by A Uscila
Why was he standing about here, pretending to be oh so immersed in whatever it was the mobile had on its’ screen? Due to his work, of course. Two meters to the right – awaited a glass door, behind which a specific department of his workplace awaited – a department that was responsible for assigning reviewable locations to its’ agents and managing workload in general. Slavers, every single one of them. Whipping you with unreasonable demands and work quotas, the complaints that would drop from the sky after the inevitable failure to keep up with the demand serving as the cherry on top. In addition, not only did they not prepare his monthly quota on time, but they even asked poor Luke to wait outside while they add the finishing touches to whatever it was they had at this point. He could bet a whole hand that the bastards were simply adding more work, simply because they could and most likely because nobody liked Luke. At least that was the conclusion his frustrated mind came to as time stretched on – all that absent-minded staring, tapping of feet and grinding of molars not in the least helpful.
And yet, he waited still. He had to – it was his job. It’s not like they could simply e-mail him the bloody list, oh no. They just had to give it to him in person – demanding a signature as proof of accepting it all to cover their lousy asses in addition to it all. Haven’t they ever heard of digital signatures? If he meets any single one of them in Alternative Reality – he’ll drag them to the mines without a shred of mercy. Though, he’ll strip away anything of value first.
A pleasant image. Pleasant enough to smile at, which Luke did unconsciously – his lips twisting into a villainous sneer, the upward curve shifting downwards as soon as his thoughts rolled back to less pleasant thoughts. What was wrong this time? Well, Luke’s secondary source of income was, that’s what.
Apparently, the videos that he managed to edit and upload onto various webpages with at least moderate popularity were all, with only a few exceptions, marked as hateful and toxic content. Which, these days, meant that they were both blocked in certain countries, demonetized and sometimes removed all-together, making it quite hard to make any profit off them. A mind-boggling situation, especially when Willow’s content did not seem to be encountering the same problem, though she does edit the point of view to include herself and sometimes even takes out scenes that might be viewed as too controversial or simply – gory. Luke could only wonder if that had something to do with her success. An annoying development, without a doubt. Almost as annoying as reading the comments left on his videos – an activity that always left him shaking with anger. Who knew people on the internet were so mean and angry – calling him all kinds of names and what not, complaining about his editing, the content and everything else that comes to mind. Heck, people even had the nerve to accuse him of plagiarism – with Willow’s footage viewed as the original source. Obviously, the approval ratings on his content were less than satisfactory.
If the matter didn’t demoralize him to the extent of being reluctant to continue with it all, Luke would probably consider uploading his footage on a different, less politically correct platforms, but sadly – those were somewhat illegal and dangerous. There wasn’t much risk of being sought-out by the authorities if you were only browsing, but content creators were a whole different matter. For some reason, there was some sort of a vendetta on them and it simply did not seem worth the risk, especially when he’d probably face many of the present problems he’s facing now regardless.
Finally stopping on that unpleasant thought and suddenly aware of the deep frown that formed between his brows and the piercing ache in his back, Luke decided that a shift in his posture was in order. Thus, with a grunt, Luke straightened his back, twisted a shoulder and lifted-up his phone-holding hand upwards – all to supply a better angle to read from, without putting strain on the upper-spine.
Bad timing, since the scrawny creep failed to notice a lovely female specimen pass by at just about the same time, wearing a fluttering yellow skirt and a light-pink shirt, with the upper two buttons left undone. Quite amazing how the man managed to miss her approach, yet had the time to observe the identified details – no wonder people called him a creep. He looked like one and acted like one. A notion reinforced with a sudden reaction from the passing woman. With a sudden flourish – she snatched away his phone, only to drop it to the ground with great, mobile device shattering force.
“You creep!” – She shouted, as her high-heeled shoe smashed the device until it most definitely was irrecoverable.
With fury in her hazel eyes, she turned her gaze upwards and at Luke, long, wavy golden hair dancing from the movement, while Luke could only gaze back – flabbergasted. Frozen by her gaze, the vision of the depths within – a surging sea of anger and hostility.
“You filth!” – Mercilessly, the insult was thrown at the victim like a slap to the cheek, forceful enough to actually feel the sting – “What gives you the right to take pictures of me, you piece of shit? You have no right to have my physical image to do with as you will!”
The words blurred, while the meaning struck true – right into the very core of his psyche, which resonated like a beaten drum, a sudden heaviness upon his chest rising together with the pulse of his heart. A pulse that pounded in his ears, making the head swim, while in turn – taking away the strength in his legs, making them feel like they were submerged in liquid. Luke’s breaths were getting heavy and cold sweat seeped through every pore he had, for his ire was stirred. Gripped by an ever rising fury and in turn – chained by a fear that rose together with it. A fear for what he might say or do if control was lost, a control that now completely depended on his bodily reaction, the spreading weakness now reinforced by a lump that seemed to be stuck in his throat, preventing Luke from speaking his mind, while bulging eyes stared intensely at the raging woman, who was, luckily, about done and on her way along the hallway.
“…a disgusting piece of … and die alone …!” – Yet, a portion of what was said as a farewell did, regrettably, reach his mind, the lingering bits and pieces somehow forming a connection, creating a resonating effect that broke the dam – keeping the foaming waters of anger at bay.
