Ghost Boyfriend

date

"So where's this sweetheart of yours?" I look around the empty lobby. This can't be, where's everyone?

"In there doofus," he points down a white-walled corridor. "This is just where clients wait before they can meet the big bosses. He's upstairs! Come on!" He knows so much, doesn't he? Such a snob.

"Well, Mr Know-it-all, I can't just barge into an office building looking all glumy with no real reason for coming at all. We need to get in somehow. Stall security."

"But how can we do that?" He looks pained and desperate like I've stomped on his gut or something.

I bit my bottom lip, wracking my head. You don't need to be a journalist to go in right? I could act as a newspaper vendor!!

No, no, no yuck. Maybe a reporter. I'd say I come from Massachusetts. Yes. That's a big place, they'd let me in. They'll...

"Excuse me?" A short blob girl interrupts my thought process rudely as I turn to her in panic. A look right and left prove a waste as Mark has once again left me in the lurch. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in with the others or did you not turn in your CV?"

I'm breathing hard. CV? What CV? And then it hits me. s**t! She thinks I'm here for an interview! That explains why she's being so professional otherwise I'd have been shoved out the building instead. "Um... yeah. So sorry I'm late."

"You're in luck. It's been barely three minutes since they started," She looks exhausted, holding up a list. "Julius Kentucky, is that correct?"

"Yeah," I say in a rush, barely thinking it through as she drapes a pretty badge over my neck. "I'd better get going now."

I hurry past the huge security guards, holding my badge up to them in the passing. They grunted as I hurry through the wide corridor with carved paintings on the walls. The building was big enough to hold forty companies without a hitch. I've never been to such a place before. Mark appears beside me and I hiss out. "Thought you wouldn't come back. Now, where's this guy?"

"The first floor,"

The first floor, I memorise like a drug I'm being forced to take. I head for the lifts, smiling at a lady in a booth beside it. At floor one, I get out, finding myself in a very large reception area. This is basically the place where most business deals and transactions in the whole building take place in.

Journalism must be a huge deal if those handling it got to stay in offices like this. A petite lady who I'm placing to be somewhere around nineteen or so is manned atop a granite desk with clients flocking all over her like buzzy bees.

"Let's go!" Mark howls in excitement, moving further down as I'm being jostled, trying to keep up with him. I'm obviously the only one on casual fits as people turn to me curiously every two seconds. I reach a red door and clutch the knob hesitantly. As if propelled by a force behind, I'm pushed into the room.

My mouth falls open.

"Out!" the old lady screams, hurrying to slip her panties back up.

Damn. I swallow hard, shutting the door and glancing up at the 'ladies room' inscription I missed. I hope she doesn't make a fuss out of this. It's not my fault I've got my head up in the wind.

I pad across another empty lobby area where I think Mark must have gone through and duck under a desk. "What's with this hiding of yours?" he booms, appearing beside me. "If we waste a bit more time, we'll lose him."

"I ran into an old lady at the restroom," I say in hushed tones. "She might be on the lookout for me. We have to wait."

I sit still for five minutes before heading out from beneath the desk. The old lady's disappeared and all I can hear is the tip-tap of keyboards, the hum of conversations and the occasional ringing of telephones.

"Where is he?" I demand, turning to Mark.

"Hmm," he pauses thoughtfully, peering about. "I remember seeing him walk down this way and into one of these doors."

He stalks down the blue carpeted corridors and returns beside me, glowing all over. "He's in there! That last door at the right and Gawd! His aura is so powerful. He's mean, but he's also meant for me!"

I cringe, rubbing at my glowing forehead. Mark's giving off bottomy vibes and it's turning my insides out. "What do you mean by that?"

He's blushing. "Well, you know. I'd like him to top me."

"Mark!" I gasp.

"It's just an afterthought. Go on! He's in there! Ask him for me!" he's nudging me. Ugh, what a pest. Luckily, I'm familiar with this format. Enter the room, look for a guy with the meanest eyes, ask him out, he curses and calls security, I run away.

Simple. So simple and Mark would finally stop disturbing me.

Okay, let's make this work.

I feel the blood pulsating around my head as I approach the door, heart thumping with a static rhythm. I convince myself I'll be done in five minutes max, take a big fat breath and practically barge in.

Without a knock.

A sea of eyes turns to look at me. The rooms filled with men in suits and sitting around a black expensive table.

