Mr. CEO is a Psychopath

Seventeen

She spends the day exactly how she would on her birthdays … trying a lot of things new, and crossing things off her bucket list in New York with all she can fit in one day.

Clay went bowling, and she got scolded for lifting the ball high instead of rolling it. It caused a loud bang in the lane, garnering all of the others' attention on her. And judging from their reaction, she presumes it was unpleasant to the ears and their hearts, as they looked absolutely concerned about the condition of the lane, and thankfully, it wasn’t broken nor cracked because that, she would have a lot more to deal with than just receiving proper reprimanding from the place’s manager.

Mostly for the day, she tried different food; Indian, Japanese, and Filipino cuisine- some unexpectedly pleasant albeit different, some taste like something she doesn’t understand, and right now, her belly is filled with various types of food, mixing in, and she feels like vomiting from eating too much. She has no regrets though.

Usually, she does all of these with her parents and her friends.

The first year Clay Cassidy got to spend her birthday here in New York, you could say she was paralyzed. Having no strength or will to do something in the city, as she was filled with loneliness. For the first time in her life, she got to celebrate her birthday alone. No newer experiences she could get to spend with her family and friends, and surely, she felt they could understand why she felt so dejected. Though she got a different reaction, instead.

One verbal reprimand from her mother, saying with eyebrows furrowed, “you do not spend your day all curled up like that, young lady.”

“New York has so much wonder, things you could ever see nowhere else in this world. So much more to experience than you could have here. And you know that, child." Of course, she knows. Clay dreamed of these places more than once. Maybe because everything is so out of her comfort zone that getting accustomed to the place is getting longer than she expected. Her thoughts were cut off by her mother's voice, adding sternly, “stop moping around, you move your ass up, and enjoy your day. Do you understand?

"Mom..." she says, inarticulate for a moment because of something she just heard, "did you just say ass-"

"I didn't," her mother denies as fast as it came.

"You did!" One word was enough to brighten her mood. Her mother never swears after all. Well, at least not in front of her children. Clay overheard her on the phone once, colorful words coming out of the old woman in succession, even words not in Clay's foul-filled dictionary. It was the first time she saw her mother that angry.

A brief sharp sound made by the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts, indicating that she has reached the floor that she wanted to be in.

Ever since what happened then, knowing her family would feel better, and herself, of course, she always tried to spend her days like this- visiting breathtaking places, experiencing the beauty of this world she is now in.

And it's beautiful, alright, that is no doubt, more as she takes in Summit one Vanderbilt, the highest observatory in Manhattan's midtown East, New York. It's an art in its own way, empirical and tangibly real.

Clay steps into what looks like glass and mirrors, some anxious part of her fears that the glass might c***k and break, as delicately pristine and fragile it looks. This anxiety is mostly caused by watching too many movies, especially final destination movies, her all-time favorite.

Most of her, though, is only exhilarated by how everything feels. She feels as if she is as high as this building, standing at the apex, above skyscrapers. People are merely nothing but tiny little moving specks on the ground. The sight of flashing lights, in all different tones of light, different intensities, like stars.

And the best part is the mirrors, reflecting everything that she sees below, above her head. Clay Cassidy feels like walking across the sky as it folds around her.

It's amazing, she thought, wide eyes gazing relentlessly for miles of New York. Now that she sees it like this, her passion for the place has been renewed. People and the towering heights of this place are no longer so intimidating, after all.

She feels her left-hand itch and all she wants to do is paint everything in front of her.