AN: First Devil Wears Prada fic! I hope you like. Sorry for any mitakes and over OOCness! I am trying!
Please review and check out my other fics!
I guess you could call me a liar. I lied when I fist walked onto the floor of Runway to apply for the job there. I lied to Emily when I pretended not to know who Miranda was. I lied right to the woman herself when I said I didn't know anything about Runway or the woman who ran it.
I was twenty three and I met Miranda Priestly four years ago. I was nineteen and met her at some random party with some friends. Nothing more than a simple black dress and heels. My hair had been chopped short then. It was one night of drunkenness. I had been simply lucky to get in at all.
The people who knew said it was a miracle. The papers went crazy. Doctors talked out, so much for patient/doctor secrecy huh?
The Headlines read: A secret son to Miranda?, in big bold red letters.
My family acted as if we'd adopted him. My parents didn't know her and asked who the father was, I said nothing about it.
Mikcheal Anntonny Tailor was a secret. The doctors said he was related to the Priestly's and nothing else. And we were left alone.
I had no idea how it happened, I didn't really want to know. Because it was kind of impossible, and I loved him all the same.
His hair is a curly strawberry blonde hair and blue brown eyes. I loved his hair, they were corkscrew curls. He got it cut twice a year. He'd just recently got it cut as well.
He was with me when I walked onto the 17th floor. Hopping along in front of me happily. He liked black. Black jeans and a hybrid shirt of white and black with a skull on it was what he wore now.
I stepped up to the front desk, Mikcheal hopping up and down excitedly. "Hi, I uh, have an appointment with…" I took out the slip of paper I'd written the name on. "Emily Charlton." I tucked the slip of paper back in my pocket. I saw someone walk out of a set of doors to my left.
"Andrea Sachs?" I looked over. The woman was pretty but had a skeptical look on her face.
She chuckled meanly. "Right well, Human Resources certainly has an odd sense of humor." What did that mean? "Follow me." That jolted Mikcheal into action. He hopped over to her and she looked down at him curiously. "Who are you?"
"Mikcheal Anntonny Tailor." He said proudly. Emily looked up at me and raised a brow in question.
"He's mine." I smiled.
She sighed. "Right. Come on." She turned and I followed, Mikcheal looking around curiously. "Okay, so I was Miranda's second assistant, but her first assistant was recently promoted so now…I'm the first." She sounded a little proud.
I thought it was a little funny. "Oh, so you're replacing yourself?" I smirked.
"Well I am trying." She clearly didn't find it funny. "Miranda sacked the last two girls after just a few weeks." That sounded like her. I grabbed Mikcheal's shoulder to keep him from wandering. "We need to find someone who can survive here, do you understand?" She continued.
"Yeah of course." Time to play stupid. "Who's Miranda?" Good job Andy.
Emily glanced back at me in shock. "Oh my God, I will pretend you did not just ask me that. She's the editor-in-chief of Runway." I simply continued to look dumb. "Not to mention a legend." She took on a tone of admiration. "You work a year for her and you can get a job at any magazine you want. A million girls would kill for this job."
Keep up the act and pray you don't run into her. Pray she doesn't recognize you. "Well it sounds like a great opportunity, I'd love to be considered." She gave a nasty laugh. How mean was this girl?
"Andrea, Runway is a fashion magazine." She made it sound like I couldn't tell just from looking at the pictures. And I was already well aware of what it was. "So interest in fashion is crucial."
"What makes you think I'm not interested in fashion?" Okay…I could have said something smarter, but…oh well. She eyed me with amusement before her phone rang.
She had a look of panic so I knew what was going on. Miranda was on her way. I was also well aware of her ability to frighten people with a simple glare.
"Oh my God…no, no, no!" Emily shouted and ran over to her desk.
"What is it ma?" Mikcheal asked quietly. I looked down at him and shrugged. The halls were alive with people running around in what I would guess is fear. I was aware of someone standing beside me and they moved away. I looked up at a balding man with round glasses opening the door behind Mikcheal and I screaming down the hall, "Alright everyone, gird your loins!"
He looked back in the room with a disgusted face. "Did someone eat an onion bagel?" Uh oh.
Emily sat me at the other desk and mumbled something about hopping I wasn't seen. So much for never running into her again. But oh well…this job would help me in a big way. I smiled as Mikcheal climbed under the desk and played invisible.
She walked by, still as beautiful and witty as ever. I watched her on TV quite a few times and listened to her interviews. Miranda had cold bones, and the chill from her bones ran through her blood.
She glanced at me as she walked into her office. "Who is that?" Good, she didn't remember me. I could play stupid and keep that up. If I got the job that is. And as long as I kept Mikcheal out of her line of sight. He looked more like her than me.