I stare at them, deflated and feeling stupid.

It's a bloody mass interview!! One I shouldn't be in and they're all waiting for me to state my business or join them?

I guess this turned out to be a format after all.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Please carry on." There's a couple of empty seats at the end, close to the front where a man with a goatee talk. Naturally, I pull out one and sit as a really sweet lady with blue hair tips offers me a notepad and pen.

I smile at her in thanks.

This is so surreal. Everyone believes I'm supposed to be here. They're not narrowing their eyes in suspicion or whispering or worse yet, calling security. Which is pretty good so far. I sweep my eyes over the men in survey. They're all good-looking to a nice extent. A blonde guy who looks cute sits across from me, scribbling on a notepad idly. The man talking, though with a goatee looks quite a catch too. They're all handsome and I'm left confused on which one Mark's into. Could it be goatee guy? Or the man on black with a frown behind his expensive dark-tinted shades. No, Mark hasn't such good tastes. I think it's the blonde one which shouldn't be hard. I'll just corner him and ask him out. He does seem every inch gay too, I mean look at that cheeky smile. It's so cute that I want to hug -

Cut the crap, Peter.

Right. I focus on the goatee guy talking.

"Engaging points and accurate notes should be the core principle for you all in this job. Your writing style should be impeccable and neat at all cost. You must pull every audience with the first word of your headline and of course... deadlines. You must manage the stress of the tight schedules - "

"With no excuses," The man with dark shades adds. The room goes dead. "The topic points should be covered accurately and improved in all areas..."

I sigh, turning to glance over at Mark who's looking like a love bitten kitty a hand supporting his jaw.

"Isn't he just the thing? I bet his eyes are blue as the morning sun."

Irritated, I say. "Firstly, the sun isn't blue. Secondly, which guy are we talking about here?"

"The one who's hair shines like the softest wool. The man who's - "

"Real details please,"

"Him!" Mark points to the other side of the table.

"The blonde guy?" I whisper.

"Of course not," he appears right beside the guy with tainted sunshades. "It's him. Isn't he such a love?"

I'm stunned. "Seriously?"

"Is everything all right there Mr?" The sunshades man turns to look at me, the shades pulled down a bit so I can see his blue penetrating eyes.

I babble. "Uh-hum. Don't mind me I'm fine."

Mark returns to my side. "He's such a sweet dumpling. Why don't you like him?"

Alright, I'll try to play fair. The guy's stocky in this sexy kind of way and he's got my toes curling. Penetratingly delicious. He looks so sorry and his hands are firm and strong. He's tanned but ever since I've been here he's been interrupting the goatee guy... he's got a powerful aura, something dark and mysterious about him. Above all of these, I sense his unquantified arrogance.

"Can't you pick the blonde?" I ask Mark impatiently. "He's nice and has blue eyes..."

"I want him,"

My attention is drawn back to the man who's now consulting his watch while standing up.

"I'm sorry Gentlemen, I'll have to dash off now for an important meeting. I'll have Bert put you through the routine tomorrow so be here by ten. Once again it's a pleasure meeting you all."

"He's leaving!" Mark screams. "It's now or never! Go on! Ask him out! You promised me! Get on with it now! Why are you just sitting there like a dweb? Go on! Ask him!"

I jump with the feet with the others, Mark's shrieks resounding in my ear. This is so stupid, he's driving me nuts!

"Fine," I whisper furiously, shuddering. He hovers to the other side of the room and prods me on. "Fast! Get your ass over!!"

Sunshades man is bending slightly to retrieve his briefcase and is turning slowly towards the door which suddenly appears far off.

"Come on! Come on!! Come on!!!" he howls louder this time my eardrums are almost ripping apart, blood coursing down my veins, legs wobbling. I surge forward uncertainly, slamming my face onto his tough shoulder.

He goes still as I balance myself properly. "I'm so sorry, excuse me though."

He turns and pulls off his shades in one swift motion, surveying me with eyes that made my guts turn to butter. "Can I help you? You'll have to excuse me too I'm really in a hurry."

"I just want to ask you one quick question."

Everyone gapes at us, one or two whispering rather loudly. "Who the heck is he? His brother?"

"Don't be silly, he's an only child." one retorts, rolling his eyes.

"Alright. I suppose I could spare some time. Ask away," he's frowning.

"Um... it's just... would you like to go on a date with me?"