman she once feared.
Both of them seemed to pause, Miranda more-so. Nigel fought off a smile on his face while Miranda looked like she was going to climb over the desk and strangle the daylights out of Andy. She turned back to Nigel, they both locked eyes. He nodded slightly and turned to look at Andrea.
“Who set this up?” he asked, seemingly talking for Miranda as she pursed her lips and went back to tapping on her phone.
Andy looked between the two and gave a nervous laugh, confused by their reactions. “Irv Ravitz,” she confirmed, hoping it would be enough to get the two off her back.
But she saw Miranda’s jaw tense slightly and her eyes flick up to Nigel.
“Miranda, I am so sorry, she just walked in and I was distracted–” the brunette assistant walked in, magazines in her hands that she was clutching with anxiety.
An annoyed sigh escaped Miranda’s mouth, “Tessa, can’t you see I’m handling it now?” Miranda asked, looking up to the assistant with clear irritation. She may have chilled out over the years but the fire never left.
“Tessa? Oh gosh, I was wondering if you were going to keep calling me Andrea forever,” she laughed out, clearly not understanding Miranda’s tone.
Andrea sat up a bit straighter at hearing what Tessa had said. She saw Nigel’s eyes widen and he purposefully avoided eye contact with anyone as he went back to looking through the dresses on the rack. Miranda was practically shooting daggers into the assistant. If looks could kill.. Tessa would be more than six feet under.
“That’s all,” Miranda said.
“But– don’t you want me to,” Tessa started, pointing to Andy.
“That’s. All,” Miranda repeated, her jaw flexing.
Tessa gave a slight bow of her head, finally getting Miranda’s message and stepping backwards out of the room. Nigel was next. He could sense the tension that laid in the air between Miranda and Andrea. He frankly didn’t want anything to do with it. So he stepped out next, closing the door behind him.
“So you do remember me,” Andrea said, slightly irritated with the woman sitting in front of her.
“Do I remember you abandoning me before one of my most important events in Paris? Of course I do,” Miranda said, pulling at her ear. It was a habit that she never seemed to get rid of.
“Oh come on, Miranda. You can’t still be upset about that. That was twenty years ago,” Andrea said, a nervous smile on her lips.
Miranda only sighed, making Andrea’s words stop short.
She wasn’t looking at her anymore, she had gone back to looking at her phone as if Andrea’s presence meant nothing to her at all. Andy clenched her jaw and gave a slight nod, the throb in her head only worsening as the lights in the office seemed to get brighter.
“Fine, well, I’ll be here on Monday to start my position. So whether you want to see me or not–” she stood up, pulling her bag back up onto her shoulder, “–I’ll be here.”
Andrea turned around. The sudden turn made her head pound and she grimaced to herself, grateful that Miranda couldn’t see her face as of right now. Her fingers dug into the brown ethically-sourced leather of her bag as she started forward, reaching for the door. The door used to be glass, though it seemed Miranda had it replaced with a solid wooden door with two cloudy windows. Probably for more privacy, old people really liked their privacy.
“Andrea,” Miranda’s voice echoed through the room and made Andrea pause.
She turned, facing Miranda who was now standing.
“I don’t want to work with you,” she said.
“That’s not your decision to make,” Andrea replied.
“It can be. I’ll contact Irv, tell him I want someone else.”
Andrea approached the desk, now irritated and angry. She set her bag down; well, more like let it slide off her arm and hit the floor.
“You are acting like a child, Miranda. Which, frankly, is ironic because you're what, in your seventies now? It’s been twenty years! You have to let it go,” Andrea pleaded, now standing directly in front of the desk, only a foot and a half away from Miranda.
“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot let go of. You disappointed me, Andrea,” she said, looking away from the girl.
Andrea crossed her arms, “so much that you call your new assistants by my name?”
“I’m too old to learn new names.”
“Yeah, okay. You want to know what I think?”
“Absolutely not–” Miranda finally looked back at Andy.
“I think you missed me. But you aren’t going to admit that, just like always. This is exactly why I left. You haven’t changed at all.”
Miranda’s face was now a mix of betrayal and anger, “get out.”
“Glady,” Andrea turned around and picked up her bag. The sudden bend down made stars appear in her vision and she swayed slightly on her feet. A small groan escaped her mouth which she didn’t even notice until Miranda was by her side.
“Are you okay? You're not going to collapse on my carpet, are you?” the older woman asked.
Andrea observed her face for a moment, though her vision was blurry and it felt like there was a sharp fire tearing through her head. She nodded slightly, not wanting to show any weakness in front of Miranda, "I'm fine.”
She collected herself and took a few steps towards the door. On her way, she realized that she was indeed not okay. And unlike Miranda, she could admit when she needed help. It was 2026 for god’s sakes, she was allowed to take a moment when a migraine set in. Her feet paused, her legs now feeling weak and shaky in her high heels. She closed her eyes, but the bright lights still flooded through her eyelids.
