His boss

The sky was slowly abandoning its darker hues, melting into the reddish hues of winter mornings as the streets were flooded with masses of commuters and students heading for different destinations via the same streets. Among the millions of faces characterized by the same expression of profound impatience, it was possible to see Arthur Roberts walking at a rapid pace towards a building with an imposing air. The thirty or so floors, whose mirrored glass glistened with the little light of dawn, monopolized the attention of the spectator, taking his eyes away from the monotonous urban landscape. The briefcase, always with him, swung from side to side in a hypnotic motion, repetitive, perfectly calculated, as the step of the man who carried it Inside it, next to a fountain pen, glasses and a spare shirt, there was a printed copy of the confirmation email of the job interview that he would have in three minutes. Although in his life he had always arrived on time, that day the train had arrived ten minutes late, destroying his well-established schedule. Not slowing down, he walked towards the entrance, quickly asked the caretaker where he should go and took the elevator. Despite the most banal expectations, the director’s office was not on the top floor, occupied by the archives, but on the 27th. The interview was at the fifteenth, in the meeting room. Although the journey was shorter than he had expected, it seemed unusually long, as the second hand ran, mercilessly, toward the minute change. As soon as the elevator doors opened, he rushed out, almost running towards the door. The secretary’s desk was empty, except for a note he’d scribbled on that she’d be back soon. For a second, Arthur froze, uncertain. The time was running out, and the secretary was not coming back. Desperate, he looked at the office door, deciding to risk it. Grasping the handle, he pushed firmly, straightened his shoulders and tried not to make his breathlessness noticed. About twenty eyes fell on him as he realized his mistake. Because of the anxiety he had totally forgotten that his watch was constantly five minutes ahead and of course the room was currently used for a meeting. "Good morning, if you’re here for the interview I think you’ve arrived too early. You can wait outside" Arthur nodded and left without saying a word, sitting on a chair in the waiting room and trying to put back in his place the mask of coldness he used to have in the workplace, momentarily cracked by the embarrassment that was creeping on his cheeks. Exactly five minutes later, the door opened, ten well-dressed men slipping out, a voice quietly saying: "Come in" Now, sitting at the head of the table, the same man who had before invited him to wait outside, was looking at him with a smirk on his face. for a moment Arthur forgot why he came to that office in the first place. "Will d***s" When he heard the old nickname, he glared at the other. "It’s always nice to see you Arthur, I see you’ve never matured in these years, but please sit down" He said, pointing to the chair to his right. Arthur sat stiffly in the chair, looking at what had been his worst rival for all of high school. William Dixon was what you might call the perfect student: always impeccable, great in study and a little less with girls. Nevertheless, his appearance and innate gallantry had always earned him more than a couple of admirers. Her dark brown hair, previously kept long and tight in a ponytail, were now cut short and perfectly combed, just below two beautiful green eyes poorly concealed the true emotions of the owner, while the face always pale remained impassive. His dress seemed made to measure, his shoes seemed to have been recently polished and with his right hand, wrapped in a black leather glove, he held documents probably from the meeting that Arthur had previously interrupted. "So, you came here, you interrupted my meeting, you insulted me, and yet you expect me to be ready to hire you as my subordinate?" The weight that William had willingly put on the last word had sent a shiver of annoyance down Arthur’s back, who was doing everything he could not to prove his growing discomfort. "I believe that this is a job interview and therefore that it serves to establish it" Their looks met, until Arthur was forced to turn away, feeling in awe. Despite the confidence he was displaying, Arthur was well aware that he was moving on a thin blade. William smiled, waving his hand and leaning against the back of the chair. "Perfect. Then we should start." -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. At the end of the interview Arthur was sure to be a disaster. The carefully thought-out questions and those eyes on him gave him the feeling of being more of a guinea pig than a possible employee. When he heard the "I expect you at 8 tomorrow at the office" he was sure he had sighed of relief. Sitting on the station bench, he let his mind go back almost ten years. It was a sunny day in May and at the second hour there would be a physical test. A group of boys were waiting for him just beyond the gate, smiling and urging him to hurry. Who knows what they were called. Then, out of nowhere, William Dixon approached him with that cheeky smile. "I hope you intend to do it again this time, Roberts. It was really humiliating to see you drop to a seven last time..." Arthur forced a smile, raising his chin and trying to look at the other without letting him see when he had that comment. "Well, d**k, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so