—six—
the cyborg
SONSIE, BRUNETTE, YOUNG.
That was Miss Denise Danssen, the director of operations at Manor Amusement Park, in a nutshell. Paige had always pictured this infamous woman as a forty-year-old, stern, who meowed back at cats.
But as she looked at her now−distractedly glancing at Owen and her while juggling the phone against her ear, one hand pulling up a file, but still able to throw them a smile every once in awhile−all of those prejudiced notions of hers were swiftly thrown out of the window.
She watched in amusement as they waited for her to have a breather.
"...yes, give me the ballpark figure of Boon's proposal and email it to me right now. It's way out of our budget but I'll discuss it with the board and see what I can do−" she paused as her eyes glanced down at what seemed to be another email or document on her desktop. "−wait, have you checked with Mr Sullivan about the renewal for the security agency? Yes. Yes, please...Kurt, it's the annual fire inspection today. I'd go the whole rounds if I could but there's only so much I can do...I am sorry, but I don't think that's possible. We have to follow protocols, Kurt. Alright, thank you...my apologies..."
Owen and her chuckled at the same time as soon as she ended the call.
"Denise, this is Paige Cadwyn, the new intern−" Owen emphasized jocularly, glimpsing at her with eyes crinkled at the corners. "Paige, Miss Denise Danssen, operations manager."
"Hello," Paige said, stretching a hand out and smiled when Denise happily took it. "That was quite a conversation."
"Busy is my life," she said, readjusting her glasses that didn't depreciate her baby blue eyes. "I've heard so much about you from Miss Isolde and Owen here. I've been working under your grandmother's administration for more or less three years but I never saw you once, even as I started here when Mister Tom was still alive."
Owen snapped his head in her direction but she made a blank face. He was aware how attached she was with her grandfather's memories. But it was okay for her to hear the truth. It still hurt, yes, but it didn't mean like she hadn't accepted what happened, yet.
"She was pretty focused with her studies for the past years," Owen answered for her, and Paige blinked at him. There was still something in his voice, like he wanted to add something but kept those thoughts at bay. It was her Achilles' heel, she'd assumed, he'd originally wanted to say but she was grateful that Owen got a good grip of it at the last second. "But she's ready now, I'm sure."
Paige didn't like it that he had so much confidence for her. She hated the tone of his words and at the fact that he knew her that much, even the things she didn't know about herself.
"So you've been here for quite a long time," mused Paige, and Denise nodded with a grin, mouthing a that's right, "what did you start as, if you don't mind me asking?"
She waved her off. "Of course, I don't mind at all. Well...it was during summer when I applied for one of the mascots and then the rest is history."
"Mascot!"
Denise chuckled. "It's true. The competition here was too tight, still is, and I really needed to hive up for my vacation trip at the time. And since I don't have any previous experience before that and because I heard that the wisest approach to get into a company as big as Manor is to apply for the unglamorous positions, I sent a resume and applied for a mascot. I've never left since. That's how you know you're in good hands."
"But why a mascot?" Owen asked, out of curiosity.
Denise shrugged. "Why not? I've always wondered what it feels like to be stripped off of all the layers of your perception of what you are. Which is ironic, considering that I had to put on a disguise. I craved the anonymity. It's like I was purged from my faults and the judgments that've been made about me; and I remembered why I am the way I am from who I am. You wear the mascot and you feel like a new person all over again−you'd just be a being. People don't judge you for who you are and what you do. They'd go up to you without question. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Those are very wise words, Denise," said Paige, nodding lightheadedly. "Although that'd be really hot wearing one, is that correct?"
Denise chuckled, before settling for a wide smile, her eyes fluttering. She was gorgeous and Paige could clearly see how besotted Owen was based on his perpetual stares. "It is hot, I admit. But if you have the passion for what you do, in making others happy, it would be less challenging for you. But then again, we abide by all the rules the chairwoman has consolidated."
Paige frowned. "I'm not sure I fully understand."
"Because clearly you weren't paying attention when you were supposed to peruse the documents I've laid out to you."
Paige discreetly shot him a look, but certain enough to know that her cheeks turned to crimson. But Owen was barely fazed and returned it with a cunning smile. As if he was rubbing it in her face that she'd been more focused on fending for a topic that was irrelevant at that time.