"Nobody." Emily moved to block me. "Um, ah…Human Resources sent her over about the new assistant job and I was kind of pre-interviewing her for you. But she's hopeless." She laughed, a mix of fear and humor.
Next thing I know Emily comes back out saying that Miranda wants to see me. I walked in, very self conscious and nervous she may remember. But she doesn't. And that man from before walks in, interrupting me. I turn to leave as Mikcheal walks in, looking around the office curiously.
He's drawn the attention of Miranda and the man now.
He settled himself in a chair and glanced over at Miranda. He smiled. "You got a lot of glass around here pretty lady. You like clear?" He asked innocently.
Miranda stared at him for a moment. "It's decent."
Mikcheal smiled. "That's nice. I don't like clear."
"Why's that?" Miranda was actually getting into a conversation with him? Wow.
"It's clear. Anybody can see. I like black." He smiled. I was sure that when he was older he'd be very charming. His teeth were perfectly straight and bright.
"Black is good." She nodded her approval and turned to me. "Is he yours?"
She looked back at him. "What's your name?"
"Mikcheal Anntonny Tailor." He repeated again, always proudly.
"Spell it." Miranda demanded.
"M-I-K-C-H-E-A-L, A-N-N-T-O-N-N-Y, T-A-I-L-O-R." He looked up at the ceiling in concentration.
"I see. Quite clever." Miranda commented. She gave Mikcheal a faint smile and looked at me. "That's all." I looked over at Mikcheal and he climbed out of the chair and walked over to my side. We left the office and made out way out before Mikcheal turned back.
Miranda and the man were back to work, Mikcheal didn't care. "Bye, pretty lady." He called. Miranda looked up and gave him a kind smile before returning to her work. So she had a soft spot for kids huh?
I was called in at six in the morning, the sun was barely up. Nate would be out to work soon and Mikcheal was home schooled. So I took him with me to work. He was never cranky, but he could whip out a good Miranda glare when he got a little annoyed.
Mikcheal was walking along beside me still half asleep. I had some papers for him to work on in my bag. Emily called me and I began to trot along with Mikcheal following, starting to wake up.
I arrived and Emily had to make a quip at me. I sucked my teeth and headed over to the new desk.
Mikcheal sat on the floor with a coloring book. He had several.
After my first unsuccessful call taking Nigel walked up with a pair of heels dangling from her fingers. "I guessed and eight and half." Wow, just about spot on.
I took them. "That's very nice of you, but I don't think I need these." How wrong I'd been. "Miranda hired me, she knows what I look like."
He looked at me skeptically. "Do you?"
"Hey!" Mikcheal called. "Be nice to Ma." He glared up at the bald man, who held up his hands and apologized quietly. I smiled down at him.
"Does he go to school?" Nigel asked curiously.
"Home school. He'll go when he's a bit older. Maybe." I wanted to send him to high school or college, nothing before then. He was sure he wanted to be an artist.
"I see." He looked down at Mikcheal. "What are you going to do when you get older?"
Mikcheal looked up at him with a wide, bright smile. "Art!" He declared.
"Very good." Nigel nodded and looked through some papers I'd brought from home.
"Emily." I heard Miranda call. I looked around for the girl. "Emily." She called again, a little impatient now.
"She means you." Nigel spoke quietly. I hopped up and entered the office.
She was talking to the two people in the room and glanced at me. "There you are Emily, how many times do I have to scream your name?" I couldn't believe this woman had a hard time remembering names.
"A-actually it's Andy." She looked surprised. "My name…Andrea but everybody calls me Andy." A stupid thing to say.
She eyed me for a moment before smirking and laughing meanly. She told me what she needed and I was more confused than ever. How did she expect people to listen if she was snapping out orders like that?
I walked out as quickly and as soon as I could and slipped on the heels Nigel had given me.
Miranda didn't like me, that was clear, and that was good. I didn't want to get attached. I didn't want Mikcheal to get attached. I didn't want the world to find out about him. Because if they did, Mikcheal would become a test subject for doctors. Being poked and prodded and jabbed with needles. I wouldn't let that happen.
Emily showed up. And I left. I had to do Miranda's bidding, Mikcheal packing up his art book and following after me.
"Oh my God." Emily shot up from her desk. She loved saying that huh? "What took you so long, I have to pee." To much information.
"You haven't gone since I left?"
"I haven't been manning the desks haven't I?" Oh yeah.
Miranda walked in. Where was Mikcheal!?
She tossed her coat and purse on the desk and walked into her office. "Mikcheal right?" I heard her ask.
