—fiftyfour—
the unanticipated
ARTHUR FELT A tap on his shoulder, and when he looked to his side, one of his workmates distractedly said, "Gear up, dude. We gotta get to the main grounds."
"Aight. Be right there," he replied, pulling out his helmet from his locker before closing it. He then placed it down his head and followed suit, falling into a step with the other mascots.
They'd been told right before their break that there was going to be a celebration or of some sort later tonight. That was all there was to it, really. So basically, they were just going to gather up in the background to get the crowd going, he presumed.
As they were nearing the quad, he scanned the surrounding and found that the area was already flocked with people. None was happening so far but one staff from the events team approached them, parceling out some instructions on which team should take this or that post. He was included in the first group and they were assigned to take the front sides of the quad, just near the art museum, while the others soon stood by the opposite end of the main grounds.
Beneath his mask, he fleetingly pulled his eyebrows together when several guys from different media teams had caught his attention, their cameras already set up fronting the Victorian building. He looked back at the crowd and sensed that they were waiting for something. It wasn't like he cared, honestly. It was just part of his job to stand and be a decorative being straight out of a fairy tale movie.
His workmate, who was wearing a gnome costume, suddenly nudged his elbow so that he would look up at the patio at the second floor of the art museum. Two spotlights were criss-crossing up above the night skies, and one was directed straight to the middle of the building where the patio was.
And then someone announced the names of Paige Cadwyn and Owen Callaghan as they soon emerged, making his stomach slightly churn. The two had elated smiles across their faces; Paige's hands were clasped around Owen's elbow, while the latter had his one hand perched atop Paige's as they were nearing to the balustrade.
Everyone's attention was on them, the spotlight hitting them from the waist up. Arthur felt like getting the hell out of this shell he was in, go up to Paige, and snatch her so they could run off together and never come home.
But fairytales were fairytales for a reason. They were our means of escape because reality disappoint humans so often. And all he could do was stop and stare, the fact that she was so out of his reach now becoming a lot more overwhelming that it just broke his heart. Because God knows how much he loved her.
"...let's give a round of applause for the soon-to-be Mr and Mrs Callaghan!"
He stopped dead.
That was the strangest thing about hearing something so dumbfounding. You were inclined to react right away, but sometimes, you never did. Because all of a sudden, nothing made sense. Your mind would crumble you into nothingness as the world was keeping entirely still. And when the words did register, he was catapulted back into the right time but way off his rightful place. His lungs felt corrupted as though heaven and earth collapsed right into him.
He never felt that much pain before.
Seconds later when Paige looked into his direction, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. It was as if she knew he'd always be there. Paige hesitated at first, wondering if he was Robby. And so he clapped his metallic gloves before raising a thumb at her, even when under his cover, he was really trying to breathe. She took it as her cue to curve up her lips into a wide smile and gave him a quick wave, before she gazed ahead of the crowd.
Then she looked at Owen, and that was his major wake-up call. Because she used to look at him that way.
Arthur walked away from the crowd, away from her altogether. He sprinted and it took him a good five minutes before he reached his favorite hiding place–the cave.
He removed his headgear and threw it away, echoing the smashing sound of his helmet against the stony floor. Without thinking, he punched the rocky walls; but the pain in his chest was too unbearable that he could hardly care about his bones cracking any longer.
When his senses fully registered that his skin and his knuckles couldn't take it any further, he placed his palms flat against the stone wall with his head hung low between his hunched shoulders, chest heaving up and down with every pained breath he took.
It felt like he had a broken rib.
Arthur turned his back against the wall and pathetically descended towards the floor. He lifted up his knees and rested his arm there, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
Wondering how he could let someone go when his heart was never his in the first place.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Paige bit her lip to stop herself from grinning as she watched Cain and Jouwee studying the ring on her finger. Jouwee had automatically gasped at the beauty of the diamond before throwing her arms around Paige. She tried to hush her since they were in the library, but Jouwee wasn't someone you could easily talk out of practically anything.
"Oh, my gosh. Congratulations!"
Stifling a chuckle, she buried her face in Jouwee's hair. "Thank you, Jo," she murmured, casting her lashes sideways at Cain, who was sat opposite them. His arms were crossed, and he would've never pulled up a smile whatsoever, had she not actually looked at him. As soon as they tore away from each other, she said, "You know what, let's go wolf down some pizza at Pizzarico's."
"What? No."