“Can I– sit for a minute?” Andrea asked.
Miranda didn’t respond, she only stepped aside to allow a space for Andrea to walk over to the couch that was in the middle of her office. She was concerned for the woman, never seeing this kind of pain written on her face before. Though it has been twenty years, a lot can develop and change during that time.
Andrea only opened her eyes slightly, fumbling her way over to the couch, kicking off her heels, throwing down her bag, and lying down. She grabbed a pillow and put it over her face, reveling in the sudden darkness.
“What’s wrong with you?” Miranda asked, standing by the couch with her arms crossed.
“Migraine,” Andrea spoke muffled through the pillow. She groaned, adjusting on the couch as another hot flash gripped at her eyes.
She heard shuffling around and took the pillow off her head, wincing as she expected the bright white lights. But she was only returned with a dark room and Miranda pouring Advil into her hand. Andrea’s stomach finally relaxed, knowing Miranda didn’t hate her so much that she didn’t care about her.
Miranda put the bottle back into her desk and walked back over to the couch.
“Take these,” she said, holding out the pills and a cold bottle of water from her mini fridge.
Andrea looked at the pills and then up at Miranda, “how do I know you’re not trying to poison me?”
“Oh yes, because I have the motivation to kill my once favorite assistant.”
“Well–” Andrea started, a smile on her face again.
“Take them,” she held them out further.
Andrea sighed and sat up, taking the pills from Miranda’s hand and the water. She unscrewed the lid and threw the two small pills back in her mouth before swallowing them with a sip of water. Miranda watched her the entire time and she could tell. It was impossible not to know when Miranda was watching her, she could quite literally feel the goosebumps that Miranda’s gaze made on her skin.
“Wait, I’m your favorite?” Andrea smiled weakly, looking at Miranda as she sat down, her arms still crossed as if Andy’s migraine was putting her out in some way.
“Past tense,” Miranda said bluntly, pursing her lips.
Andrea sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. She may have a better wardrobe and more confidence but her clumsy, childish way of moving and sitting never left.
A silence fell between them for a nice while. The Advil very slowly started to work, aiding Andrea’s migraine and her upset stomach. It almost felt like they had gone back in time for a moment. There would be days when Miranda and Andrea would work side by side on her couch. Miranda would stay relatively silent and Andrea would talk her ear off until she was told to keep quiet. Then they would just relax in each other’s presence. Andrea still blamed herself for screwing it all up most days.
“You hurt me,” Miranda admitted.
That made Andrea look at her, sitting up slightly as she bit her cheek.
“Let me finish,” Miranda said before taking a deep breath, “I have never let anyone in. No one. Not Stephen, not Irv.”
Her jaw tensed and Andy sunk back into the couch, realizing that she needed to just be quiet and let Miranda talk.
“But I let you in. I didn’t want to but you are.. so persistent. I trusted you, I mentored you, I lov.. And you left. You betrayed me. You could’ve stuck with me and we could’ve been great. But you just– left,” she said.
Andrea’s jaw tensed. She never really knew how much of an impact she had left on Miranda. She was the dragon lady, the one everyone feared. She didn’t think her presence left that much of a mark on the older woman.
“I’m sorry, Miranda,” Andy said, leaning over and placing her hand on the other woman’s. The pounding in her head and heat behind her eyes had subsided slightly and she was able to put more of her attention on Miranda. She continued, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I– I didn’t mean to leave. You taught me so much. About work, about myself, about fashion,” she gestured to her clothes and let out a small laugh. She pulled away and played with the rings on her fingers as she quieted down again, “I thought I was just a blip to you. I mean, you played a significant role in my life but– I didn’t think I mattered that much to you. I thought you would want me to leave, to do what I thought was right for work, for my life.”
“Of course I did, Andrea,” she turned her head to look in Andy’s eyes before sighing and putting her head in her hands, “but I also missed you.”
Andrea couldn't stop herself from smiling, a grin crawling up her face as she bit her cheek as to keep her from laughing. She lightly pushed Miranda's arm, an action only she would ever be allowed to do. “Age made you soft,” she said, teasing the once cruel and scary woman.
Miranda glared at her, her jaw clenched. She turned her head away again, clearly trying to keep her eyes from wandering too far downwards. “How are you feeling?” she mumbled.
Andrea shifted again on the couch, sipping some more of the water. “I'm okay now. Most of it has subsided,” she responded.
The older woman nodded as she turned fully towards Andy now. Her eyes traveled across her face and she pursed her lips before smiling to herself slightly. She held her hand out, “I look forward to working with you, Andrea.”
Andrea smiled, putting her hand in Miranda's and giving a slight shake. “And I you, Miranda.”
