"I'm so fucking done!" Scarlett grimaced whilst pushing back from her office desk. She sighed low and deep, stretching her sore arms to the ceiling with a content smile.

　　"Done! Done! Done!" Her whole body felt exhausted from the day's work, having sat on her seat for six hours in a row.

　　Rubbing a hand over her cheek, she ran her fingers through her dark curls which had somehow escaped from the ponytail she had attempted at holding up. Tilting her head side to side, Scarlett sighed in deflation and raised her eyes to the clock that hung overhead.

　　10.30PM

　　"Better than last night." She murmured rising to her feet and gathering her items. Plucking her handbag from beneath the table, Scarlett proceeded to shove her books and laptop rather recklessly.

　　The feeling of complete contentment at finishing her assignment was overwhelming. For the past month, Scarlett had stayed last midnight in the office, struggling to draw up programs and run new network software proposals  for the office's clients.

　　As a software engineer, especially a department dominated by the male species, Scarlett had to double her efforts in order to prove herself.

　　She loved software and computers since the age of five, often times opting to disfigure her father's phone, questioning how computers works and eventually developing her own minimal game at the age of fifteen.

　　Scarlett preferred computers over social interaction and spent majority of her time studying, developing and creating connections whilst in university.

　　Her efforts did not go to waste as she graduated in the dean's honors roll with a major in Software engineering. Being a female in a male dominated career earned her a quick job, though she would rather believe that her skills rather than sex was what got her the position, at a high tech company.

　　The pay was great, the benefits even better. However, in exchange for such an opportunity, Scarlett's social life suffered severely.

　　She placed business before friends and family, her dating life nonexistent. Most times her male coworkers would tease her on being so 'uptight' or perhaps even lesbian considering she showed no interest in them.

　　Their natter flickered dull annoyance in Scarlett. Sometimes she wished she could shove a fist down their throats but knew better. It was just male banter, she told herself. Nothing more.

　　You know if you loosened up a bit, maybe you'd finally attract some men.

　　You would look beautiful if you smiled more often.

　　Don't you know that engineering is for men?

　　"Sexist pigs," Scarlett ground out as she replayed their sentences from earlier on in the day. In their eyes, she was stuck up for being silent and closed off.

　　She was too sober for not wearing a skirt to work, instead she opted for loose slacks and the usual silk top with doll flats. No heels. Never heels.

　　Scarlett wore makeup but in minimal; the basic concealer to hide the shadows beneath her brown eyes and lipgloss if she felt fancy enough.

　　While the men met up at bars and had lunches together, Scarlett locked herself in the office with her nose buried on the laptop screen until phantoms of headaches began between her brows.

　　They had tried inviting her more than once, to which she would awkwardly decline or try to lie her way out of it. But she was a terrible liar, and they could tell. Eventually, they stopped asking her out and simply shrugged or gossiped over her antisocial behavior.

　　Scarlett paid them no heed. Their words once hurt, when she was twenty and fresh out of campus. Two years later and she developed thick skin from the bullying and sexist remarks. Ignorance and avoidance brought peaceful bliss.

　　Picking her handbag and laptop bag, Scarlett exited her cubicle whilst fishing for her phone.

　　The office was dark save for a few dim lights, Scarlett caught sight of the janitor two cubicles away, busy mopping while bopping his head to spanish music that blared in his earphones.

　　His gray head rose then, as though sensing her presence, and their eyes closed a circuit.

　　Scarlett nodded and raised her hand, waving amiably at the man. The janitor smiled back, revealing a mouthful of silver teeth. He was, perhaps, the only man she ever liked.

　　They had few conversations on nights where she would stay passed midnight, sometimes he would bring his thermos of chai or wrapped sandwiches and share it with her. Scarlett would decline kindly but after his constant insistence, she agreed.

　　Blowing out a breath, Scarlett punched the elevator button and stepped back, glancing at her phone screen.

　　"Friday night," she muttered gratefully. Friday night's meant self pampering— wine, a large Domino's pizza and love island reruns.

　　The weekend was the only time she truly relaxed, moreso on Friday and Saturday night considering Sunday's needed a day full of preparation for the week.

　　Stepping into the elevator, Scarlett hummed along to Frank Sinatra playing in the background, listless eyes wandering from the red floor numbers to the aluminium plated walls.

　　She stared at her reflection numbly; standing at just five feet five, she was petite with average breasts, a flat abdomen from skipped meals due to overworking, boring brown eyes that seemed black in the night, bronze skin from her Sri Lankan genetics and a headful of dark curls.

　　Scarlett was average looking, or so she thought. Many men had cast her sidelong glances but few ever approached. Perhaps it was her cold exterior, calculative stare and closed off expression that made her seem so unapproachable.

　　Scarlett tilted her head to the side and attempted at pouting her soft pink lips, batting lashes sarcastically.

　　Ugh, she shuddered at her false attempt at playing cute and straightened herself as the elevator doors slid open.

　　The basement was large and partially empty, two cars including hers only parked.

　　Her doll flats echoed in the vast expanse as she bee-lined for her car, casting an oblivious glance at the sleek black car parked across the lot.

　　Reaching into her handbag for her keys, Scarlett jumped startled when headphone rang.

　　"Jesus," she cursed sharply from the blaring ringtone then glared at the screen.

　　Adam. Scarlett groaned but answered nonetheless, "Hey Adam." She spoke casually.

　　"Scarlett, hey, how are you?" Adam's deep voice echoed from the opposite end. Her eyes rose heavenward briefly.

　　"I'm fine."

　　"Just left the office?" He teased and she made a face, not noticing the slightest movement from behind a pillar.

　　"Yup," she huffed, setting her laptop bag on the car's bonnet and fished for her keys absently.

　　"You need to rest more."

　　"I know."

　　The silence was short and she heard faint shuffling, nervous. "So listen," Adam began as her fingers curled around something cold and metallic. Car keys.

　　"Mmh,"

　　"Uh, my boss gave me two tickets for dinner reservations at the Hilton's this Saturday night..."

　　Scarlett rolled her eyes and removed the keys from her bag, "Mkay."

　　"... And I was wondering if you'd like to go with me?"

　　Scarlett sighed audibly, letting him brace for the expected rejection. "Adam, I— shit," her keys slipped from between her fingers and onto the concrete ground. Stooping low, Scarlett plucked them up, "this Saturday night won't work for me."

　　"That's the fourth rejection," he chucked dryly and she winced, almost feeling sorry for the guy.

　　Just as she straightened, Scarlett stared at the window of her car, noticing the sudden reflection of herself.

　　And a man behind her.

　　She moved too slow as something sharp pricked the side of her neck.