easy to show my face around after almost passing out at Millie’s party over a couple of beers. I almost felt sorry..." After a few seconds of silence, William nodded and set off. "Then see you in class, princess" In spite of everything, he still had red cheeks when he took a cigarette to his mouth, blaming the anger and insulting him repeatedly under his breath. McGregor, meanwhile, chuckled. Arthur didn’t feel comfortable calling him a friend, but any other definition might seem inadequate. He was a squat boy, muscular and with two eyes characterized by the opacity that distinguishes the poor logic. One should not, however, think that this lack of ingenuity was due to the absence of intelligence. He certainly did not excel in any matter, but remained in those intermediate vows that do not bring glory or dishonor. Sometimes he was delayed, but the news slipped on his skin, not affecting his usual good mood. In the eyes of an outsider it would have seemed a banal boy, but over the years Arthur had learned to appreciate the banality and all those little things he brings with him. It was he who gave him his first cigarette. It was with him that he had drunk for the first time at a party. Nevertheless, he would have entrusted his life to McGregor because simplicity often brings with it a strong loyalty and he was the first example. His mood was generally cheerful, though he could sometimes be seen to be dark in his face and not speak for days. Arthur once found him just behind the school, smoking and looking up at the sky. "Tell me, Art, do I look stupid?" Arthur looked at him, then approached him and leaned against the sharpened wall. "Greg, you’re one of the most popular people" McGregor shook his head. "No, Art, I don’t want the usual bullshit. I’m not as brilliant as you or Dixon, but until today I didn’t think I was that stupid." After a moment of silence, Arthur laughed. "God, Greg, no! I definitely don’t think you’re stupid. You won’t be brilliant sometimes, but definitely stupid no." McGregor nodded, seemed calmer, though not entirely convinced. "Are you gonna say something?" Arthur looked at him perplexed. "To whom?" "A Dicks." Arthur looked at him, shocked. "I not" "Stop being a hypocrite, Art. If you don’t think I’m an i***t, don’t deny something so obvious." Arthur sighed, deciding to stop and look at the ground. The yellow winter meadow seemed much more interesting to him than the answer he should have given. By now it was February and soon it would have changed color, becoming of that intense emerald green, dotted with flowers. "And what’s the point? Can’t you see he’s got a thing for Marylin? It would be useless and I don’t think I’m ready to ruin my reputation for it." McGregor nodded thoughtfully as he put his cigarette out on the wall. "Whatever happens, know that it is not important what that bastard might say, but that you accept that you cannot avoid what you feel". Arthur smiled at him, putting his arm on his shoulders and starting to walk with him. "See? How could a fool give such advice?" For the first time in weeks Arthur heard McGregor laughing from his heart. Striking a strand of blond hair from his face and lighting a cigarette, Arthur shook his head at the memory. The thought that at some point he had fallen in love with William still made him blush. But, on the other hand, it was rare to have someone on your level and it was even rarer that that someone was also attractive. Sighing, he got on the train, letting his eyes sweep across the landscape, thinking of everything and nothing as the city disappeared, leaving room for the countryside, tormented by the memory of two green eyes and that old ponytail. He didn’t know that, behind his desk, William was thinking about him, too. Standing up, in fact, he went towards the window, thoughtful, looking at the city that seemed to live below him, that pulsated like a heart, like a unique living being and not like different individuals. After all, there was not much difference between humans and ants: millions of equal beings who worked without knowing why, who toiled worshipping false gods, who died, were born and led monotonous lives designed for them. Half an hour later he was on the street, shivering slightly because of the cold wind, heading towards the cafeteria in front of his office. Once he sat down he stopped to watch the smoke rising from the cup. I wonder if Arthur had stopped smoking. Every morning he stood in front of the door with a damn cigarette and every damn time he had to stop himself from ripping it out of his mouth. If only it hadn’t been for McGregor, who followed him throughout the school, like a hound following a selfless master. He always thought their relationship was strange. Maybe Arthur needed someone scary by his side, maybe he was just alone. It was pointless to think, William knew he would never understand Arthur Roberts. He carelessly played with his tongue ring. That morning he forgot to take it off and walking around the workplace with that little stud in his mouth made him feel uncomfortable, as if he was mixing two worlds that should have always been distinct. He took a sip of coffee and giggled at the thought that as soon as he finished his studies he would like to become a musician, perhaps a university. Instead, he found himself in the family business, with the only prospect of success inside and stopping once at the top. I wonder if Arthur had gone to college. He probably would have done psychology or