Aisha's client leaned forward in his padded armchair, white-knuckling his laptop on the desk between them.
"Now Dylan-" Aisha began.
"No." He replied, his face growing red as he turned his screen around for her to see. "Twenty down. Twenty!" He stated, staring daggers.
"This is a temporary setback, Dylan. If you'll look at the trend over a longer period of time-"
"Absolutely not!" He bellowed. "If you think I'm paying for this commission, you're out of your mind!"
"My commission?" Aisha replied, her eyes widening. "Sir, you agreed-"
"I agreed to pay for useful consultation, not a-"
"Would you stop fucking interrupting me!?" Aisha slammed her palms down on the mahogany table, standing up from her seat.
There was silence for a few moments. Dylan sneered at her from his armchair. "Get out of my house."
"Sir, please-"
Dylan got up out of his armchair. "Get out of my house!" He repeated, pointing towards the door.
The cold light of the streetlamp by the bus stop revealed Aisha's breath hanging in the air. Standing alone, the city rose around her like a monster, the buildings threatening to cave in around her. She crushed an empty coke in her hand, ignoring the pain. "Fucking assholes..." She mumbled, tossing it behind her. It bounced off the side of the trash can, and she heard it hit the concrete.
Aisha groaned and turned around, bending over in her pantsuit to pick it up, but the can was gone. In its place lied a silvery medallion, decorated with triangular engravings in a star shape, a spiraling pattern that drew the eye towards the tiny red jewel in the center. Aisha lifted the medallion up by the delicate chain which had been splayed across the concrete, examining the thing. There were no markings that looked like they could be writing, with the exception of what she recognized as a greek delta on the back. She glanced around herself, but saw neither the can nor anyone who may have left the medallion. "Weird, but it looks valuable." She muttered to herself, letting the chain fall around her neck.