Neighbors | sm + cc

Twenty Two

Heyy Recap: Camila and Shawn discussed Camila's work and how it affects their relationship

Camila ~
Walking into work, a sense of courageousness rushed through me like adrenaline. I am perfectly capable of being able to work less, I assured myself as I walked into my boss' office. Nothing like a little independence for myself.

Sitting quietly at his desk, Mr. Buffet's head tilts in my direction as a public acknowledgement of my existence. I swallowed my fear and asked for a small moment of his time to discuss serious matters. I'm unsure of whether it was my anxiousness of stepping up to the man or just trying to be more independent than usual, but a chill ran down my spine.

"Mr. Buffet," I began, I knew this would be the start of something great,"my desire to write has only grown since moving here, and I couldn't have asked for a better company to work for, but the hours of work I put into this company is a large weight on my shoulder that I can no longer carry." His eyebrows lift as I nervously continue. "I was hoping--" I stopped myself from saying an 'I hope' sentence. This, right here, right now, is something I will get, not hope to get. "I need less story assignments."

"Hun," he spoke with authority," you are a highly valued employee and It would be quite the price to pay for having you write less. You are also a full time journalist, not part time. Part time journalists get less pay, less stories that work into the papers and website, and less confidence in their work. Last time I checked you are one of the best writers here. Do you really want to risk that for less work?"

"Yes sir," I responded," I'll take less money and less stories hitting the front page. I am only one person and I need to put more focus onto my well-being, with respect sir." I nervously licked my lips unsure of his next move.

"I'm sorry, I won't let you. The more stories you put out, the more the company receives. Trust me, this is the best and only option for you and I."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I need less stories to write."

"Sweetie, you--"

"Don't call me 'Sweetie' or 'Hun.' You never call me by name, you know. Is this the respect I deserve after being one of this company's 'best writers?' I've never seen you call any of my male colleagues those name. Now, will I be receiving less stories or not?" It was probably the feminist in me, but my tolerance of him not giving me the respect I deserve has expired. Hell, this isn't even what I came here to discuss, but my I might as well bring it up while I'm here.

"What part of 'no' do you not understand, Hun?"

A long exhale escaped my lips as I spoke for the last time to him," I quit."