He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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I sank into the chair and spun it to face the screen. As I did, I heard Kelly disappear behind me, her steps retreating down the stairs in a drumroll of echoes.
As I opened the video folder, I watched Amber look up hastily, stashing her phone in her pocket as Kelly came towards her. It was like watching one of those old black and white movies, except this one was less about grand romantic gestures, and more about mundane things like a textaholic and her boss.
I wondered how many moments like that were captured on the video files stacked neatly in the weekly folders. Each one held unique snapshots of our lives that had been candidly captured on film but never seen. Kelly never looked through the videos, and most of the time she just asked one of us to go through and delete the files from the system once it ran out of space. I imagined most bosses would use the CCTV to keep an eye on their staff, making sure no one was dipping into the register or taking more breaks than they should, but Kelly didn't. She used it to look out for us. If she wasn't down in the bar with us, she would keep an eye upstairs in case we needed her.
Like the day I fainted. She would have seen everything unfold from up here. From the moment I dropped the glass, to the instant my body started to tumble to the ground. Any other boss may have missed it, too engrossed in calculating their weekly earnings, but not Kelly. She always had been, and always would be, our guardian angel. There when we needed her and looking out for us when we thought we didn't.
As I thought of the day I fainted, I remembered the way Book Boy had caught me just in time. It had seemed impossible in the moment, but in the days that had past, I'd convinced myself that time had just been distorted by the migraine and loss of consciousness.
Now I sat with the weekly video folder in front of me, I realised I didn't have to rely on memories. I could look at the evidence, see it all play out in black and white.
My index finger twitched against the mouse. It wasn't against the rules to watch the videos, but I still felt almost voyeuristic at the prospect of doing it. Perhaps it was because I knew the others never watched the videos, and by watching them myself I was somehow breaking some unwritten code we all worked by.
It was possible, but in reality, I knew the pounding in my chest was a result of more than a breach of social etiquette or workplace camaraderie. It was because once I saw what was on the videos, it was real, whatever it was.
I chewed my lip for a moment as the mouse hovered over the folder I needed. I could just delete it and put the mystery of Book Boy to bed, finally.
But I had never been very good at ignoring the unknown or leaving that itch of curiosity unscratched.
Before I could dwell on my decision, I opened up the video file. I scanned through the hours of footage until I saw myself enter the bar. Book Boy stayed outside, talking on his phone while I disappeared from view. Soon, I reappeared without my coat, settling into work behind the bar as Callum manned the cash register.