And so, the lump in his throat was gone.
And so, reason was pushed aside by a great force called “emotions”.
“…are you going to pay for the damages done to my phone?” – Luke inquired in a somewhat shaky voice, as he bent down and picked up what remained of his worldly possession. No doubt too afraid to look at the fury, yet made the mistake of raising his eyes at her while getting up, instead of postponing the action for later, for his gaze did slide along the females legs.
Which did not go unnoticed by her, as she quickly crossed her legs and turned slightly to the side, a hand lowered to stretch the short skirt downwards. A glare beyond the one previously displayed, directed at poor Luke who unconsciously recoiled from it.
“You have some nerve, trying to look under my skirt under these circumstance” – Suddenly, it felt quite chilly in here, as Luke shivered slightly from her tone of voice – “I should file a sexual harassment complaint against you right this instance” – It did seem like Luke made a tactical mistake, for his previous actions made it easy for the opponent to avoid the part about compensation all together.
“What? Look under your skirt? From that angle?” – the absurdity of the accusation was like a cold shower, helping Luke regain his wits, at least enough to construct some sort of verbal defense – the best one his terrible social skills allowed to create, at least – “You’re delusional” – as if to prove their incompetence, those same skills seemed to fail Luke the next moment.
Lips pressed tightly together, the female approached Luke in loud steps, a glare maintained upon him during the whole journey – “Delusional?” – The word was practically spat out – “You think I’m stupid? I saw how you tried taking a picture of me just as I was about to pass. I don’t see how an idiot like you wouldn’t try to peek under my skirt so abrasively”
“Don’t
flatter yourself. You’re not that good-looking” – Luke almost instantly shot back with a frown, only to witness her eyes widen from anger.
“You…to hear that from a creature like you…” – She stammered – “You don’t have the right to judge my looks, while looking like that!” – Only to finish up with a shout of outrage, while directing the attention of an imaginary audience towards Luke’s figure with a delicate, pink-nailed hand. A gesture that the oblivious fellow tried to follow, yet remained unfazed. After all, it wasn’t his work-day, per se, thus he didn’t need to arrive in formal attire. A worn pair of jeans and a stained t-shirt of faded green was perfectly adequate.
“You’re not too smart either, seeing as you destroyed whatever proof you had, to support that ridiculous accusation” – He continued. Not the first time he was called ugly. Instead, he continued on with the assault, making sure to shake the remains of the mobile phone in front of the female for added effect.
“What is going on over here?” – Apparently, their verbal bout did not go unnoticed, as a new participant stepped into the hallway, leaving the place where Luke’s slave-drivers ruled. A middle-aged woman in neat, formal attire – a small stack of papers in hand, while eyes beneath a pair of glasses locked onto Luke’s position.
Her eyebrows furrowed.
Both of the combatants turned, but before Luke could even begin explaining, his newly acquired mortal nemesis stepped up.
“Oh, Jane, I’m so glad you came before this creep could do anything” – She began in a much softer tone, her golden hair rustling from the movement as she stepped away from Luke and towards the new participant, who now turned a stern gaze at Luke.
“Are you actually stupid enough to sexually harass your coworkers in the workplace?” – Wasting no time to put the blame on Luke, Jane inquired in a flat tone.
With widened eyes, the accused could only gape at the two, nerves pulled tight. Slowly, he lifted the remains of the phone till it caught the attention of both females.
“I was arguing with her, because she smashed my phone for no reason” – A sound argument, spoken in a slightly shaky and strained tone.
“I broke your god damn phone because you were taking pictures of me without my permission you filth!” – Yet the angry one did not relent or provide an opportunity for a turn-about.
“You did what?” – And indeed, the accusation seemed to stick, enough to sweep away whatever explanation was provided before. A fact made even more clear when Jane placed a supportive hand on her colleague’s shoulder – a shielding motion, an involuntary message that stated clearly who, in her eyes, was the victim and who was the oppressor.
And the sight was enough to sweep away Luke’s anger, together with all the pent-up emotions that swam about in his head – taking the form of disconnected words and phrases. What remained was simply – heartache. For it was indeed hurtful, to witness his own self so twisted and bent out of shape in the hands of others. To see his own self reflected in their eyes, yet seeing how much was added. How all their worst experiences colored his image pitch-black. Not a speck of light in sight. Not one redeeming quality left. Nothing, but the worst the world had to offer. And yet, it was not the perception of himself relayed by others that finally did it, instead – it was the fact that nobody really put any effort in trying to know him. All they cared about was an opportunity to went, a chance to payback whoever did something to hurt or wound them, regardless of the fact that Wail wasn’t the one responsible. No, he just served as the avatar of all those bad experiences that were like untreated sores and boils, demanding retribution. An easy scapegoat.
People were cruel. Cruel and egotistic. And so was Luke, because cruelty spreads like a yawn, from one person to another, as long as you witness it. Silently, he looked upon the two, eyes eventually lowering to stare at the golden-haired fury. At the vengeful goddess that lashed out everywhere she could.