"What I mean is..." Denise started, seemingly oblivious about their internal warring, "the mascots can only remove their costumes when they're on their breaks and by the end of their shifts; and−they can't be seen walking around without their headgear on so as to remain anonymous, let alone be known by the other employees, except for the HR Department."
"Oh." Paige grimaced. "That's pretty tough to stick to."
Denise rested her forearms on top of each other on her desk, her chest leaning against it, and gave them a tight smile. "It is, for some. But it's for a good cause. Some do it for their therapy."
"Therapy?"
Denise simply hummed a nod, and Paige didn't quite follow what she was trying to say. So in the end, she presumed it wasn't that important for her to know, anyway.
Soon, another wave of phone calls started to rang in and so Owen initiated a parting handshake and stood up. Paige had to fight back an eye roll when Owen smirked at Denise in the most flirtatious manner he'd always perfected. "If you don't mind, I'd like to give Miss Paige a tour around the park."
"Of course," Denise said, one hand reaching for the phone. Before picking it up, she added, "and you guys inform me if you see some anomalies going on."
They all chuckled.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Thirty minutes into the tour when Owen's phone rang. It had been ringing incessantly since they'd gone out of the headquarters but he now seemed riled up. Paige urged him to just take the call by nodding at him. Owen sighed and signaled her a one sec.
Once he was a few distance away, Paige twined her hands down her back and she looked up at the roller coaster, turning and twisting into an infinite loop of screams and laughter. Her lips curved up into a fascinated smile, her eyes following the trail of ups and downs, every whisks to different directions.
Something pricked inside her chest ever so suddenly.
The amusement park was rather vast so the ride was somewhat far from where they were.
And she realized how happiness seemed so distant. How some things looked so close, but when she tried to reach them, she'd curl her fingers back when she understood how far they actually were. And in the grand scheme of things, one thing was now finally clear to her−the world was unjust. She'd rise on the upside and see that everything her eyes could reach was hers, only to realize how unhappy and alone she truly was.
She was so lucky−but why was she lonely?
Her eyes started to sting and she quickly averted her eyes, and her attention landed on the fancy roof of the merry-go-round that was situated left side of the pathway she was standing on. They were in a more secluded area, where there was a garden and rooted benches that were overlooking the downtown area of the city.
Owen was still talking over the phone so she waited, and when he glanced at her, she gestured that she'd go near the carousel before he nodded. When she reached it, she studied both the rise and fall of the white horses−couples smiling and children chuckling with their parents tending to them as the machine slowly rolled around.
Not wanting to get too emotional once more, she turned around as her eyes hit a blinding strip of silver just a couple inches off from where she was standing. There were a few group of people surrounding something and she craned her neck in curiosity. Then she realized they were taking pictures with a mascot−particularly an aluminum one. It was a cyborg, which simply appeared as something that was akin to Iron Man.
When the guests had let up, she shlepped towards him and flashed a timid smile. "Hi there," her voice soft as a feather when he noticed her. "I−"
The cyborg ignored her and her mouth tugged down in confusion and surprise. It was as if he didn't see her in the first place. Or did he, really? So she braved her way behind him and halted in her tracks as he did so.
His back was turned to her, his stance several inches taller, bold, and intimidating under the sunlight that Saturday morning. The haphazard ridges on his back was tempting her to feel them but if she so much as touch him, she'd probably burn her hands off. So she refrained herself from doing so.
Paige had never grown fondness for mascots whatsoever, nor did she hated them. But he bore an enigmatic, heroic sculpture which drew hazards to him and the dangers accompanied to his aura made him seem charismatic.
Which was wholly preposterous because he was a mere fictional character.
She pulled a look when the robot remained still, so she stepped closer behind him, only to startle back in surprise when he suddenly turned round. Everything happened so fast−her heart careened against her rib cage as she lost her balance, her eyes instinctively shut at her inevitable fall.
What.
A firm, cold clutch made carvings in her wrist, fighting off the gravity, and as she opened her eye to peer her surrounding, she was met with the cyborg's body hovering over hers, his face quite vague amidst the shafts of light around his head.
"Thank you," she murmured, blinking as he helped her back up to the balls of her feet. "That was actually my fault, I'm so−"
She deadpanned when he spun his heel, only to sit at a nearby bench. Worrying her lip, she watched him just easing his back ramrod straight and his head directed ahead. Something just magnetized her to him, she wasn't sure why. Add the fact that she felt silly milling about alone, as Owen headed on with business matters.
