Jovie Everhart shifted. The smell of musty wood was crawling up her nose, forcing its way in like a wiggly worm, now scrunched up in discomfort. Moreover, her life had certainly not been the best in the past few minutes. Firstly, Ezra. Secondly, Mr. Will Garcia is now standing in front of her, his mere presence dimming the already dim atmosphere of the chilly office. His looked down as his chocolate-brown eyes penetrated Jovie's.
"So you've been...failing to make a full delivery, I've heard."
"...um, yeah."
She shifted, hoping to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Her heart was itching for the taste of the outside world, and she silently prayed that the sky wasn't raining again. Or better yet, could it rain on Ezra? Could she even do that?
"We're all fully aware that you've done that more than once, all in the same fashion."
We're? Ouch. lamented Jovie, tapping her feet impatiently. She frowned, watching the gold-plated clock on the desk tick by torturingly slow. Tick, tock. Tick, tock......
"Let's delve deeper into the reason, shall we? The most basic morals suggest that learning from your mistakes is of paramount importance to your own future."
You're not my dad.
Jovie ran her fingers through her hair as she winced and took a step back. But she stopped herself. Don't be a coward. Don't be a coward. This isn't Ezra.
"I believe you know your reasons for your multiple failures, don't you?" Mr Garcia eyes pierced into Jovie like a sharp dagger.
"I..." she looked down. This will be over, and I will survive. "Maybe I should work harder?"
She meekly tilted her head up to meet Mr Garcia's gaze.
He slammed his fist onto the table and let out a single, defeated sigh.
"It always seems to be related to weather..." he muttered.
Jovie Everhart plunged back to reality with a jolt, as the cold sense of dread ran through her legs, causing her to back away. Had they figured it out?
Millions of visions flashed through her head, as if a wet towel had been draped over it. Magic was a bad thing. It meant madness. It meant agony. It meant the loss of control over your own body as raw unbridled power consumed you.
And it also meant Metanoia—the place magicians were contained, so she'd heard.
She muttered something sensible. "I—uh—uuuuuhmmm—"
"It's strange, isn't it? It didn't seem to have been raining when Mr. Arable received his order..."
Jovie Everhart's expression turned into one of panic. Gosh, she thought she had gotten away with it. Ezra had somehow caught on to her, but even Will? They really had her in the ropes...
"—oh... oh no," she rasped. Her throat tightened up with the lump forming inside her.
"And is it true that this was not the first time something like this has happened?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow.
"I guess." Well, that was vague. But being vague, somehow, could get you out of trouble.
"I don't believe in coincidences, Jovie. But I do believe in you—"
Does that mean this is finally over? "-thank you Mr. Garcia-" she interrupted but quickly snapped her mouth shut seeing Will's expression.
"I do believe that it has something to do with...how do I say this? Some...supernatural force, perhaps? Maybe even magic?"
Jovie's racing heart came to a halt. Did she just hear magic, the word that has struck fear in every person–no, every nation's heart in this dying world? This world had always despised magic. for magic meant unsafe. Here, in this very office, they wanted safe.
"Uh, no, Mr. Garcia, I can explain—" Please, Mr. Garcia. Magic is just propaganda. Everything is these days.
"I'm sorry, but company protocol obliges me to tell you that—"
Her world turned into a blur. The golden chandelier that hung from the small coked-up workspace didn't catch her eye. Nor did the weirdly white walls, which reminded her of the mental asylum.
Mr. Garcia's words were barely audible, and what was screaming through her eardrums were one simple, seemingly trivial fact.
She was about to be contained.
Will noticed that she had zoned out. "Ms. Everhart, know that the use of magic is strictly forbidden in our company, as not only does it bring danger to our customers, it is also illegal."
Illegal. That word did the trick.
There was a long moment of silence. Jovie knew that she had to respond, but somehow, no words seemed to be able to escape her closed-up throat. Was it denial ? Denial, which was a classic among those that had gone mad, those that had used magic. And she couldn't be contained. She was a lethal wildfire now. But there was no turning back. She had to do something.
"Mr. Garcia, with all due respect, I have full control of my magic and haven't caused any serious damage to the company—"
"No. I deeply apologize, but no."
Mr Garcia held his smile, but this time, Jovie just wanted to slap it out of his face. It had no hope—pure cynicism.
"I really, really can explain—"
"NO." Jovie snapped her mouth shut.
"It is a simple, fundamental thing that magic brings nothing but carnage. For these reasons, as the manager of this service, I simply must not risk the safety of our customers."
"Yeah right, you simply must not risk the reputation of the company.—" retorted Jovie, finally mustering up the courage to do so.
Will cut her off. "Look. Jovanna Everhart, listen. I want you out, out of this workplace."
She regretted talking back to her boss.
Jovie's world spiraled into ruins. There was no way she was dragging herself back to her nightmarish home and risking herself a 99.9% chance of her family raging at her. And make them even more disappointed in her? No way! She had to maintain a normal life. She had to—
"Mr Garcia—"
She couldn't take it anymore. This had gone too far. Thunder started to boom throughout the sky, breaking the silence between them. She could sense Ezra's smug smirk.
"Not only are you a threat to our company, you're also threatening everyone!" hollered Will Garcia. "You have failed to understand and accept even the simplest of terms, which were clearly emblazoned on the company regulations."
Jovie remained silent. "Furthermore, I am obliged to say Metanoia Center itself has alerted us of your odd behavior."
He's crazy. Jovie thought. Actually crazy.
"What—Metanoia?!" she screamed.
"But—"
"You have also refused to leave this workplace, and you are dangerous. You have to understand that." He frowned, but it was one of fear. "Like a beast. And you don't know...how potentially dangerous your abilities can be...so you need to be contained."
Jovie stayed silent.
"You can't just suddenly say Metanoia! Metanoia what? It's after me?" she stuttered. "You can't just send people to Metanoia! It's...it's um...it's irrational!"
Mr Garcia gazed at her softly.
"You can't do that." she repeated.
Mr Garcia's eyes dilated, revealing for a second what resembled a yellow glint in his eyes.
He shoved a letter into her coat. She fixated on the letter, which seemed to be of fine gold print.
Jovanna's eyes darted here and there, everywhere. She didn't even know what to believe anymore, but Metanoia? She was doomed, to say the least. She had heard of unspoken horrors in the very place known as Metanoia. She had to admit that she didn't know what horrors this place held. But she would rather not. Her parents had warned her that Metanoia Center was the death camp for magicians. So she kept her profile low. But now, why keep her own profile low? She was already doomed.
"Leave."
She drew a long, shaky breath before letting out, "I—I don't—"
Before she could finish, a slam blasted through her ears as she shut her eyes tight. When she opened them, she was already outside the office.
She stared at the letter and heaved a great sigh.
Word count: 1312
(Author's note: Caution—There will be angst AND fluff. Also, Ezra is a brat. But a brat with some power.)