Broken Lives On

Broken lives on 8

"You're a disaster," Gibb said, sounding tired as he slapped his forehead. "Coffee is supposed to be in your cup, not your shirt," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose.

This guy was a pain in the ass. Despite not being late, he still looked for issues in the deep. "Can't you do anything right? Everything you do just makes things worse. You're a total..." I had heard enough, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Fuck...I know, okay? I know...you don't have to point it out," I snapped, and he fell silent. The whole kitchen fell strangely quiet, and you could hear a pin drop.

I looked around and saw that everyone was staring at us, mouths wide open. I had come too far to stop now; I might as well keep going. "I get it, okay? I understand that you'll never like me, but you don't have to treat me like garbage. I try my best, I've been working really hard. I don't need you constantly highlighting my mistakes," I whispered, feeling my anger dissipating as reality sank in.

I had spoken to Gibb in a way that no one else dared to.

I stared at the floor, waiting for the worst, expecting to hear him shout, "YOU'RE FIRED!"

Instead, he cleared his throat and calmly said, "There's a spare uniform in the old lockers. Go change, you'll be on dish duty for the next two weeks." I sighed heavily at my luck as I watched him walk away and as he commanded everyone back to work.

A few people continued to stare as I made my way to the lockers as instructed.

I felt strange as I headed towards the old staff lunchroom. Maybe it was because of the way I had spoken to Gibb. I had never done that before, and now I was overwhelmed with regret as I realized I would be stuck on dish duty. That meant staying late and cleaning up.

It felt like detention, but somewhere inside me, I had a familiar feeling. I couldn't quite explain it, but it was there.

Blaze P.O.V

I quickly turned the doorknob and entered the office. As soon as I walked in, heads turned to me. I tucked my hands into my pockets as I walked towards the big black table.

The office was very large and mostly black in color. I sat down next to Damien as I slouched lazily in the chair. "You're late," my dad said coldly, as always. His voice never seemed to change.

"Sorry, captain, I'm here now," I saluted dramatically and extended my legs under the table.

Damien spoke up, "You know....you can make up for it if you at least sit like you're in a meeting."

Dad corrected him, "business meeting."

I breathed heavily as I sat up. "Oh sorry, I keep forgetting that's all there is to meeting you guys. Business after business," I shrugged and looked at Damien, who had his eyes squinted at me.

"Well, do you consider that some of us have better things to live for?" Damien said with a tight smile, looking at our dad.

"Oh, I hadn't considered," I said, directing my statement to Damien but looking at our dad.

Dad cleared his throat, fixed his already neat suit, and stood up from his grand chair. He put his hands in his pocket and walked to the large sealed glass window overlooking the city.

It was a great view, in my opinion, since it had the perfect angle. But it wasn't the best place for me to be. I would rather be downstairs in the lobby than in here, especially with these two.

"As you know, I have a meeting in Hong Kong with Capital Growth Advisers. I can't miss it," he said, facing the other direction.

"They assist clients manage their wealth, diversify their portfolios, and plan investments. Why do you have a meeting with them?" I asked, confused about why he would want their help.