"What are you doing?"
"Coloring." He answered quietly.
I looked at Emily who appeared as shocked as I was.
"You're quite good."
"I'm gunna be an artist when I grow up." I could hear the smile on his face.
"Are you a mommy?"
I heard Miranda chuckle softly and there was silence. Emily snapped at me and mouthed, 'Do the coat!' Telling me to hang it up. I quickly jumped into action.
"Do you like being a mommy?"
"That's nice." He giggled. "How many?"
"Do they go to school?"
"Mm hm. I'm guessing you don't."
"Nope. Home school."
"You seem quite bright."
"Thank you pretty lady." I tried very hard to keep myself from smiling at his cuteness.
"You can call me Miranda."
"I like pretty lady better. Are you a sister?"
"Mm hm." Was she even working?
"Older or younger?"
"Brothers or sisters?"
"Are they nice?"
"Do you like your work?"
"Did you always wanna do this?"
"Dreams are nice."
"That they are."
"Want me to stop talking while you work pretty lady?"
Emily finally came back after her lunch break and I was very hungry. Mikcheal decided to stay in Miranda's office. I ran into Nigel while getting something to eat.
"Hmm, corn chowder. That's an interesting choice. You do know that cellulite is one of the main ingredients in corn chowder." I smiled and closed the lid, moving on, getting a muffin.
"So none of the girls here eat anything?" I already knew that. These girls were stick skinny.
"Well not since two became the new four, and zero became the new two." He answered easily.
"Well I'm a six." I spoke self consciously.
He looked at me with a furrowed brow. "Which is the new fourteen." He snipped.
I dripped food on my clothes and the constant quips about them made me hate them now. Nigel's cell rang and he dumped our tray's. "Come on. Miranda's pushed the run through up half an hour. And she's always fifteen minutes early."
He snapped his fingers and pointed, walking past me, "You're already late."
"Oh! Shoot!" I followed him quickly, running in heels was not easy.
Mikcheal sat at Miranda's desk eating McDonald's. I looked at him curiously. He pointed at Miranda and went back to his meal. Miranda was much soft then. Or maybe that was just kids she was nicer to.
Miranda was a very picky woman.
"No, Where are all the other dresses." She shot down every idea thrown at her.
"Why is it so impossible to make a decent run through, you people have had hours to prepare."
She shot down another idea and spotted something, pulling it out and showing it to Nigel.
I really didn't get this stuff.
"Where are the belts for this dre…" a girl ran by her to get what was asked for. "Why is no one rea-dy?" She asked in annoyance.
The blonde girl pulled out two belts that looked exactly the same. And she claimed they were so different.
Mikcheal let out a small grunt and all eyes went on him.
"What?" Miranda asked quietly.
Mikcheal looked at the blonde. "The only difference is the buckle. They're not so different. Just the buckle."
"Mikcheal." I spoke quietly and I heard him say something he only could have learned from Nate.
"Don't be a kiss ass." He mumbled and glared at the girl before going back to his food.
Miranda looked quite impressed with him. "Thank you Mikcheal."
And when she left he again called out, "Bye pretty lady!" And she gave him a small wave. I glanced at Nigel.
"She has a soft spot for children. Don't be fooled. If you'd have said something she'd have eaten you alive." I believed him.
"What do you say around him Nate!?"
"Don't lie to me! What do you think he can't understand you?"
Nate huffed and apologized. He'd always wanted Mikcheal to call him 'dad' but Mikcheal was smart. He put two and two together and saw that they looked nothing alike so…he figured out that Nate wasn't his dad.
I sat on the couch and watched cartoons with my 'miracle' of a son. He should have been a girl but…here he was.
The next few weeks were basically hell. Miranda was only kind to Mikcheal. Who spent most of his time in her office, finishing his work. And more often than not I found her helping him with something. Could this work? Could I make her get a relationship with Mikcheal without her knowing a thing? I hoped so. He needed to know her. Not for me but for himself.
"Miranda?" I listened in while doing my work.
"You don't like my mom do you?"
"She does a decent job I suppose."
"But that's not what I asked you."
"Then describe your question in better detail please." Woah! He'd gotten Miranda to say please? That was a record for the books.
"You don't like my mom as a person?"
"Why are you mean?"
"You're a mean lady to other people, but your nice to kids. Why?"
"Well I have my own children."
"So if you didn't have them you'd be mean to kids too?"
"That's kinda shallow."
"Why is your vocabulary so good? How old are you?"
"Four and a half. Why? How old are you?"
"I'd rather not talk about it?"
"Are you my mommy's age and just have silver hair?" Awww.
"…No I'm not. I'm a little older."