She arched her eyebrow at Jouwee at the ever-so-sudden reaction, making her friend slouch off in her seat and her face somewhat flushed. "You used to egg me on going there, you wouldn't even stop tormenting me until I finally okayed it."
Jouwee blinked, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you know, people change."
"Poor argument but I'll buy it."
"Have you thought this through?" Cain suddenly asked in that condescending tone of his, acting so brotherly all of a sudden. That was considerably noticeable so she instinctively frowned at his question. "Just curious since, you know, you're young, you're smart...talented–you can still do so much outside of being in that type of marital lifestyle."
Paige shook her head dubiously. "You mean, as single. Sure. I appreciate your opinion, Cain, but I don't think marriage should hinder us from achieving success."
Cain had that usual behavior of his again when he didn't seem too please with something–he would cross his arms against his chest and school a nonchalant face that was almost grim.
Paige somewhat knew why. But she wasn't seeking for his confirmation, nor did she want to know anything further from what had already been said.
"Can we...can we talk? Alone?"
Jouwee and Paige looked at each other rather skeptically, before glancing back at Cain, who had his features etched into an undecipherable one. He prompted her with an arched eyebrow, and Paige silently spoke to Jouwee.
Shrugging, Jouwee said with a breathy tone, "Alright." Pushing her chair away from the table with a loud scraping noise, she then stood up from her seat while exchanging suspicious looks with the two of them.
"Yeah?" Paige leaned against the table as soon as Jouwee left, her arms braced on the table. "What is it?"
He breathed through his nose, mouth thinned into a straight line. Cain was buying some time, if him doing some tricks with his pen was a good indication.
"Cain."
And so he stopped, finally.
Tousling his brown hair in a frustrated manner, he pursed his lips and flickered his lashes up at her. "Are you sure?"
"What?"
"About marrying him, Paige." The irritation was handled much better today, but it was still clearly seeping from his tone. She pulled her eyebrows together. "What about Arthur?"
That abruptly made her pull back in faint surprise. "What about him?" she asked with a halfhearted chuckle when confusion settled in her.
"Let me shoot you straight; I just don't want you to end up regretting it."
"What're you talking about? Are you seriously telling me to stop my own engagement because I might be making the wrong choice, in which leave us to the conclusion that it's your friend whom I should be with? Do I have to remind you about what happened?"
She wasn't mad or anything, to be honest. But she was incredibly appalled at the idea of Cain being absolutely silly at the moment.
"I'm very aware of your history and now. But don't you want to correct your present in order to get to the future that you want?"
Paige shook her head, growing annoyed at him. "You don't know what I want, Cain. We're not having this conversation anymore."
He ripped out a long sigh, nonchalantly throwing his hands up. "Really, I'm glad we're over that situation we had at the hospital and I'm not here to bicker with you...I just want my friends to be happy."
Paige took a deep breath and, calmly, she replied, "Then let me be."
And she truly meant it.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
For the next few days, she'd turn back to her normal routine–juggling both work and college, which wasn't really exhausting since she'd be on-duty only during weekends. And for the most part of her shift, all she had to do was sit.
After Owen had proposed to her, they had to answer interviews left and right. It seemed obligatory, and she had no qualms about engaging with the reporters, anyway. At the same time, Owen's schedule was packed with social events, charity balls, and other matters where he would make her as her plus-one, of course; so there was that.
This one she considered to be a pause in life. All alone in her office, which was good. And bad because she was tightly chained to her thoughts again. Her brain half-registered that her fingers were playing around with the ring on her finger while she stared emptily beyond the void trapped within the four corners of her office.
"I'm only going to say this one time: Move," someone had said once in the lecture room some days ago; and that made Paige cut herself off from talking to one girl in her class to turn to that familiar, but rather unfriendly tone this time, that had always made her heart skip a beat.
Paige blinked as Arthur finally took the last step up towards the landing across their row. Someone had already occupied the other seat next to her so Arthur stared down at Mark Willoughby, whom she'd already made friends with since Arthur chose to sit next to Cain, and sometimes to others whenever the latter wasn't around. Anywhere but right beside her.
So pretty much everyone in the room was staring at them, given that this was the first in weeks that Arthur finally approached her again. In class, that is. The room was filled with a tensed silence; Arthur waited expectantly at Willoughby before clapping him on his shoulder when her seatmate eventually groveled under Huxley's frigid look, taking the vacant one somewhere two rows up.