economics, like Marylin. Marylin Watson was a third-year-old girl when they met. She had a dazzling smile, but other than that no noteworthy qualities. He had a terribly sharp voice and excessive delicacy. Despite his cold manners, he never tired of him, remaining as a silent shadow at his side, watching him while he was in full success, as he was left behind. Marylin, however, knew what he was and said it with gentle and simple gestures, which gave him the tranquility he was looking for. Whether it was passing him a joint or giving him a lighter or smoking with him on a roof, she was always there. Yet somehow he wasn’t sure he loved her. She had been with him a couple of years, it had lasted much longer than the others, but definitely could not fit into the description of love. Everything he had experienced did not seem to fit in. Before Marylin there was a girl without a face or a name who went to the nearby school, even before Carl’s sister and, first of all, Lisa, but none had ever been enough. After the coffee, he quickly paid the bill, returning to the office. In spite of everything, he still had a long working day ahead of him and some of the commitments could not be postponed. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. Arthur woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache. Turning off the alarm clock and making his way to the bathroom. At exactly 6:35 he had finished brushing his teeth and ten minutes later he was struggling, trying to tie his tie properly. Passing by the coffee table in the living room, he looked at the abandoned bottle of Scotch whisky, cursing himself mentally for letting go again. He took his wallet, keys and left the house, heading to the station to catch the 7:00 train. He arrived at the office five minutes early, saying goodbye to Anthony, the caretaker, heading for the 27th floor. He approached the secretary, before freezing, stunned. "Allison?" The woman looked up and when she saw her former college friend, she lit up with a smile that she had dedicated to him for years. "Arthur Roberts! Good to see you again! Haven’t seen you since freshman year..." Arthur smiled, embarrassed to have forgotten what had been for him a precious friend. Allison had not always been pleasant. For her high school years she had always been unbearable for everyone. The problem was that she wanted attention that she couldn’t get if she didn’t do scandals, so she decided to do it. The smallest news could become the biggest gossip of the school in a few days thanks to her. Still, she wasn’t bad, maybe just a little lonely. She didn’t smoke, and every time she drank a sad shadow, it fell on her face, making her unusually quiet, almost thoughtful. They had not been friends in those years: he had never asked her what saddened her so much and she never spread the word of his interest in William. It was a clear deal. Last year, one night, they found themselves in a bar. She had already been drinking for a while and her eyes looked without seeing the alcohol lined up behind the counter. He had a terrifying expression, that seemed cinerary, of stone and that collected in itself a pain that he did not think bearable by a human being. Arthur said nothing, sat down next to her and took a whiskey. When they had finished they went out, letting the shop close, to watch the first lights of dawn. They were both walking on the sidewalk. Her black hair loose on her shoulders, her body dangerously swinging from side to side at every step. Mentally, only "right, left, right, left" began to repeat itself, hypnotized by the thin ankles struggling to stay still in ridiculously high heels. For the first time they really talked, even if there were no words. For the first time, she realized how beautiful Allison was, how much potential she had in life, even though she wasn’t particularly brilliant or good at something. For a moment he felt left behind by those around him, then he walked home. "Good morning Arthur, I see you’ve met Allison" Turning around, Arthur found himself a few inches from William. He looked strangely untidy for him. It wasn’t the total look, plus the little details like the bad tie and the red eyes. "Will- Mr. Dixon, good morning" The brunette smiled, starting to walk towards the office, stopping after a few steps and putting a hand on his shoulder. "'Mr. Dixon' doesn’t sound so bad, but 'boss' would be even better said by you. Ah, and when you’ve finished your reunion meet me at the office " That said he disappeared behind the dark door. Arthur was sure that the generally pale complexion of his cheeks had become more like red. After this there was a long minute of silence, before he turned again, finding himself face to face with Allison. "Willy? You still calling him Willy?" Arthur sighed, giggling to ward off embarrassment. "It’s just an old habit! And then I started working here today, it’s natural not to be used to thinking about your former high school buddy as a boss!" Allison glanced at him, sitting on his desk and crossing her arms. "So you’re over it?" "Absolutely yes " "All right, Roberts, I’ll pretend I don’t see the particular color in your cheeks." Flicking at her, Arthur walked to the door of William’s office. The office was spacious, the mahogany furniture stood against the white walls, and the huge window behind the desk gave a sense of vertigo. "Have a seat" The brown voice distracted him from the office, making him concentrate on the figure sitting behind the desk. Slowly he sat down, waiting for