NOVEL WEB Chapter 5: The Rush
Mara's eyes snapped open, the soft morning light piercing through the curtains and hitting her face at an angle that felt almost cruel. Her alarm had gone off an hour ago, but she hadn't heard it. She hadn't even remembered the last time she'd fallen asleep. The clock on her nightstand read 8:45 AM, and her heart sank.
She was late.
She groaned, rolling over in bed and feeling the weight of her body as if it were cemented to the mattress. Her muscles ached, her legs especially—aching in a way she hadn't felt since her track days in high school. The rush through the forest, the running, the chasing—it was all too much for her out-of-shape body to handle. She hadn't run like that in years. The soreness in her calves and thighs reminded her of the grueling hours spent on the track, the pressure to be the best.
Now, it was all too much, and yet she couldn't afford to slow down.
She threw the covers off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing up with a soft wince as her knees cracked. She rubbed her face, taking a deep breath and trying to shake off the fogginess in her brain. Today wasn't just another day; it was the day. The day the media company she worked for was getting taken over by a larger corporation. There was no way she could afford to miss it. She had to be there, looking professional, presentable—no matter how sore she was or how much she regretted skipping breakfast.
"Come on, Mara," she muttered to herself, her voice rough from the exhaustion that still clung to her.
She dashed to the bathroom, barely taking a glance at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess—wet from the shower last night, now a tangled mess of damp waves framing her face. She ran a brush through it quickly, but it was no use; the strands seemed to have a mind of their own, refusing to cooperate with her efforts. She opted for the quickest fix, tying it into a messy bun on top of her head. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.
She splashed her face with cold water, trying to wake herself up, but the exhaustion still lingered. Her eyes were heavy, and her skin had that dull, lackluster appearance that came from too little sleep and too much stress. She didn't have time to worry about it.
Turning quickly to her closet, she grabbed the first outfit she could find—a simple white blouse, slightly wrinkled but still presentable, and a pair of black trousers. She tugged the blouse over her head and adjusted it as best as she could, throwing on the trousers and cinching them with her belt. She grabbed a cardigan from the back of her closet, not bothering to check if it matched—it was cold outside, and she'd be thankful for the extra layer.
No time for accessories, no time for primping.
She glanced at her phone screen, panic creeping in again as she saw that she had fifteen minutes to get to the office.
Mara darted into the kitchen, grabbed the first thing her hands touched—a half-eaten bar of chocolate from last night—and stuffed it into her bag. The hunger gnawed at her, but the chocolate was all she could manage in the rush. She shoved the bag onto her shoulder, grabbed her keys, and sprinted out the door, cursing under her breath.
The air outside was brisk, and the rain from last night had left the streets slick. Her legs were sore with every step, but she ignored it, pushing herself faster. She couldn't afford to be late—not today. Not with everything on the line. The takeover wasn't just a business deal; it was a shift in power, in authority. She had to be there, even if her body was telling her to collapse back into bed.
By the time she reached her office, her legs were screaming at her, the soreness becoming a sharp reminder of just how much she'd pushed herself the night before. But she kept walking, her heart racing, her mind focused on the impending meeting. As she stepped through the glass doors of the building, she took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. She wasn't about to let anyone see how tired she was.
Her colleagues were already buzzing about the takeover, talking in low voices as they gathered in the lobby. Mara didn't have time to chat. She walked past them, giving a quick smile to the receptionist before heading straight to the elevator. The chocolate bar was sitting uneaten in her bag, and she realized that she was too stressed to even care. It didn't matter now.
The elevator dinged, and she stepped out onto her floor, her heels clicking sharply on the tile as she made her way to the conference room. She ran her hands through her hair again, trying to make it look a little less like a bird's nest, but it was no use. She didn't have the luxury of time.
As she walked into the meeting room, the group of executives turned to look at her. Their eyes were scrutinizing, judging her appearance and her every move. But Mara didn't let the nerves get to her. She forced a confident smile, pushed back the lingering exhaustion, and sat down at the table.
She could do this.