Alex's POV
"Yeah.. It was nice, really good," I told as I pulled my hand away from his.
'Alex what the f*ck is wrong with you?'
'Why are you praising him?'
"Margie asked me to inform you your resignation letter is ready, you must collect it by tomorrow, " he muttered, scanning me from top to the bottom.
"Resignation?" I was puzzled, unable to put my thoughts together.
"Yeah dude, resignation. Remember your climax like scene?"
Right.
The resignation!
I can't resign yet!
My task isn't finished!
What do I say to the Fate Manager?
I tug at my remaining hairs on my scalp, looking at him square in the eyes. He stared back, probably thinking I had lost my sanity.
"Wait, M-Margie... I need to talk to her. Is she still at the office?" My words were hasty, posture that of a runner before a race.
"Yeah."
Those words were no short of a blank gun at a racing track. I closed the door behind me and ran towards the elevator, leaving him standing behind, probably unable to comprehend the situation.
"Wait I'll come with you!" He exclaimed as he rushed towards me, matching my pace and running across the hallway, which was ultimately of no use as the elevator was out of service.
"Yeah! The stairs!" Adrenaline pumping through me was thinking I was doing something adventurous but it was actually life-threatening.
I rushed down the stairs, he followed me until we ran into the theatre hall and barged right into Margie's office. Safe to say, she wasn't happy to see us.
"Margie... I... Don't... Want... To... Resign," I puffed out the words, taking a breath between each word. My limbs were giving in, as I rested my hands on my thighs.
"Alex, did you run a marathon?"
"No we were just playing around... Haha," Ben threw in a chuckle, deepening the atmosphere.
"I really don't appreciate this," She picked up the air freshener kept on her cabinet and started spraying around. "You both stink." She scuffed.
Margie was very particular about her things. She is okay with everything going wrong anywhere except her office. It has to be cleaned and organised at all times. I mean, she did have stuff in there. The exquisite blue velvet rug, the white oak table, the tufted chairs, the olive wood table, her room screamed expensive.
Not just expensive but organised too. Her keyboards lined correctly, the laptop wires always untangled, her devices placed in measured grids, all was enough to tell she loved her room.
Us stinking it up definitely tarnishes its image.
"Margie, Alex wants to share something with you." Ben spoke up, looking at me and pointing towards me.
"What is it?" She scrunched her nose.
"Yeah... Margie... I have realised maybe I was a little hasty about my decision and would like to continue... Would that be possible?"
She kept the aerosol on the table and folded her hands across, "So you wish to work with us?"
"Yes."
"Okay but Ben isn't leaving."
"I know, I'm okay with that, with times like this, I really need the job."
'Gosh, humans have to lie so much to survive.'
"I understand, and since you're very useful to us, we'll take you back. But you have to deliver." Her tone was different now, apathetic and blunt.
"Okay, yeah, I understand. I'll do some extra work."
"Sure. Ben will take you to the costume department, please oversee the script and the costume."
"Will do, thank you for understanding..." My words trailed off.
"Okay now go with Ben, I have lots to do."
"Of course," I said as I tugged his collar and pulled him outside the office.
"Ow!" He screeched, unlocking his collar from my hands.
"Much deserved," I scoffed, flicking his nose and speeding away from there as fast as I could.
"Stop right there!" He shouted as charged towards me, but it was too late.
Since I had worked here before and was reinstated, I knew a fair share of my way around. I didn't need that newbie to guide me. I climbed two flights of stairs and reached the hallway where our costume department worked.
It was a small, narrow hallway with doors on both sides, each labelled with the corresponding sub-department. Being it the first stage of the costume rehearsal, I decided to check out the main outfits. I walked to the last room in the hallway, pushing the door open and entering inside.
"Wow! Has Margie never visited this place?" I asked as I looked across.
It was a MESS, to say the least.
Clothes all over the floor, racks dismantled and the rods thrown around, shoes scattered in random pairs and the worst of all, the place stank of wet clothes, the putrid sour smell that pierced the nose when clothes are left soaked without being dried for days.
"Blergh!" I gagged.
"I can't do this!" I shuffled my hands to avoid the smell and turned back, when I saw someone enter the room.
Who could it be other than him?
Perhaps I was standing in the blind spot of the room, he couldn't see me. He walked into the room with cautious steps holding a bag, looking around. His sharp eyes once again lifeless were scanning the room like a surveillance camera. When he felt assured, he put the bag on the table.
