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Obsession

Such a word could describe anything really — an obsession with a show, a movie, a food, a style even — but none of those things really interested Patrick Bateman, sure, he liked a few things but the only thing he was really and truly obsessed with?

Self-image

Image was everything about a person.

Patrick couldn't stand someone who didn't take care of themselves simply because it showed that they were dirty slobs that didn't deserve anything in life. Luckily, Patrick was the complete opposite — he had everything planned out from his morning routine to his afternoon one to his night routine. He wanted to look better, always.

Because this was the only body you got — and Patrick liked to think of his body as a temple — never poisoning it or infecting it while everyone else's bodies well.... they were free reign.

Walking into work, Patrick had his headphones on — listening to something classical today as he was feeling calm. He walked down the hall and didn't pay attention to anyone because, why would he?

It wasn't until he walked past Jean that he realized something — she was talking to another woman. Patrick stopped before turning on his heel. Jean had stopped talking to the woman and smiled at Patrick — he took his headphones off and faked a smile. "Jean, who's this?" Patrick asked stiffly. His eyes raked over this mystery woman's body. Her hair was slicked back, her lips coated with a red color — but not bright or dark enough to look tacky — she wore a light brown shadow around her eyes, and she wore a black, long sleeve dress that was low cut and that stopped right at her knees. She wore black stilettos that put any other women in the offices shoes to shame.

"Oh, Patrick, this is Beatrice Kruger. She's gonna be taking my place while I go visit my family." Jean explained in an airy tone make Patrick's jaw tense — "Really? Okay." Patrick wanted to call her a dumb bitch for not telling him this and that he would fire her if she ever did anything without his permission again but he didn't — instead he just looked at Beatrice and nodded a greeting. "Nice to meet you Mr. Bateman." She greeted before pointing at his black suit, "Is that suit Valentino?" Patrick couldn't help the bashful smile that appeared.

"Yes it is. It's one of the many suits I have." Beatrice nodded before crossing her arms, "Interesting — and how many Valentino suits do you own exactly?" Patrick straightened up, "Forty. They're amongst the many other designer suits I own." Beatrice nods, "What other designers do you own because I actually own Valentino too along with Armani, Gucci, Canali, Kiton... and so on." Patrick grins, "I own a lot of those too but you know? I have so many I just can't think of the others."

The confident grin is clear on Beatrice's face as she knows she's won this discussion — Jean looks between the two with a confused expression, not really knowing what just happened. Patrick sighs and looks at Jean, "Enjoy your vacation." He says in a monotonous way — he shuffles to his office and slams the door causing Jean to jump while Beatrice stays still. She looks at the blonde before quirking her brow, "Hey, Jean, before you go — can you help me with something?"

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Walking outside to the parking lot, Beatrice wears an Armani coat while Jean wears whatever she could afford as a jacket. "What did you need help with again?" She asks as they approach Beatrice's car. It's a sleek, red Mercedes Benz with a leather interior. "Oh, I just need help moving something." Is Beatrice's answer — she pops the trunk and quickly grabs a pair of leather gloves from her jacket. Jean — being the naïve thing she is — looks down in the trunk and begins searching for whatever it is Beatrice wants to move.

"What am I looking for again?" Jean asks and as Beatrice grabs a sledgehammer from the backseat as she answers her, "Keep looking." She waits until Jean goes to look at her and that's when she brings the hammer down — breaking Jeans face and making her fall back into the trunk. "Enjoy your vacation you needy bitch." Beatrice hisses as she places the rest of Jean into the trunk — breaking a few of her bones in the process to make it easier for her. Throwing the sledgehammer with the rest of Jean — she slams the trunk closed.

Taking her gloves off, she threw them in the back seat before taking out her compact mirror — checking to see if she had any blood on her face which she luckily didn't so she quickly slipped back into the business building.

Acting like absolutely nothing happened.

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