Everest

Chapter IV: To hurt or not to hurt, that is the question.



A/N: So here is the last excerpt from Chapter Three to refreshen your memory!





M I K A  J A C K S O N 

My body shivers from the muscled figure towering above me, Nicholas. He gives me his hand to get up, and I take it. However, the second I do he leaves, causing me to stumble down on my own. Thank God everyone is busy in their own gossip because I don't know how I would react in front of a massive crowd. His act was purely intentional, but his face whatsoever doesn't show that. "Oh, I am so sorry! I thought you were fast enough to get up on your own" he acts as if apologizing would turn back time and change it. Well, it doesn't.

He is probably mad at me for me missing his comms, but can he blame me? I even replied later on informing him about my medical condition. But since he is so naive, I will be the greater person and offer the apology first. "I am even sorrier, I couldn't meet up the other day because I was in a medical condition, otherwise I never break my plans" I smile genuinely, and my eyes even offer sentiment.

He looks a bit startled. He probably didn't expect it. "You know what? Let's just leave it and get heading towards our training," I gasp, covering my mouth in shock.

Last Night 

I shake so hard, I might as well cause an earthquake. Despite this, I stand straight, as tall as a lamp post and trying to stiffen against the table. It's my first time here, and I am getting a job. Despite it all, I have to do this. I am tired of not being able to afford anything, and I am tired of begging. 

The manager so-called "Ruff" is interrogating me on things even I haven't questioned myself on. "When do you usually eat lunch?"

"Have you ever had brunch at El Loco?"

"Is your liquor tolerance high?"

"Have you ever run away from home?"

"Yes", "No", "Maybe", "I didn't think about that yet". I answer and I continue to answer. I am starting to get bored of answering such weird and meaningless questions. I look North, South, East and West. My eyes stay on West. At West, I see a woman in her late 20's rushing out in her clattering high heels and her tight fitted yet modest black knee-length dress. She looks, infuriated. 

Behind her, a man who must be around my age walks out looking drunk. He looks traumatized, his hands running all over his shaggy golden brown hair and his grey eyes looking tired. It was the guy who offered me help. Whatever his name was, he deserved an apology from me. I couldn't show up on time on our appointment and it was very rude of me. I try to escape Ruff's husky Russian interrogative voice, but its hard. 

I suddenly feel the president's eyes on our conversation, so I try to look the part. I quickly brush my rough hair with my fingers, accidentally making Ruff flirtatious. Crap. 

I get a bit away from Ruff, yet he closes up on me. I find myself hyperventilating, trying to get away from his aura. People eye on me curiously, but Ruff's gaze lingers on me the most. He hands me my ID card. Trembling, I take it from his hands. The second I take it away from him, his hands' cup mine, his smile as sly as ever. My shivering increases and I pull away. Maybe this is how things work over here, so I have to get away from the mindset of a ten-year-old and play along. I put on the ID card around me and get ready to serve. I head towards the helping guy at school, and by the time I reach, he has probably drunk 5 glasses of beer.