Her feet moved out of their own accord; then, without waiting for an invitation, she took a load off on the space next to him. He never glanced back at her again, and she'd wondered if he was a male her age, or close. There was a fragmented thought there where she asked herself if this was a male or female in the first place. But she soon concluded it was a man beneath the cover, considering that the costume looked a little too heavy for a woman's capacity. Unless one had been lifting weights. But it was high unlikely, she decided.
If it were an old man or young, she wasn't sure, too. But her instinct was too strong in telling her that it was a young man. Settling on that idea, she smiled at him, even though he probably wasn't even looking at her.
"You know, I will be working here. No, I will soon run everything when the right time comes. So we should practice our teamwork from this day onwards. I'm sorry for being annoying. You're probably already tired." She paused, thinning her lips into a tight smile. "And I don't know why...for someone who's an introvert, I'm particularly chatty today." Paige chuckled to herself, flushing when he snapped his head to hers. "Anyways...I guess it's because we're strangers. You don't get to judge me, I don't get to judge you. I don't know. It's weird that I feel comfortable in talking to you. But no, I will make sure I'd still keep my privacy."
Her eyes scanned him down but in a subtle manner. Soon, her attention latched onto the bright red letters written horizontally on his forearm. Mark 24.
She laughed. "That's funny. Mark 24. Have you seen the movie? That's just like Iron Man's Mark 42. I could give you a name, though." She tilted her head to the side, humming as she thought of a fitting name for him. "Since you're a robot, how about I call you Robby? It doesn't sound so fancy or anything but that'll have to do, I think."
"Paige!"
Her head followed the voice, only to find Owen a few meters off, one hand in the air. "Be right there!"
Owen nodded and pulled out a pack of his cigarettes, before turning round. Paige sighed and turned to Robby, fractionally catching him stiffening. He was basically a man made of steel, but his surprise was still evident.
"I have to go, Robby. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess, if you're not on your day off. Have a nice day."
Paige soon left, never once looking back at him.
She never made it when he stood up from his seat, cornered himself near the bushes. She never made it to look back when he removed his headgear and wiped the bullets of sweat forming on his forehead. He felt like he was on fire inside the costume, and he felt suffocated.
But he had a rule to uphold.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
On Monday afternoon, she found herself looking up at the wall clock just above the whiteboard of the classroom. She wasn't counting for how long Arthur had been out of sight. This morning, she was supposed to have two classes with him, but neither his shadow was seen striding into the room.
Now, with the lull before Human Resource Management, he was still nowhere to be found.
Paige turned to a redhead guy next to her. He was deeply focused with the game in his phone, the gadget practically shaking as he tap, tap, tap on it. She called him for a few moments, even when he was ignoring her.
"Excuse me."
Turning, he glared at her. "What?"
"Sorry to interrupt but...have you seen Huxley?"
He turned back to his game and distractedly said, "No. You go ask him." He jammed his thumb behind him, and then she realized he was talking about the blond guy at the topmost back, who was currently chatting away with some of the frat boys in the campus.
She sighed. The thought of walking up to him was pretty daunting. Well, in general, people she didn't really know intimidated her. Even more so with guys like him. People like him. Someone confident, assured, and basically a magnet of the opposite sex.
This was no high-school, but that social pyramid was stuck on her and she couldn't quite shake off that feeling of reluctance. But Arthur was widely known around the university. So what made him any different?
Arthur was approachable. Cain appeared to be treacherous.
But Arthur wasn't answering her texts, and there was no other people who knew him better than Cain Hamilton. It was either she would let her worry eat her whole or get over it and walk up to Cain.
It had to be the latter, naturally.
Slow, she ascended the landings after landings, up until she was standing beside Cain's row. All mouths clamped shut when three guys from a fraternity noticed her, before Cain frowned and followed their gazes.
"Hi," Paige managed, despite her voice shaking. "I'm−"
Cain smirked. "Paige Cadwyn. Daughter of business leaders Vincent and Isobel Cadwyn. Granddaughter of the marvelous Tom Cadwyn, founder of the Manor Amusement Park and Manor Hotels, I know, I know." He outstretched a hand, his smile perennially nonchalant. "Cain Hamilton, at your service."
Paige didn't like the approach. He was cocky and practically telling her that it was her privilege to waste his time. But she could be wrong. What did she know about body languages, anyway? But she took his hand all the same, an uncordial tug pulling up her lips. It wasn't a prerogative. He was a liability, she thought.