"This is so embarrassing," He mumbled under his breath as his cheeks flushed.
"What is wrong with him?" I gave him a side eye.
He took out the contents of the bag. It was iced coffee in a clear cup, probably full of sugar, exactly what I needed at the moment.
"How does he know? And is that for me?" I was puzzled.
He started walking deeper into the room because I couldn't show him my face. As he progressed, I took a step back towards the wall.
A step forward. A step back.
Step forward. Step back.
CLANG! CLANG! Crash!
I didn't realise where I was walking towards because I walked straight into the mess of the racks and tripped, falling head first onto the metal rods. The sound must have startled him, as he came running to the source.
"W-what are you doing here?!" He shot in a questioned state.
Idiot. Can't he see my state?!
"Me? I was just trying to make music on rods." I glared at him. "Of course I fell down, you idiot!"
"I know! I want to know why the room's a mess?" He said, giving out a hand.
I propped up and firmly grabbed it, getting up and fixing my t-shirt and pants. These were old, but doesn't mean I can get them dirty.
"Who has been in charge of this place!" I shouted. "It's a f*king mess!"
"Actually, it was me but I was taken off last week. I think it's an intern now." He replied.
"Of course it's you! I started walking towards him, while he stepped back."Don't you know what cleanliness is?" I pointed at him. "Has anyone ever taught you cleanliness? Were your parents never at home?!" I yelled at him, giving him the psychopathic death stare.
His eyes, though dead now drooped looking down. His face tensed up, as I noticed a glimmer in his eyes.
"I-I was an or-orphan. I never had a home," he muttered and looked up at me, his face devoid of expression.
Hearing those words suddenly made my ear pulse faster. My body felt hotter as a felt a sharp stab straight to my chest, goosebumps all around my body and a sense of shame sweeping over me. This must be the guilt feeling I write about.
"Look," my voice was soft and trailed of. I couldn't speak a word. I simply looked at him and he looked back, both of us searching for words to break the silence.
"I.. I am sor-"
"You don't hav-"
We both said at the same time. He giggled softly, telling me I had awakened the lonely child within him, assuring me he's a little okay.
"But it's okay now because I have all the power in the world!" He exclaimed, his eyes glimmering like on the day I saw him. That irked me.
"Yeah sure, whatever." I rolled my eyes.
He looked around the room and stopped his eyes at the table, pointing at the coffee cups.
"When did they keep this?" He asked me.
'Is he okay? What is he on? Didn't he keep it himself?'
I didn't bother to ask.
"Oh yeah, that's kind of them," I walked to the table and grabbed a cup. He followed.
I put the straw to my lips and started drinking the coffee, expecting a sugar rush. Instead, I was hit by a weird taste.
It was good coffee nonetheless, with bitter notes and the creamy milk, along with a sweet caramel ribbon, but there was a strange taste of spices like cinnamon, star anise and coriander seeds hit me, followed by a heat that gradually built up.
"Psshht!" I spat it all out, wiping my mouth with my hands to remove that cursed liquid.
"Ben" , I looked at him and slammed the coffee cup on the table." What the f*ck did you add to the coffee?!"
He looked at me confused as if I was the one mad here.
"I asked around and found out that you love chili oil, so-"
"So you added it to my coffee?" I completed his sentence.
"Yes."
The heat not only built up in my mind but also on my tongue. I could feel my temperature rising and my bloodlust was starting to emerge.
"What."
"How did you know I got it?!" He was flustered again.
"Is this a prank or something?"
"No...?" he said with a ironed face.
"I saw you keep the coffee on the table when I came," I answered. "But I simply don't get it. Why the chili oil?"
"Okay, this is crazy," his face went red. "I heard from people you were crazy about it so I thought to invent a new dish, just for you. It was my way of apologising, I really crossed some lines this time, I'm sorry."
Those words seemed to have an immediate effect. My anger melted a little and I could understand his perspective. Maybe he really was genuine? I could give him a chance.
"Okay, apology granted." I said as I walked out of the room. "I'm sorry too."
I ran to the washroom to wash my mouth and rinse out the spice, where I met Nelly, the new intern.
"He really got you this time, didn't he?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"We told him chili oil in a coffee is too cruel." She chuckled. "But he wanted to see your flustered face so bad." She walked away giggling, probably going to inform the others.
Yeah, he did it, again.