Revolt

12. Survivor's Will

“That’s what defines ‘Survivor’: It’s the ultimate test of who you are.” - John Morrison.

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Anjola glanced at the large digital clock, on the ceiling above her desk—just to ensure she was keeping correct track of time, as her wristwatch could be off course. It was the noon of Wednesday, and she was preparing herself mentally for the looming, novelty of a task she was to embark on with the rest of her team.

A school was visiting the company, for an intellectual edifying excursion and the students were to be taken on a tour through the company grounds, to the vital, fundamental departments of which the company’s operations mostly thrived on. The accounting department of course, belonged to said departments and her team was tasked by Delano, to be the one to host the interactive session because—according to him—they were the warmest, and most good-looking staffers in the department.

It was imperative to present a dashing, affable image as it would go a long way in seducing the students and even entice them, into aspiring to be employees of the establishment, if possible. While Anjola thought that was quite farfetched, she couldn’t exactly rule the instance out. Many decades back, while she was in elementary school also, her school had paid a visit to a premium bank and she had been nothing but awestruck with the breathtaking, exquisite interior of the bank and it’s prim, dapper looking employees.

Although as she grew older, and maturity set in—her impulsive, impetuous fantasies faded away and got replaced with more practical ones. But the experience hadn’t been toxic or unhealthy for her, and she guessed there were a handful of her mates, that actually went on that path.

“Can you stop making noise with your furious pacing?” Ehize’s growl jolted her out of her reverie, and she wheeled her chair round to assess the reason behind his complaint. It was Adaure, in the center of the room—sashaying back and forth, from one end of the room to another with her hands propped on her waist. Her friend’s Louboutins were making a clacking, noise as its sole kissed the marble tiles. It wasn’t exactly loud, but it sure did have the perchance to irritate.

“If you’re nervous and you want to pace so bad, remove your shoes and walk around the room. Or better still, work really hard and pray to God for an unusual promotion into an executive role that would give you your own office, where you can play loud music if you want. But until then, you’d keep in mind that you’re sharing an office with two other people. Thank you very much.” Ehize added.

Adaure heaved a sigh of exasperation, and tucked her hands into the outer pockets of her white, double breasted overcoat—that she wore over a floral midi dress—and faced Ehize, who now had his back turned to her. “A considerate friend would first of all, go on and ask if there was something wrong with me, before going on to scold me like a child. No empathy in this world again.”

“So because something is bothering you, you have the right to disturb everyone’s peace huh?” Ehize said over his back, without turning. He was working on a spreadsheet document on his computer, and computing certain figures. “By that standard, I should have called you every midnight I watched a Game Of Thrones episode, and express my dismay at certain heartbreaking deaths that happened, without minding if you’re deep in sleep or not. Doesn’t matter, as long as something is bothering me.”

“Ugh! Must you turn everything over on its head? And it’s not like you’re sleeping anyway.”

“Yes, more reason for you not to disturb, because I’m actually busy.” He wheeled his chair around, and threw his hands into the air. “If something is bothering, talk okay? If you bother us, then we’d all have something bothering us and that doesn’t exactly make the situation any better.”