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Is it work when you do not earn a salary? George does not think so. His college graduate status and achievement serve him well in finding a well paying job. That is…a messenger/secretary for his CEO. Everytime he looks at his reflection on the elevator mirror, he always wonders whether it was his looks or the papers that got him the yes. His coworkers join him, greeting their mornings, maybe because of his looks or his papers? It is always between these two in his head. Looks and papers, looks and papes, looks and papers, their greetings going by looks and papers. It is a problem, but well, it does not concern him now that he is in front of the CEO office.
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In front of him is work. He had himself mentally prepared, and he knows he can do it. He can do it by simply playing a role, play a role, play a role.
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Thrice he knocks on the door, and makes himself in after permission. “Good morning sir Herald.” Spoken like a true assistant of a big time brand ownr.
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“Good morning, Mr. Falcon” the CEO hops behind his desk, warm with a smile as he and up to greet down his secretary. He is, without a doubt, a man of presence with his gold piercings, and neck bending 8ft tall height. “I found something interesting yesterday.” He starts, gesturing with his phone, “can you guess what it is?
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For a second, George freezes to squeeze his brain on what his boss is talking about. The silent air clutching his lungs, “Would that be China being a potential partner?” Breathing out,
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“No~” Mr. Herald says simply, scrolling on his phone while hearing George's play.
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“Uh…A chance for promotion for me?” A bead of sweat starting to form.
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“You’re best where you are now~”
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“Uhm, a new product idea?” Sweating and teary eyed, fist clench by how frustrating he has to think.
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“Hardly~”
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WHAT IS IT? George bites his own lips, unforgiving for himself in being so ‘useless’. He is a secretary yet he cannot assist his boss, he is hung up on the idea that whatever the boss asks, he has to answer them ‘properly’. And by properly at work means business. What did the boss see at Faebok. Boiling his temple, George cannot think of anything and he looks as if he is about to burst in tears. “I apologize! I apologize for being incompetent sir…” his head angled low, looking for sorry on Mr. Herald’s white shoe, “I don’t know anything!”
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“What are you talking about?” Mr. Herald chuckles, offering him a delightfully smoking cup of morning coffee. “I found a poem on Faebok.”
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The word ‘poem’ snaps his head back up, giving him an idea about what it is about. “You did?” Gulping,
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“Really quite interesting.” Sipping his tea,
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And the most likely victim is silent, wanting to find a seat to which Mr. Herald permits him. He drinks his coffee quietly, heart nearly beating out of his chest by what his ears are expecting to hear.
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“You're quite interesting” sipping more tea,
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Big gulp, responding with nothing but a nod.
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Then Mr. Herald starts with a soft background music of birds and wind rustling the trees, then all of a sudden he poetically recites, “He is a THORN in my Studies *sob*, He is a SILVERfish in my BOouks *sniffle*, AH~ He is an unborn FETUZ that SHOULD! SHOULD still be in a belly, and…He is an unwanted happiness that draeeves me in his… hoOKs.” An ear shattering performance! Worthy of glass shattering applause—which would be George’s character.
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Why did he have to do that!? George keeps glancing at the door—wanting to leave the room and hide in a rat hole. By the moment Mr. Herald clicks his tongue on the ending, his knees spring up. But he stands still, holding himself still by havinga tomato head. “You sound…” he tries for a change of subject, “…good sir, what did you do to make it sound good?”
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But the CEO is not so easily swerved, “I guess you were quite the narcissist and judgemental type before. It’s really hard to see that from the you now.”
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GAAAAHAAAAAUGHH, and he did! George changed so much that he now kneels and beg for Mr. Herald to stop and forget everything he read on whatever that post is about.
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“How could I when I memorized every bits of it” such a teaser! “It probably cringes you out right?”
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And George is once again tongue tied, up until he gulps down the entire bitter coffee as if it is a shot of tequila. “What did I do to deserve this from you sir!? Please,” once again kneeling, really now with tears slowly trickling down, “please just don’t fire me because of it!”
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“Fire you!?” Mr, Herald is clearly taken aback by his pitiful assistant’s response. Why would he want to fire George? He has no reason, and every bit of fun in his motion and expression burden him with seriousness on the lad’s shoulder. “Hey bud, relax, that’s not funny.”
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George once again says or hear nothing, his head already convinced by the voices that tell him he is fired because of how incompetent, useless, and terrible he is at being a secretary. He does not pass the cut, nor does he deserve everything. A quarter of his life is wasted, wasted, WASTED! A waste of time and space! Everything mental slowly spins his emotion out of control and now he is a sobbing mess.
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“George, George!” Mr. Herald brings him out of his mind, “hey bud. You think too much. You’re not getting fired or anything.” Taking proper pauses and seriously thinking what he is about to say. “You have to see yourself more than what you have to do. I think that should be a life lesson for you and, let me tell you, nothing about you is insufficient . You being here now is enough. Don’t stress yourself.”
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“Sorry sir…”
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“Aww damn. I made another employee cry.”
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“Sorry sir…”
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“Stop, go get me my pile for today. Get ready for business and next time when I say that, that’s when you should think about business.”
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“Yes sir…”
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(George is a crybaby now, but in the past, he was a menace —Emily)
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