Apparently his stare was too much to bear, as the target of interest lifted a hand to her chest in an unconscious motion of self-preservation.
“See? He’s vulgar enough to stare at my cleavage even in these circumstance!” – Or was it a calculated maneuver to check-mate him?
Two pair of eyes glared with greater intensity, as an involuntary scoff escaped Luke.
“It’s kinda hard not to, when you’re so god damn short! For peat’s sake, it’s in my peripheral vision whenever I look at you!” – Followed by a flabbergasted exclamation, the feeling spreading to the two females as they gaped back at Luke.
“Short!?” – Seems like he pressed onto a sore spot. Score. – “I’m not short, you’re just too tall, you creep!” – She added teary-eyed.
“Not according to the statistics, I’m not!” – They were in Luke’s territory now. A territory of petty insults and shouting – “My height is average”
“Enough!” – And here comes the party-pooper. Apparently the conflict was beyond ridiculous to Jane, enough to intervene. With loud clacking of heels against the pavement, she approached Luke and pressed a few sheets of paper into his dumbfounded embrace – “I had enough of this nonsense. This is your quota for the upcoming month. Sign it and get the hell out of here before I drag your ass to human resources” – Her tone wasn’t very friendly either.
“But what about my phone!” – It was an opportunity, which Jane so magnanimously provided for Luke. A window of escape with minimal loses. Too bad he wasn’t smart enough to see it.
“Once I’m done with you, the phone will be the least of your worries!” – With outrage, the short-tempered-shorty proclaimed, only to turn around and storm off into the distance.
“Where the hell is she off to?” – Luke smirked, eyes staring at the retreating back of his foe in ridicule.
“Where do you think? To human resources” – Jane explained in a calm tone, only to give Luke a cold stare before turning around and going back to her office – “Don’t forget to bring me the signed forms” – she added, only to disappear behind the glass door soon after.
“The least of my worries, huh? Not if I can help it…” – Luke mumbled under his breath, his feet angling in a hasty step right after the foe, who was presumed to be bested. His destination? Human resources, of course, for Luke genuinely believed that they’d listed to his side of the story.
The naïve fool.
*******
A sparsely furnished room of white walls and hideous modern art - glass figurines and paintings of incomprehensible content scattered about here and there. The dreaded human resources.
Smack in the middle of the room stood a couch, with two chairs placed in front of it – one of which was occupied by a lean man of narrow lips, sharp features and short hair – trimmed and kept neat just like the rest of his formal attire. With a narrowed gaze, the man looked at the two visitors – both seated at the opposite ends of the couch, a small, round glass table standing between him and the two. A pile of papers resting upon its’ transparent surface.
“…took pictures of me and treated me inappropriately and I demand something to be done about it!” – Indeed, it was Luke and his arch-nemesis – the short female, who was busy with carrying out a smear campaign against him.
“Barbara, please, calm down” - With a soothing voice, filled with empathy and kindness, the representative said, his eyes briefly darting towards Luke with a mischievous sparkle. Dave. If Luke had any hope of successfully defending himself before, no such hope was forthcoming once he discovered who was currently free to resolve the conflict. It just had to be the one person in human resource who seemed to absolutely detest Luke’s very presence – “I assure you, sexual harassment will not be tolerated in this work place, no matter the shape or form” – he added strictly, his dark brown eyes now fully on Luke.
“Can I present my side of the story now? Because…” – Luke began, only to be silenced with a wave of a hand, as Dave seemed intent on saying something first.
“Luke, I have to confess. I’ve been
waiting for this moment for a very long time…” – Quite the sinister smile did Dave display – “You see…I’ve warned Jonathan more than once about this, because I knew it was coming” – Slowly, he placed a hand on the pile of papers in front – “Do you know what’s this?” – He inquired with a smirk.
“A pile of papers?” – Luke answered crudely, clearly giving-up on trying to keep it pleasant.
“Funny” – Dave commented in a tone that stated otherwise – “No Luke. This is a pile of complaints. Complaints specifically directed at you and your conduct. Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t been fired already” – He leaned back slightly, only to meticulously even-out the wrinkles in his blazer, eyes turning back at Luke with cold regard – “and that’s about to change”
A chill ran down Luke’s back once he heard the last words, the feeling reinforced by the foreboding tone Dave used.
“What are you implying?” – With a desperate attempt to feign calm on the surface, Luke asked. His voice slightly shaky.
“I told you I’d get you fired, pig” – It was quite hard to do with Barbara throwing about insults, though.
“What do you think?” – Dave asked with mockery – “You’re fired Luke. Pack up your things” – only to slam down the verdict mercilessly and without any visible remorse. On the contrary, he looked at Luke with eyes full of sparkling joy – cruel, cold joy.
“What!? You can’t fire me, you’re not my superior!” – Outraged by the audacity, Luke sat up straight in one swift move, his chin leaning forward as if looking for a fight.
“Who do you think your superiors come to when someone needs to be let go, huh?” – Yet Dave remained unfazed by the emotional response, a corner of his lips rising slightly.
A tense silence followed that rhetorical question, during which the two stared off at each other, while Luke’s facial muscles twitched every now and again.