I tap my fingers to the rhythm of Twenty-three by IU, slightly bouncing my head as I try to sing along, but fail. I curl my toes, dying to get off these shoes that are killing me. I shouldn't have worn such high heels, but they were so pretty to refuse. My best friend, Nora, told me I should've picked a more comfortable pair, but I didn't listen. It's when I make bad choices like this that I hate how stubborn I can be. I should always listen to Nora, I know better by now, she's the voice of reason in our relationship, but I'm just a little piece of shit.
I can't wait to be home, take off these shoes and just lie in my bed, massaging my cheeks after so much smiling. However, this has to wait as I have to drop by the office to inform how the charity event went, and to pick up Nora, who's with Louise, her mother.
When my dad was still alive, Louise was his secretary and right hand. He trusted her better than his own advisors, and for everything he needed, Louise was the one in charge. This is how Nora and I got to meet, even if she's one year younger than me. Since we were little kids we've been best friends, almost like sisters, always doing everything together. Since we were kids we've wanted to work together and be like our parents, working side by side and trusting each other, knowing there's someone you can rely on. It certainly eases my anxiety knowing that eventually Nora will fill Louise's shoes and be by my side when I become the president of the company.
A big sigh escapes my lips when I think of that. I wish it didn't have to happen so soon and I had a few more years to enjoy my youth and freedom, but above all, I wish he were still with me, being my father. It's been so lonely without him for the past year. He might have been the biggest entrepreneur in the whole UK but he was my father first. The world might have lost a bright mind and great businessman, but I lost the man who always put me first and taught me the most important lessons in life. It was my father who, despite pampering me, kept me with my feet on the ground.
He's gone now, leaving me with my stepmother only. I've thought about actually going to Mamá back in Chile, but we're not that close and I already have my life here, and responsibilities. Even if I could push things for a few more years until I feel ready and can actually take over the business, the mere thought of leaving Laura, my stepmother, in charge of everything until then gives me chills.
It's not because she will ruin everything, although she is less prepared than I am, but still she's doing quite well until now. What makes me gag about her being the one in charge is that she's just hungry for money. The fact she only married father, deceived him and all that, makes me sick to the stomach. But maybe she didn't totally deceive father, maybe only to the point he allowed it, because he still didn't give her power over the company.
I wasn't really partial to her before, but I really decided not to let her sit on my father's chair after the will was read.
I followed her the day after the lawyer informed us the terms and conditions my father had left, I did it because she looked upset and I thought it was because we were all struggling with my dad's passing away. I wanted to comfort her and tell her things would be okay, that we had to bear with the formalities and such. Instead of her crying or grieving, I found her throwing everything on her dresser to the floor in a fit of rage. I was so shocked I couldn't even move, I just saw her screaming and cursing my father.
Her words are still fresh in my head as if it had happened yesterday and not like almost a year ago.
"You decrepit dimwit! How dare you treat me like this? I didn't bear with you for all this time for you to leave me with five percent. I hope you're rotting in hell, you piece of horseshit!"
She was always so soft-spoken and sweet to him, almost kissing the ground he stepped on. I know now it was just an act and I don't like people with two extremely different sides. I don't like people who use the people I love.
So even if I would like things to be different and have actually a proper and reliable team in charge until I feel ready to use my father's chair, I can't allow that for as long as she still has some minor right to fill his shoes.
So I can't run away; I just have to wait until I turn twenty-one and can kick her out. Thank goodness there's not much until then.
WOW! my mobile screams, alerting me of a new text and breaking through my thoughts, so I press my thumb on the home button to unlock the screen and read the message Nora's sent me.
Mum thinks you should be careful when you come in -Nora
Why? -Blanca
I text her back, honestly wondering why I would have to be careful. If there are reporters or anything outside, which isn't abnormal in my life, it'd be good if they see me coming. I was literally in a charity before coming here.
That's the thing about charities and big companies: it's a show. Yeah, we help and all, but most of the time it's because it makes us look good, it appeases the angry mob and improves our image. And I use the plural first person because I'm part of it. Want it or not, it's part of the job. Especially when you're in the public eye, when you are the face of a company. Even if you don't really support the cause, just the fact you're supporting them or helping them somehow, helps the company more. It's even a way to avoid taxes.
It's an ugly and very cold world the one of businesspeople.
Even if I'm not yet the president of the company, I am the most known face and for that reason sent to charities quite often, to show the human face of BEEB Group.
