They said, some people feel rain, others just get drenched. I was amongst the ones that simply got drenched since not everyone had the time to feel the rains. Not everyone was so jolly that they could skip down the stairs, pull open their hair and then dance under the waters like they were the female leads from nineties.
Some people that got drenched, like me, had things to get to. I didn't have time to jump across puddles like frogs and laugh everytime I saw a paper boat floating in the mud. All I had the time to do was tie up my hair and get running because if I even stood under the rains for a second to feel it, I'd fall. And I couldn't afford falling or even being slowed down. Because again, if I did, I'd fail.
Taking a long breath, I stepped out of my apartment and closed the door behind me, eliciting a groan of protest from the door. Another thing I hated about rains, things just got so stuck that they'd either need to be destroyed or just given up on. And no, there was no pun intended because I had been trying to repair my door for so long-around two weeks-and yet it didn't close well because the moisture had it rusting.
Groan after groan, I pulled the door with all strength I had in the moment, dropping my bag and umbrella down in the process, and the door budged slightly. Inhaling another deep breath, I gripped the door handle even tighter and inhaled another sharp breath while pulling the door to its frame as it made a click sound of the affirmation I needed of it being locked.
Sweat dripping down my forehead, I bent to pick my purse and umbrella and hurried out of my building, sighing in relief as I saw the cab I'd called parked right infront of the gate.
Getting in the cab, I greeted the driver and gave him the address of my workplace-soon to be atleast-if I passed the interview. Rains, dear heavens, were so annoying yet I pitied them sometimes.
They had no say in when they desired to fall. Or how much of it wanted to be wasted on human lands who didn't give a shit of them. Or for how long they had to continue their pitter-ing patter-ing. Because it was the stupid clouds that decided it. Clouds, as their fairy God mother, deemed it right to loosen its drops once it'd realised they'd started getting heavier and kept releasing it until they themselves felt better. But what about the raindrops? What if they didn't want to fall? What if they wanted to stay in solitude inside the clouds? No one cared.
Just like my parents never cared. Vienna turned eighteen, time for her to get out of the house. Vienna turned twenty-one, time for her to put her studies to test and get her first real job. Vienna worked at the same place for two years and yet hasn't been able to get out of her crap apartment? Well too bad but time for her to get to a new job. I had hardly been twenty-four when I had gotten into a job where my boss fell in love with me and I had to leave my job again because I didn't fancy his feelings. And even now, with me being twenty-five, just like the raindrops, I had no say in anything against my parents who set another interview for me at another office.
Awful. That was what I was. Because I had no courage in telling my parents that I didn't want to keep changing jobs and even if I did, I wanted one of my own choice. That was why I despised raindrops. They reminded me too much of my own weak self and it made me want to crumble. Crumble and cry until—
I think my phone buzzed.
Brushing the tears from the corner of my eyes, I adjusted my blurred vision and whisked my phone out of my purse. Dad, it read so I cleared my throat and picked it up, my gaze still lingering on the small kids dancing and goofing around by the footpath, enjoying the rains. And then, out of nowhere, it felt weird comparing myself to rain when all I did was disappoint the ones around me but the rain managed to cheer most of them.
"Hey sweetie," my father greeted me, his voice so soft and gentle, I almost misunderstood his own selfish desires to have me work at a huge company for care.
I toned down on a sniffle and attempted to smile even though I knew he couldn't see me as I said back, "Hey dad. How are you?"
The sounds from the other side rustled and I understood immediately he was walking to my mother and then his voice boomed, "I'm good. Your mother is too. We just called you to wish you luck for your interview, alright?"
I nodded, too bored and tired already of their fake sweetness as I beamed too, "I will do better this time. Thank you."
"And darling this time if," my mother said giggling and I could already apprehend what she would say but I let her continue, "your boss falls in love with you, just marry him. You're not getting any younger and we don't have many connections to get you a job everytime someone falls for you and you get all weird-y instead of just running into their arms." Venom, so much venom, I realised, laced my mother's voice just because I was incapable-unable-to fall in love with a man as rich and handsome— their words, not mine— as my previous boss.