Paige threaded her fingers through her brown waves as a sigh seeped through between her lips, looking at anywhere but him. But then her peripheral vision was shamelessly attentive; he soon eased himself inches away from her and she hauled an elephantine breath to keep herself from trembling.
She stared ahead with a godlike effort that the column of her neck felt like it was wreathed with wires of thorns. But Arthur just had to interrupt her concentration. Or the pretension, so to speak.
"That's a big rock," he said quietly, his tone almost a whisper. But the indications of his words were never inclined to a neighborly conversation.
Paige reeled her attention to the ring on her left hand, with a beautifully cut diamond sitting on top of it. Casually, she withdrew her stacked hands on her armrest and firmly placed them in her lap. It was out of instinct. But she never was sure if she wanted him to see it or not.
"I want to talk to you," he added seconds later when she didn't say a word to his comment, "about what Cain have told you."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I'm going to keep talking. Not unless you stitch my mouth shut, anyway."
The lines automatically etched between her eyebrows at the very tone of his voice. Like he wasn't going to go back down anytime soon. But she tried to ignore him all the same.
"It's true. He's my dad and I didn't tell you because I always thought you'd never want to look at me the same way again once you know who I really am. It happened in the past, I didn't want a repeat of that." Paige couldn't help but frown at that. But only infinitesimally small before she schooled her face into a somber one again. "If I were to piece my life into a series of montage, you'd never be able to enjoy watching it. Especially the bits where I was lying to you and...and when I was using you."
She really didn't want to see his face but that made her look, her lips clamped in rising fury. Arthur tore his eyes away from the whiteboard a little bit below to gaze at her, his features not giving anything away. 43 facial muscles and he almost always didn't use one.
"Why're you even still talking to me, Huxley?" Her voice shivered, and she didn't know how to stop it. "I don't even know why we're trying here. Look, I don't need to hear your explanation. All's over and done with, okay? I'm tired putting up with you so will you please just leave me alone?"
Arthur hesitated for a few seconds, his jawline clamped tight shut as he continued to stare at her. She felt small under his gaze, not in an inferior kind way but in another matter altogether. Then, he let out a breath and turned his attention away from her.
He never spoke again throughout the class. But right before he walked out of the room after they were dismissed, he stood up and paused his movements.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and Paige stared at his retreating back.
At the present moment, Paige snapped out of her trance and fluttered her lashes down at her hand again. She raised her fingers, the overhead lights reflecting themselves at every edge of the rock on her ring. It was easily the epitome of elegance and beauty and she found herself quirking her lips up in a small smile.
I can't believe I've reached this moment.
Her phone erupted a shrill sound across the room, making her jolt up a little in surprise. Picking it up, she immediately heard the voice of Ms Denise. "Hi, Paige. I don't know what happened with my computer. Some of my files are corrupted and I'm trying to look up the records of our new hires. Can you please send me your copies through e-mail?"
"Sure. Although I forgot to ask you for the password for the document to pull up the records–"
"Oh, right. It's uppercase M, then lowercase a-n-o-r-c-p-y, then 2415. Thanks!"
After the call, she immediately opened the said folder with the password given, and navigated to the particular documents Ms Denise needed. She composed the mail and attached the files before hitting send.
Then she bit her lip contemplatively, looking around. Technically, she was part of the HR department now. She could look the records up without getting into trouble. Besides, if the employees wanted to keep their identity or troubled backgrounds from others, there was no motivation in her whatsoever about letting the public know, anyway.
So she clicked the sub-folder: Figures and Talents Team, then scanned down to another sub-folder: Mascots, which had several batch numbers 1-31. Since Robby was a current employee, she figured that he was from the latest or he belonged to the second to the last batch that had renewed their contracts.
Opening the 30th folder, she scanned down the list of names and only found fairies, dwarfs, wizards, cartoon characters as their alter-identities, none of which, naturally, included Robby.
So I presume he's one of the newer ones, she thought.
Chewing her lip haphazardly, she retraced her path and scrolled down to 31st and clicked it open. The lists only ended until 106 so it would be a little bit easier for her to read down the names rather than the last one. Many had probably renewed their contracts from the previous batches so the company didn't need to rehire plenty more.
"Animals...Princess and Princesses...oh, here. Robots slash cyborgs," she murmured to herself, and smiled in amusement as she scrolled further down; when it caught her eye.
Her smile faded.
Name: Huxley, Arthur B.; Post: North Side, Finterland Garden; Character: Cyborg Mark-24.
"No way."