"You sure know a lot about me."
Cain averted his gaze, only to pick up his pen and randomly clipping it in between his teeth. In her periphery, she saw his friends turning back out front and started their own conversation. "Oh, I know a lot of things, Cadwyn." Her eyebrows pinched together. But she simply brushed it off, just as Cain added, "I take it that you're here in search for my friend?"
Now feeling mettlesome, she said, "What's going on with Arthur? I haven't seen him since this morning."
"No idea." He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes. "He's a big boy. He can handle himself. You just worry too much. And sit down, will you? I like the attention but I'm feeling humble today."
She schooled her face into an unamused one. Gossips were accurate. He was self-absorbed and that only made him more unattractive in her eyes. Sensing that he wasn't going to talk if she didn't, she soon plopped down on the vacant seat next to him. The room wasn't completely empty, but the other students were still probably in their current classes, the one before this.
"Aren't you concerned, though?" she asked seconds later, her skin practically crawling when he shifted his body to her direction. "You're his best friend. What if something's happened to him or−"
"I am his best friend, yes. But just cool it, Cadwyn. He's done it a couple of times and he's going to do it again. That's just how he is. And I know when he doesn't want to be bothered. Only because I just laugh at him," he mused. "Nothing satisfies me more when I piss him off." His smile widened as he stared at her. "He's fine, though. Stop being an agony aunt. It doesn't look hot on you."
"I am not an agony aunt!" she hissed.
He held his hands up and shivered in a way one was frightened. But he chuckled after, ignoring her icy glares. "Why're you so worried, anyway? Wait," he blinked, as if he was realizing something. An undecipherable emotion crossed his eyes. He swallowed. "Are you guys a thing already?"
"What? No."
He let out a breath. But she didn't understand why it came out so stressed. Recalling the fact that Cain had a crush on her made her flush in embarrassment. It didn't seem fair that she was talking to him, only to ask about Arthur.
"Right." His jaw ticked. "I'm just wondering...so you're just friends, then."
Her lashes flickered at him, and he waited as the words lingered behind her teeth. Was it alright if she share things like this to him, of all people? His frosty blue eyes stared at her for a little too long that she had to rip her eyes away from his.
It was no strange to Paige that he was treading dangerous waters here. He hadn't got the keys to her doors so, clearly, he wasn't authorized to unlock any of them. Cain was vastly different from Arthur and Jo's way of dealing with people or situations. But she suddenly felt comfort. And that comfort gave her a little push.
She cleared her throat, thinking of a million ways on how to approach this. For a moment or two, she decided to be honest. "We haven't really talked about it. I do sense that he's scared just as how hesitant I am in diving into a relationship. I'm ready if he is. I think. I just−I don't wanna rush things, you know? So, it's a good thing that he doesn't bring it up that much."
He let out something like a noncommittal groan.
As the short silence sunk between them, she ruminated over it. It wasn't a good thing that he didn't open such topics to her that much. Who was she kidding? Paige always had this second-thoughts about guys ever since her experiences with being wooed or how her suitors' romantic advances spiraled out of control, disappointing her thoughts about love and relationships over and over again. Especially with Owen.
Emotional attachment sounded far-fetched because it never really ended well for her. But the more she persisted, all the more she desired in finding someone who could truly love her.
So, yes. It was awful to stand on the other side of the line and then never crossing it. It was too big of a risk and she might not be able to handle it. Somehow, she needed a reassurance that it was going to be okay, in spite of the inevitable suffering it could afflict her. That if it would hurt, she'd hoped that it would be lesser than how she anticipated it to be. And adding the fact that Arthur hadn't sort things out between them, of what they were, magnified her doubts.
All she wanted was someone who would catch her if she fall.
Cain tapped his pen on his binder repetitively, a grim look masking his features. The silence was almost unbearable, save for the laughter coming from the seats a little lower from where they were.
He breathed, at last. When he spoke, his voice was deep and way different from what his tone normally sounded. Cain didn't even glance at her as if the topic bored him. Paige rolled her lips. Even if she'd sympathize, it was no use. It was Arthur whom she only wanted. "I think he's somewhere at the back lawn. That's where he usually stays because the place is always empty."
"I think I know what you mean. Thank you, Cain."
As she hurried down, Cain's eyes followed her until she was out of the door. He shook his head and turned to the window with a wistful expression. "Why him, Paige?"