"I'll not fail you, mom and dad. Take care," I said into the speaker not bothering to answer any of her previous taunts and then ended the call without waiting for their reply. I couldn't feel shitty because my interview was not even thirty minutes away and getting stuck in traffic was bad enough already.
The honks and loud shouts from people in the traffic behind us started getting closer and even louder, the feet splashed waters as people got out of their cars and started walking down the narrow paths, some desperate to get to work and some annoyed to having to work in such terrible rain.
Cringing, I checked my watch again and realised I only had twenty minutes to get to the address my father sent me a week ago and panicked. According to my calculations, if I kept sitting in this cab and the traffic subsided— which I didn't think was possible for another hour atleast— then I was in trouble. However, if I got down this road, it'd take me around seven minutes to walk to the place on a regular day but on a day as garbage as today, it would take me maximum fifteen minutes to walk through people while also avoiding rains and puddles, unless I got myself into some mess.
I hoped and prayed to the dear almighty to just be on my side for a day and paid the driver a couple bucks before pulling my umbrella and got out of the car. I shivered at the onslaught of profanities that enlightened me the moment I stepped onto the footpath but kept walking anyways.
Endeavouring to dodge the multiple puddles, I held my purse higher on my shoulder and tucked my hair into a bun again, not trusting them to remain the way I'd combed them in the morning under such harsh rain anyway.
To hell with luck but just as I was about to jump around another puddle, a huge umbrella came crashing into me and I was being thrown downwards into the water. I didn't even have the time to gasp before I felt the thud so loud, so exasperating in my ears that all I wanted to do was cry and cry for being such a failure. I couldn't even walk properly, much less balance myself when everyone in this cluster was doing it just fine.
I sat there, hopeless, angry, frustrated and disappointed in myself. Self-loathing was what people called this, and they said it was bad to hate yourself. That one must love themselves but was it even possible to love yourself when all you'd done was be pitiful and walked on your parents' path all life hating them for being selfish because in a way, I had been too.
I had never looked for anything other than what my parents told me to do because it felt easy. It felt easy not having to run around like others and not having the dreams of being independent when I knew my parents had my back even if it were for their own self.
God I had never hated myself so much anytime than I did in this moment and I wanted to get rid of that hate so bad, so bad—
"Hey, excuse me maam." Sweet, sweet voice, so tender yet husky, it reverberated all the way down to my toes and my eyes widened. I looked up immediately at the source of the voice and I felt myself dig into the ground even more. "Are you alright?"
I didn't think I was but I nodded. The red creeped upto my neck, my cheeks and I felt hot. This man wore a three-piece suit, a blue tie tucked under his black vest and around the collar of his white— so white, it blinded me— undershirt. His black jacket fitted him so well, it was impossible to not notice his svelte waist and then the toned biceps flexing as he plucked one of his hands from his pant's pockets and stretched it towards me.
I blinked, staring at his outstretched arm but he said nothing and nudged it in my direction, gesturing me to take his arm. I stiffened looking down at my own hands and aggressively shook my head. "I can't— my palms, they're—" dirty and I don't intend on ruining that perfect cuff of yours, I wanted to tell him but he was already bending down and in a second his palm was wrapped around my elbow and his other palm was coiled around my fingers, hauling me up.
It all happened so quickly I didn't realise we were still in the middle of the road— footpath—and rain was dripping harder than ever but both his arms were on me and he wasn't wearing a raincoat yet he wasn't getting any wet-how? And then another pair of arms was bending besides me, gathering my purse and my umbrella and then nudging it to me.
I blinked so fast, it made my head dizzy. And for the first time in a while, I lifted my gaze to his face, absentmindedly taking back my stuff from whoever had collected it for me.
