Defying Desires

Episode 6- Affinity

Episode Six- Affinity
Mia

It's been a week since I started working in Starvnos and I have already made a list of people I so desperately want to avoid.

Keith,

And Alan Starvnos.

You're probably wondering why and my reasons are quite simple.

I still wear my patched moccasin. I don't have the money to buy new shoes yet. And I'm very much aware I violated the rule. Which is why I avoid Alan Starvnos too. Work here is enjoyable to the fullest when you ignore the absurdity of me playing hide and seek. Today, Im to type three manuscripts. Most of them hold interesting stories. Most times I find myself reading the whole thing before typing. There're also few times, I rectify some errors. They're supposed to be edited but still contain a few mistakes here and there.

Jane and I also seem to get along fairly well. For starters, we have a lot in common. Other than our mutual interest in reading and working Starvnos, she also dropped out of college in sophomore year because she got pregnant. Her mother isn't of any help due to her alcoholism, so Jane had to start her whole life again. We fight life in every chapter of our story, but we hope to defeat the pain that comes with it. She hasn't reported to work yet. Not that she is late, I make it a habit of coming to work early to get seated before Keith arrives. And I also plan time intervals for every movement, all of which fit perfectly into not being hawked by Keith. So I am safe.

I get down to work, typing my manuscripts when the unexpected happens.

My stomach tickles and rambles. Not of hunger but of nature calling. My eyes scan to Keith's desk, and he is so engrossed in his work. I thank my lucky stars and jump up. I use a longer route, one that leads to a hallway before the washroom. Had I used the shorter path, also the one which we are required to use, Keith would have caught me so easily. After finishing my business and all the necessary specks linked with hygiene, I step out of the washroom and walk the hallway back to my desk.

"Mia."

I hear a voice speak. Just then, my moccasin decides to reveal more of its true colors. The insole, together with the outsole of one inconveniently strips off. My foot now makes direct contact with the floor. I groan pathetically in my head, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

"Mia." The voice comes again. I have already identified the person. Dragging my foot, I turn towards his direction.

"Mr. Starvnos!" I suck in a breath and revert my gaze.

"Are you okay?" He walks closer to me, his eyes checking up and down my appearance.

"Yes, I'm fine." I stand still like I have been nailed to the ground. One movement and my embarrassment will jump to first class.

"You know you're supposed to be in heels?" His eyes holds still on my ugly feet.

I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Saving myself from further humiliation, I nod in consent.

The corners of his mouth go up with a cute smile. "Mia, can I see you in my office?"

I don't know how to handle that statement, I think to myself. Am I going to get fired? I can't afford to lose this job; I just started working here.

"Yes, please," I whisper to my boss, waiting for him to disappear out of sight. I take off my shoes, carrying them by hand. There's no point in wearing them when they can't serve their purpose. I can feel eyes turning to gawk at me, and I'm sure most of them want to question or judge me. I'm so deep in thought that I can't focus on the vultures surrounding me.

I slump in my seat, but I still notice the vultures watching me, including Jane.

"Okay, what happened?" She asks.

I show the shoe to Jane, and an "oh" escapes from her mouth. "I think I'm about to get fired," I let out an exasperated sigh.

"Why?" She asks, a wave of shock in her voice. "You didn't insult Alan, did you?"

"No. He called me to his office. I can't go barefoot." I look at my shoe with disgust and grimace.

"You can wear mine." At the drop of a hat, she unhooks her heels and hands them over to me.

I let mine down, realizing she might refuse, and I wouldn't blame her because I would too. "Thank you so much," I say as I slip them on. There's a little bit of air at the end due to our foot size difference.

Then I stand up like a phoenix, very much aware that the entire workspace has seen what has transpired between me and Jane. Not fussed by the snickering and murmuring, I press the button on Mr. Starvnos' office and enter.

Mr. Starvnos has his head buried inside a magazine and doesn't see me enter. I clear my throat and his head throws up like a snake ready to pounce. His eyes settle on my face and I wonder what exactly he is thinking in his head. I avoid his gaze as I focus on the enchanting view outside.

"Sit down, Miss North," Tho lol e tone he uses makes my heart jump, but I stay cool. I won't let him see my panic. "How are you?"

A surprised wave of expression flushes across my face. One so conspicuous, I undoubtedly know he's seen. "I'm fine, sir," I say. "I'm sorry. It wasn't a deliberate act for me to bring these shoes. Keith told me I am supposed to report with heels, but right now I don't have any money, and my papa is sick..." I shut up abruptly, realizing I'm saying more than I shouldn't have

"Your father is sick?" He repeats.

Tears threaten to pour out of my eyes. "Yes," I say. I have no idea how that line came out of my mouth. In my moments of panic and frustration, I always turn into a blabbermouth.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He has rheumatoid arthritis." I gaze down at the floor. I don't like talking about my life. It has more bad than good.

"And your mom?" I look at him, and I can see the commiseration waft wildly in his eyes. He's compassionate, and his eyes proclaim it. He can be described as one of those people who can put themselves in other people's shoes for personality's sake, but can't really relate to it personally.

"She died four years ago."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"A kid brother." I clean my nose with the back of my hand.

There's a silence that suddenly reigns the room. It's so deafening and unbearable. I knew discussing my life would flummox us to this.

"And this is why you shouldn't fire me. I need this job to be able to finance my papa's healthcare."

"I wasn't going to fire you. I.... Never in a thousand years would I have thought you carried this lot on you. I'm speechless."

I smile at his words. I can't understand why, but they touch my heart. "Thank you."

"You're strong. You don't look like what you're going through. And I admire you for that," he says in a soft tone, one that makes my heart leap. "And I pray that you'll sail through this."

"I really appreciate it. Thank you so much, Alan," I finally have the urge to call him by his first name. Speaking to him, speaking to someone sure lifts some weight off my shoulders. I feel lightweight now, somehow.

I'm thankful for my shoe turning out this way. Even though it gave me a fright in the beginning, it actually led to a good ending.

I leave his office an hour later. We engage in more friendly conversations. Majority of which are uncomfortable talk because they're related to me. His never-ending questions make my head throb. Nevertheless, I feel elated, and my admiration for him has increased.

I shut his door quietly behind me. I spin in the direction of my desk and find everyone's eyes on me.

What did I do?