"Oh. Okay. Are your brothers ever gunna be here?"
And that was the end of that conversation. I should hate Miranda, I kind of already do. But because she has a dog I have to walk every now and then, Mikcheal wants one too.
Finally the day had come when my dad would come to visit and Miranda was going to Florida. We were going to see Chicago. He'd be happy to see Mikcheal.
"You can go now." Emily spoke quietly after leaving Miranda's office.
I stood and grabbed Mikcheal's and my own coat. I stood in the doorway and looked over at him, he was seated on a small two-seat. "Mikkey." I called. He jumped up and ran awkwardly over to me, like he still was hardly aware of his own limbs.
"Yep." I handed him his coat and he slipped it on, looking back at Miranda.
"Bye pretty lady."
"Good night." Miranda spoke quietly.
I was sure I was going to get fired when Miranda came back. I failed in my job. She wanted to come home and I couldn't do that. She stood in front of her desk, playing with her necklace, glaring daggers at me. Mikcheal sat behind her at her desk.
He tugged at her sleeve when it looked like she was about to bite my head off. "Please be nice. Mommy really did everything she could. She even thought about using the…the N G thingy. The natio…national guard?" He looked at me and I nodded once. He looked back at Miranda with his bright eyes. "She really did try." He had to listen to my father's ranting about it.
Miranda sighed and looked at me. Keeping the insults and quips to a minimum, for which I was thankful. I left him under Miranda's watchful eyes and took a stroll about the building, eventually finding Nigel.
I was afraid she would hate me. Why? I didn't know. "She hates me Nigel."
"And that's my problem because? Oh wait…it's not." He went back to work.
"I don't know what else I can do!"
He looked up at me. "Quit. I can get another girl to take your job in five minutes. One that really wants it."
"No, I don't wanna quit. That's not fair. I'm just saying I'd like a little credit for all the killing work I do."
"Ugh, Andy you aren't trying. You are whining!" He stood and tucked a sheet behind more papers. "What is it you want me to say to you huh? Miranda's picking on you, poor you? Poor Andy?"
Well…no. But saying thank you to an adult wouldn't kill her.
"Wake up, Six." He pointed his pencil at me with a glare on his face. "She's just doing her job."
I bit the inside of my bottom lip.
"Do you not understand that you are working at the place that published some of the greatest artists of the century?" Not really. He looked back at me. "And what they did, what they created…was greater than art." He picked up a sketch book. "Because you live your life in it." I hadn't seen it that way. "Well not you, obviously, but some people."
Another quip! How original.
"Do you think this is just a magazine?" He picked up an edition of Runway and flipped the pages. "This is not just a magazine! This is a shining beacon of hope for…oh I dunno…let's say a young boy growing up in Rhode Island, with six brothers who pretended to go to soccer practice when really he was going to sewing class and reading Runway under the covers at night with a flashlight." Was he gay?
But I figured he had a point. Maybe I had been looking at this all wrong.
"You have no idea how many legends have walked these halls. And what's worse…you don't care. Because, where this place, where so many people would die to work…you only deign to work." He pointed another pencil at me as he sat. "And you want to know, why she doesn't kiss you on the forehead, and give you a gold star on your work at the end of the day." Miranda had kissed me on the forehead. The morning after. And she'd left. Nigel pressed the pencil tip into the skin above the bridge of my nose and between my eyebrows. "Wake up sweetheart." He spoke softly.
I looked up and tossed the words he'd spoken to me around my skull. "Okay so I'm screwing it up." He gave a sound of approval. "But I don't want to. I just wish that I…" That was it…make a change. Before Mikcheal I had semi-cared about my whole appearance. But after, I became to busy. Just looking what I thought was presentable. I sighed and looked at Nigel. "Nigel…Nigel, Nigel."
"Hmm-mm?" I looked up and knew just from the look on my face. "No."
"I don't know what you expect me to do." Nigel walked in ahead of me. Wow…this place was…amazing! "There's nothing in this whole place that will fit a size six." I followed him. "There are all sample sizes two and four."
This could work.
Mikcheal was sitting at my desk when I walked in. Emily and Serena were clearly talking about me. Mikcheal looked over and grinned at me. "Who's that pretty lady?"
"Mikcheal." I nodded playfully.
"Oh…you're my mom. I remember now!" I giggled with him and kissed his forehead before answering the phone.
I was getting better and better at my job and getting free clothes and began to take a real interest in fashion. Mikcheal did as well. Nigel had convinced Miranda to get him designer clothes made just for him. Even little suits that he looked quite dashing in. I was starting to like the appreciative looks Miranda gave me.
Life was getting better.
If only a little.