Never Ending

~1~

New York News Channel's headquarters looms ahead, its opulent glass facade reflecting the golden sunlight, making it glow if you look from the right angle. I rub shoulders with the throngs going home from work.

I walk in with a determined gait, the citrusy smell of soap a fresh reminder of the warm bath I couldn't quite enjoy because I'd be late. I catch the elevator to the eighth floor. The moment the elevator door opens, Donald, the chief editor, catches up to my stride, and hands me the latest news. I falter in my step a moment, unable to process how on earth I am to deliver such horrendous news to the American population.

"It's happening, isn't it?" I ask.

With a remorseful look, Donald replies, "I am afraid so." For a man with a lot to lose: family, estates, a business he worked so hard to grow, he is unnaturally calm. Inside my mind, turmoil begins. Worry, remorse and fear lace together, destabilizing my calm and collected front.

"Tara you're on in two minutes." Jack, the cameraman, calls to me in passing, reminding me of my duties. Two deep breaths, and I am back on track, removing my jacket and getting into the studio to start rolling.

The news begins as usual, even though this may be the last time I get to sit in front of the camera.

"NASA has confirmed after many days of study and intensive observation that an asteroid, monikered Loretta 1009, is headed towards earth. It is predicted that it will enter into the atmosphere at around 3:00am. Total destruction of the earth will be inevitable due to the grandeur and speed with which it has been observed to possess. Previous attempts to divert it in the past three months have been unsuccessful leading to this earth shattering announcement." I take a pause, like every great showwoman, and let the news sink in. For a moment, I snap out of my reporter's voice and address the audience personally, "I hope you make these final hours count. And most of all, let your loved ones know you care about them and you were happy to spend every second of your life in their presence." I hear a sniffle from somewhere behind the cameras.

I snap back into my reporter voice. "The President is coming live from the White House to give a final adress." I say before the cameras stop rolling and I descend the stairs into the main area. An atmosphere of hugs and forlorn emotion overtakes us. I can see a few women at the back shedding tears.

It's so hard to die, at such an age, when human kind was on a steep rise towards significant technological development, when our dream of going to Mars was no longer a dream but a plausible concept- who am I kidding? I care about none of those things, but that doesn't make it any less devastating.

From the left and right, arms engulf me, one after the other pronouncing how it was an honor, a pleasure, good, among other choice adjectives, to spend time with me. At the back of my mind, I know that this is just an effect of having a deadline plastered onto our existence, and people who otherwise despised me, or merely tolerated me- there are many of those- are now explicitly expressing affection towards me.

Numbness takes over, I am not moved to reciprocate the rampant flood of insincere love, but rather I push my way to the door so that I can go find solace. And an outlet for the terror and anguish creeping into me. As I am stepping out of the room making a beeline for the elevator, Donald stops me. "Stay strong, dear. We're gonna be fine." He makes a move to hug me, but even in my fright-induced trance, I flinch away.

He raises his hands, a sign for surrender. His lips form into one of those smiles that I've come to disqualify as fatherly, but rather are a likelihood to the flick of a snake's tongue before it pounces to gobble you up like prey.

I shove my way past him and take the elevator to the first floor. I make my way into the throngs of people going home, with the knowledge that by tomorrow none of us will be. I take comfort in the sameness of our fate and let myself be propelled by the crowd, to wherever it'll lead me.

In the crowd, there are those like me, who are drifting by like dry leaves, reluctant to perish but with no power to change the circumstances, others are like a frail, scared-eyed woman I run into, who are racing to their homes and will, undoubtedly, in good faith, lie to their children telling them that nothing is wrong.

"Hey." I stumble a few steps after bumping headlong into a person. The briefcase he was holding falls, spilling a multitude of papers, I crouch and pick them up in bunches. I stand back upright, and hand the papers over as I look up into the face of their proprietor.

"Calix?" I am shocked to meet him here, now of all times. His previous annoyance morphs into surprise when he recognizes me. I hate myself for calling him by that name. His name is Carter Felix Lozano, I remind myself, the 'Calix' days are long over, I think bitterly. "Sorry, Carter."

"Hi." He says giving me a piercing look, the only indication that he acknowledged my mishap. "It's been long." He pronounces in that low timbre, his words very purposeful and every motion, unintentionally, provoking.

"Yeah." I answer affected. Around us, the murmur of people gradually gets louder. Panic spreads like a disease. I am shoved from both sides. Carter shifts his body acting like a shield against the throngs.

I try to pay him no mind. He would have done this for anyone, I tell myself.

"Do you want a drink?" He asks.

No. My conscience says. I would never forgive myself if I was to be wooed by his inexorable charm. Just the sight of him should be painful, after how badly he hurt me.

But still- we are going to die, and I'd rather die with free beer than without, don't you agree? "Sure. Lead the way." He nods briefly and follows the direction I had been taking.

I recognize the neon sign, two shops down the road. It was on our second date, in this very bar that I realized that I loved Carter, and I would pay dearly for it.