Perfect II: The Art Of Living

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

His work seemed to be the interlude and checking out a Becky-with-a-gun scenario had been his main activity. He had been eyeing the glass that overlooked the halls to Mr Rosa’s chambers. He would agitatedly peek out of his cubicle and look but for the five hours he had been doing the practice, a Becky-with-a-gun nor a simple Becky was out of sight.

              Time for lunch. Ethan hesitated leaving his post. He sat there and calmed himself down. The amiable scent of cappuccino before him helped. He watched his purple dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans crumple in nervousness. Ethan stood and at the moment his head sprouted from the landscape of gray lines, Becky was striding down the aisle.

              Ethan rushed and tripped. However, he quickly got up and trotted outside. Having a spectacle be overlooked by the whole Literary Station, Ethan dragged her into a curve where he could confront her. Becky seemed lost. Her face seemed unaware. Her face was pure anger. She stared at him like he was a transparent. She superhumanly pushed him away as he tried blocking her.

              “Becky, you don’t understand! I hope you’re happy!”

              “I hope you’re happy too! That you’ll let everybody crush you to bits to the ground. Well I am not you,” Becky countered and continued to walk.

              Ironically, the door beneath the rose sign opened in a classy click. Ethan quickly took his poise back and stood stiffly behind Becky. Becky was flabbergasted. She was silent. Mr Rosa was staring back at her, intently. He was examining her. He was observing each movement Becky made with her twitching palms. Ethan swallowed.

              “Belle,” Mr Rosa cried and entirely lost his image of an audacious CEO. “Be—”

              Ethan gasped. Mr Rosa’s wry cry halted in a whimper from Becky’s spicy slap.

              “I’m sorry,” Mr Rosa cried. “I’m sorry,” he begged and knelt down.

              It almost seemed cartoonish or melodramatic. Mr Rosa’s tears were abrupt. Ethan wanted to flee but his feet held him in place and as if Becky and Mr Rosa were both ignoring his presence. Ethan inhaled to keep him from collapsing.

              “Have you known that my mama, a stripper, is better than you?” she scoffed. “You are the shittiest person ever,” she frankly said. “Why of all places, you’d leave me in front of a fucking sex bar?” she scoffed again. “Well well well. I should be thankful because you did not scar me for life! You gave me to a wonderful person who never lifted a finger on me.”

              “I left you there because your mother promised to take you.”

              Becky laughed, ridiculed. “My goddamned dead mother?” she joked. “Well fuck you because she died that night too!”

              Mr Rosa pleaded. His kneel turned to a desperate crawl. He bowed and repeatedly asked sorry, “Gomenasai… gomenasai… gomen… nasai…” his voice trailed off into a repentant lament.

              Becky lifted her boot and aimed to kick Mr Rosa. Ethan hesitated to help and before he could stride and defy himself, Becky already landed the tip of her boot on Mr Rosa’s forehead.

              “Sama!” Ethan called and shielded him. “Becky, enough! You have hurt him and this is enough!” he mustered to say. “Can you hold still? I will call the medic,” Ethan requested and glared back again at Becky.