the other to start talking. In silence the other stood up and began to walk around the room, pausing in front of the window. "I’d like to give you a promotion" The phrase made Arthur’s eyes widen. This was not something he had planned or would have expected. "As my workload increased greatly and I was advised in yesterday’s meeting to find a personal assistant, I decided that you would be the correct person. Don’t worry, the salary will be increased by 65%, but if you need a further increase, don’t hesitate to ask. Questions?" Arthur, for once in his life, didn’t know what to say. He just denied it with his head. "Perfect! Then on the desk you find the contract to sign" Arthur picked it up and quickly read it, then looked for the pen he always kept in his pocket, failing to find it. He was so focused on the absence of the pen that he did not notice that William had managed to move behind him and was offering his own with a gentle smile. "Need a pen?" "Yes, thank you" For a few seconds Arthur let himself be drowned in the perfume of fine cologne soaked in the other man’s perfectly ironed shirt. Although years had passed, William continued to be terribly beautiful and decidedly aware of the things that can be achieved with such qualities. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. William stretched himself in the chair, looking at the clock. The day had been over for half an hour and the building was slowly emptying. Stretching he got up, took his jacket and went down to the floor zero. From there he simply slipped into the streets and walked home. His car had remained in the parking lot of the company and the next morning he knew he would hate his idea of walking home, but at the time he just needed fresh air to clear his head. Arthur turned out to be an excellent assistant, flawless even. Punctual, precise, he always left his post tidy and did not take unnecessary breaks. He hadn’t really changed since high school: he always carried this desire to be perfect, to be the best. It was almost ridiculous that he had seen an enemy in him. When he got home, he put the key in the lock on the second attempt, closed the door behind him, left his jacket on the sofa and slipped into the shower. As soon as he left, he turned on a washing machine with the shirt he had worn, went to the kitchen to eat an apple and then retired to his room, opening a unique wardrobe set in the wall. Smiling, he began to dress. He felt in his natural element when the piercings were in place, when instead of an elegant jacket he felt the heaviness of a skin on his shoulders. He walked past a mirror, slightly dished his hair and went out again, going to his usual bar. The warm and soft light gave him a sense of tranquility, the round and low tables, the poker game in the right corner that seemed to never stop, the smoke of cigarettes that soaked the wood and the music at a low volume meant that he could feel at home. The bartender came up with a dazzling smile on her face and in her hands a Bloody Mary. Her wavy red hair framed a beautiful, but banal, definable face and two eyes that revealed a limited intelligence. Responding to the smile, William accepted the drink. "I guess you’re Will. Jack told me you wanted a Bloody Mary and asked me to bring you a message." The brown man nodded, taking a sip from his glass and weighing the woman with his eyes. Despite his extreme banality, it could not be said that he was not attractive. "What must old Jack say to me so urgently" "He said to tell you that 'the next time you disappear for weeks without saying anything is ready to kill you or to stick on your corpse'" She answered, trying to stay serious. Will chuckled and leaned slightly forward on the stool. "Well, if I had known he had taken on such a splendor, I would have come sooner" In the end it was nothing new: he met an attractive girl, he took her for a ride, maybe they smoked together, but then he irremediably got tired and broke off every relationship, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. Not that it was his intention to be like that. He was just bored with all those people who would try to prove that they were on his level. It was a strange ritual that haunted him. Marylin was only a junior, but somehow she got into Arthur Roberts' circle. She did not excel in any matter, she was not engaged and more than once her having her head in the clouds was annoying. More than once he had paused to think what it would be like to put your hands in the short chestnut locks, talk to us together or take a walk. He wasn’t in love, they said, just curious. She just wanted to know more about that strange figure, how she managed to get so far into the school hierarchy by starting with so little. Despite this, William did not expect to find her at the gate alone waiting for him. "Hey, you’re William, right? Fourth grade?" Will nodded, stuttering a greeting. She moved a strand of hair from her face slightly blushing. Since when could brown eyes be so beautiful? They looked like amber in the morning sun and Will realized he couldn’t stop looking at them. "Look, I know this sounds strange, but would you be willing to help me in physics? I can’t afford any more bad grades..." He finally managed to mentally compose a sentence of complete sense, despite feeling his cheeks begin to blush. "I hear Arthur is also very good at physics..." She snorted, glancing at him who seemed to want to pass through. "After the last check his average is down to eight, yours remains stable