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It's a Pack thing (open)
Who: Anahid
What: Working
Where: At the offices of PackMentality
When: Just after sunset
"Messages?"
"A few," the receptionist handed over a thin stack of papers.
"Thank you," Anahid smiled, flipping through the messages as she walked down the hall. Music did not blare in her offices, most of the employees were Weres and couldn't take the pain the noise caused on sensitive ears. Though they were far from being Sony BMG or Arista, they rode the happy little wave of independent music, letting the bands build themselves up by the music alone instead of creating an image that was only for commerical profit.
Anahid sat at her desk, beginning to open a mountain of envelopes that contained demo cd's. She was particular about the bands she signed, not in a snobby kind of way, but she needed to hear the heart of the music. Unlike the big record companies, she listened to every song, every version, every time. If there was no heart, she took a pass, but encouraged them to dig deeper and try again.
"Ana?"
"Yes?"
"That band I told you about," Dave prompted.
"Oh, yes! I need to locate a club for their showcase," she scribbled down a note.
"Thanks," he smiled.
"No problem, you have good taste," she smiled, already turning back to the demos.
Anahid leaned back into her chair, tapping a pen against the armrest. Dave was cute, tall, and her interest stopped there...she just couldn't find anyone she was attracted to. In her father's day he had no problem knowing that her mother was the mate for him, so what made Anahid so impossible to please? Her high standards, knowing there was no room for mistakes in choosing a mate for herself, because it directly affected the fate of the Pack. Her mother had surpassed the odds giving birth to three children, she had very impressive shoes to fill now.
She needed a latte, she decided. The slighest movement caught her attention as she opened one eye towards the office door.
What: Working
Where: At the offices of PackMentality
When: Just after sunset
"Messages?"
"A few," the receptionist handed over a thin stack of papers.
"Thank you," Anahid smiled, flipping through the messages as she walked down the hall. Music did not blare in her offices, most of the employees were Weres and couldn't take the pain the noise caused on sensitive ears. Though they were far from being Sony BMG or Arista, they rode the happy little wave of independent music, letting the bands build themselves up by the music alone instead of creating an image that was only for commerical profit.
Anahid sat at her desk, beginning to open a mountain of envelopes that contained demo cd's. She was particular about the bands she signed, not in a snobby kind of way, but she needed to hear the heart of the music. Unlike the big record companies, she listened to every song, every version, every time. If there was no heart, she took a pass, but encouraged them to dig deeper and try again.
"Ana?"
"Yes?"
"That band I told you about," Dave prompted.
"Oh, yes! I need to locate a club for their showcase," she scribbled down a note.
"Thanks," he smiled.
"No problem, you have good taste," she smiled, already turning back to the demos.
Anahid leaned back into her chair, tapping a pen against the armrest. Dave was cute, tall, and her interest stopped there...she just couldn't find anyone she was attracted to. In her father's day he had no problem knowing that her mother was the mate for him, so what made Anahid so impossible to please? Her high standards, knowing there was no room for mistakes in choosing a mate for herself, because it directly affected the fate of the Pack. Her mother had surpassed the odds giving birth to three children, she had very impressive shoes to fill now.
She needed a latte, she decided. The slighest movement caught her attention as she opened one eye towards the office door.