This man— the one that pushed me and helped me too— was wearing a black mask so only his eyes were visible. His orbs were so blue, the last I had seen something that blue was an ocean. His black hair was jelled back, his forehead on display and all I wanted to do was run my hand through his locks to see if they'd feel just as soft as I believed them to be. A dangling earring, with a diamond stud hung onto his right ear and I felt him smile under his mask.
"That's my driver, Josh," he nodded to the guy who was standing behind him and I also realised he was holding an umbrella above this blue eyes' face all this time as he continued, "He can drop you off wherever you were heading to as an apology for ruining your clothes and your belongings. I hope you're not too late for being wherever you were supposed to."
As he said it, as in impulse, I checked the time on my wrist watch and almost doubled over. I hardly had ten minutes in my hands and the traffic was so bad, I didn't even have the time to contemplate his offer before I shook my head, held the umbrella above my head, pulled my purse higher over my shoulder and ran through the puddles, pushed through the people, earned wicked curses I'd never even heard of, got a little too wet, destroyed my hair, my makeup but it was worth it in the end when I stood in front of the huge building, failing to see its top floor even after craning my neck all the way to my back.
||
The receptionist— a kind lady, probably in her early twenties— told me that her boss, who was to take my interview, hadn't yet arrived and I had around fifteen minutes to retouch my appearance. She was also kind enough to find me a hairdryer from somewhere and also lent me some of her makeup suggesting me to get presentable as fast I could.
Rushing into the restroom at the end of the hall, I washed of my hands and my elbows, the muddy sand instantly diminishing. I quickly dried my hair while also applying kohl and a light touch of her pink lipstick matte, cleared out the wrinkles on my white off-shoulder blouse, adjusted my black skinny fit jeans, rehearsed walking on the unusually high heeled shoes that I had carried in my bag and had quickly replaced my pink sneakers that I'd worn from home to them.
Loosening a breath, I ran a hand over my semi-wet hair, straightened them out and smiled at myself through the mirror before finally stepping out of the ladies' room.
||
Fifteen minutes later, I stood infront of Mr. Archer's office, the CEO of Archer and Co., ready to be interviewed. Lily, the receptionist, guided me to his office that was ridiculously high— nineteenth? or was it twentieth floor?—and wished me luck.
So, with my arms shivering from cold, I knocked twice on the wooden door so polished, I almost envied someone having a better door than mine but then quickly felt ridiculous about being jealous of a door so I dismissed the thought and straightened.
The door knob twisted and a huge, very familiar figure towered me. He offered me a small smile and then slipped out of the office, nodding at me to go inside. I bobbed my chin and stepped inside, my heart stilling at the stunning visuals of this office.
The walls were painted a darker shade of cream, all even with no smudges anywhere. A huge ceiling to floor window reigned one side of the wall and just a few steps away from it was a brown-cream marbled desk with a laptop and a couple files sitting on it. A black, rotating chair behind the desk and two guest chairs infront of the desk completed that side of the wall.
On the wall opposite to the where the cabin door was, there stood a huge cabinet-like a library-filled with tons of books that looked like novels and journals from where I stood along with files and certificates and medal. It all looked so opulent and like a dream office, I stumbled a step back.
Against the window, on its opposite wall, a brown couch sofa existed and a tall, standing lamp right besides it. If it was only for show or whether the lamp worked or not, I had no idea. Right as the couch ended, there was a huge door, a replica of the one I entered from, that seemed to open inwards but whatever content it had on its inside, the simple door managed to conceal it.
I admired the cleanliness of the office in awe. It smelt fresh lilies and roses all in a garden and then they were intercepted with the smell of rains and lemon detergent-or was it the lemon soap? A throat cleared and I launched at the sound behind of me so fast, I fell on my knees.
"Oh no, I didn't mean to-" That voice. The heat ran to my cheeks as that husky voice rang in my toes again and I turned around, still on my knees, only to be met with the same pair of blue eyes as deep as an ocean but the only thing different was that there was no mask.
I thought God stopped making such faces decades ago. He didn't?
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PS : the first quote does not belong to me. I read it somewhere and it has stuck with me so far.
thanks for reading<3
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