all year round to nine and a half, do not think that I do not know" Will nodded, feeling a sense of satisfaction in knowing the annoyance he had given to the blond. The same afternoon he found himself in the girl’s room, trying to explain the arguments. Annoyed by yet another failed attempt, she threw herself on the bed, rummaged through a drawer and lit a cigarette. After a few puffs he stopped, getting up to sit and looking at him. "Does it bother you?" Will laughed at his innocence. "Actually, I wanted to ask you for a shot." With a smile she clapped her hand on the bed next to her, inviting him to sit down and hand him the cigarette. It wasn’t much. The ashtray was a can of gum, the cigarette was definitely not enough for two people, but silence and tranquility did the rest. When he realized he was kissing her, it was too late. He had just decided to end relationships for a while and here he is again in a room with terrible blue walls kissing Marylin. For the rest of the afternoon they laughed at stupid jokes, ending up kissing each other whenever they forgot what they laughed at and talking about millions of things and nothing at the same time. Loneliness tastes different in company. No one was really surprised when they started dating at school. No one but Arthur, who every time he saw them sitting together or holding hands, barely held a grimace of contempt. William did not believe that Marylin was so important to him, yet every time he met his eyes he could swear to see a hint of pain in the midst of contempt. But life went on, banal and less and less enlivened by the clashes with Arthur, who suddenly closed in an unusual silence, trying to avoid it. After just two weeks, William was sure to miss him, though he didn’t know why. At the end of a cloudy Thursday, he decided to follow the blond who slipped out of class almost trying not to be seen. So, hiding behind the hedge that divided the school from the street, he found him sitting and smoking, closing his eyes as he exhaled. "What on earth made you follow me, Dixon?" For a moment Will didn’t know what to say, he just stood there and watched the boy sit. The shirt of the crumpled uniform let glimpse part of the pale chest from the space left by two buttons untied like the tie that remained attached to the neck in a wide, almost lascivious way. "What ever made you avoid me, Roberts?" Both remained for long moments in silence, before Arthur began to laugh bitterly. "You seem to be missing me..." Then he inhaled his last shot and put out his cigarette on the ground. "Maybe it really is" Arthur looked him in the eyes. In that blue sky there was a bittersweet pain. Sitting next to him, Will remained silent watching the clouds. He didn’t know that for one second Arthur had really believed that fate had smiled at him and the second after his dream had collapsed in front of him. But William didn’t know, he would never know. William was what he could not have. It was what made him helplessly shake his hands on the sheets as he choked the hiccups. Because William was in love with Marylin. Because that’s what he should have done of course, because everything in him was screaming that perfection existed, everything seemed to remind him of his vices, of what he shouldn’t have wanted. He would never be William Dixon, he would never be the perfect guy, however much he wanted to be. One city away, Arthur was holding a bottle in his hand, sitting on his couch. He was sure his face was wet. Maybe he was crying, maybe he was just hot, maybe he got his face wet. He didn’t remember. The only thing he was sure of was that the bottle was full at the beginning of the evening and now the liquid dangerously swung close to the label. He laughed at nothing, then sighed, seized by the senseless sadness that too often accompanies alcohol. The dark room was illuminated by the screen of the phone left unlocked on a chat that now had only messages sent. Arthur Roberts was not perfect, but in the last few days he had only managed to sink more seriously into the vices that before haunted him and to find himself stuck in a melancholy without source. How can you cast out a sadness that is given by nothing? A slight pain at the height of the chest made sure to remind him that something was wrong, something stung, tortured him, made him bleed inside, but he was so blind that he could not see it. He only hoped he hadn’t fallen in love. Innammorati are too often the cause of their own pain. It was better to suffer at the hands of others than to be executioners of one’s own heart, torturers of one’s own soul. She distractedly looked at the amber liquid rocking, then closed the bottle and laid it down. Perhaps that evening she would reach the bed. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. Marilyn disappeared one day. On the first day William almost did not notice her absence. The second noticed that he could not distinguish his brown hair in the crowd of students. The third began to feel that loneliness he had so well cast out for years. Eventually, he decided to ask McGregor if he knew she was ill, as he was her most trusted friend. "She moved with her family. She told everyone, but it seems not to you" Meanwhile, leaning against a locker, Arthur was looking at him and Will expected a sharp comment or a joke about the fact, but remained silent watching him, while the other guy saw the world collapse. He calmly went into a bathroom, but once inside the calm broke, as he leaned against a sink and started to cry .