There are some people who might be nasty to you. That's all. Be careful -Nora
I frown a bit, trying to imagine what kind of people might be nasty to me. Sure, loads of people hate me, envy me and more, but who could be outside the office to act like that?
Well, I'll find out when I get there.
Okay, I'll be careful. By the way, my shoes are killing me. Why are you always so wise and always right? so annoying -Blanca
Just laughing emojis come back.
It's the wisdom that comes from eating rice three times a day -Nora
I grimace like every time she says that. Nora is half Korean, her mother is English and her father Korean, and although he followed the woman he fell for when they met back in Korea, he still makes sure to pass his culture to his daughter. That means, eating habit, language, manners and more. I do think rice is delicious and I really enjoy going to her house when her father cooks, but having rice three times a day is too much for me. Besides, I come from a country where we eat bread practically three times a day, and because both my parents were Chilean, I inherited all the eating habits as well.
I give Nora's culture props for having healthier habits, though.
We keep texting until Mark, the very young and new driver, announces we've arrived and hurries to open the door for me. I've learnt to wait for him to do that because, although I think it's too much, it's part of his job and he might get scolded for not doing as told, especially in front of other people. When he drives me home and no one is watching I always tell him not to bother and just go home himself and rest.
The moment I step outside the car I understand why Nora sent me that text.
There's quite the large group, probably near twenty people, with signs and speakers manifesting in front of BEEB Group headquarters.
Oh joy, activists.
I wonder what they are manifesting for now. There's always something they are unhappy for, no matter what we do. It's not like we can be perfect and cause no harm because that's just basically impossible. Just breathing is harmful, of course having a large company is even worse but it's also necessary for the country. We help the economy and people by giving them good jobs. It's about compensating, but these activists don't care about that, they only focus on what we're doing wrong.
It's so unfair.
I don't let them intimidate me or anything, I keep walking, heading where I'm supposed to meet with Nora and then Louise. I need to also met Laura and tell her about the charity event and the networking I did there. As I'm not twenty-one yet, I still have to report and answer to her.
"When will you develop a conscience?!" someone shouts, using a speaker to make sure I hear. It feels like this question is directly shot to me.
I make the mistake of looking back, making sure to keep my face neutral and cold. I wish I was wearing my hair down, I would be able to flip it, but because of the event I had to get it up in a intrinsic up-do, otherwise it would be falling in long dark brown waves.
I see a boy with the speaker, tall and with a prepotent posture. He's dressed in extremely casual clothes that, maybe, saw better days in the past but not anymore. Wholes that aren't fashionable, with a flannel and denim jacket and these super dirty lace-up boots. Like seriously, did he just threw clothes on top of him or what? He's young but he doesn't look like he cares about what he looks like. He must be in his early twenties, with-I think- black messy hair styled up, and I wonder if it's like that because he did it or because he just didn't wash it.
He honestly gives the vibe of a dirty hippie.
"You need to learn the world isn't only yours and you can't treat it as your playground. More people need it!" he keeps shouting, enraged with me, apparently. He is glaring in my direction.
I won't answer or shout back, and I know body language can be more powerful than words sometimes, so I just stick out my hips, even resting one hand on my hip in the most nonchalant pose I can make, raising my left eyebrow and grimacing at him.
He can see how little I care about his words and whatever he's fighting for, and he's pissed.
"One day you'll learn how monstrous you and all your people are," he keeps shouting, almost as if I personally offended.
I shrug, probably making him hate my whole existence and curse on my whole family tree.
I barely scan their signs, knowing they are protesting about our carbon emissions and something like that. Not like I can do anything about it. We are a humongous company, with many branches and just working adds to the pollution problem, but it's not like we can stop. What happens if we stop? How many people will be left jobless? How badly affected the economy of the country will be?
As I said, it's about compensating and although we are contaminating the world quite a lot, we are helping society just as much.
That's how life is, business people always choose money over anything else.
With that, I turn around, completely dismissing him and every other activist shouting things. I have people to meet, results to report and a life to lead. I don't have time for this.
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Chan! And here we go, we start a new story. And for the record, I do not agree with Blanca's opinions on this chapter, but how can be character development if she doesn't have something to learn? What brings me to this question for you all.
How do you think this meeting will come back to bite Blanca in the bum? The journey is just beginning!
On the multimedia a picture suggesting how Blanca looks like. I picked actress Caitlin Stasey because she looks like many posh Chilean girls I've met xD (toda una pelolais). I'll go showing you the rest of the cast as the characters appear (:
Dedication to KeiraHarry
Bel, xx
~updates every Friday~