3: A Chance
2103 Words
“Lucien? Hey, man, sorry for what I did earlier. Come on, I'm just joking around, eh...” Hunter continued whining, rather in guilt, with a pout as he took the swivel chair across Count's table, sitting himself with a visible bothered expression to his friend's dead silence
(Count was silent most of the time, though, a man who only spits a few words as his reaction. However, he was acting quote uncharacteristically right now.)
“I didn't mean to go that far. Sorry, Lucien—”
“I'm not in the mood to talk about it right now,” Count replied, with pupils dilated and a disturbed look, his arms subconsciously managed to crawl up his temple to give its throb some soothing massage and ease its tension— a habit he developed whenever he would be put in a very engaging and draining turmoil inside his head.
Maxien Alforque.
Count didn't know how that girl, in their first meeting, managed to turn the roller coaster of his emotions on and let it slide up and down roughly, completely out of his control, over his understanding's reach.
Was it Maxien? Or it's actually the past that kept on haunting him? The exact answer lies in the back of his mind, he was sure it was intact and hidden, just cannot be retrieved behind the trauma and pain either of it might trigger.
He knew he wasn't imagining things, wasn't he? He did see it right, didn't he? That wasn't just on his mind, or was it?
Years has passed. Fifteen years, to be precise.
Yet, the clear memory still has itself tatted on his mind, the way black and colored inks were tatted in his arm, covering a vital mark that runs their world's system.
It's been years, yet, he has never found peace.
And, yet again, the situation that's ‘enough’ to settle with, at least for him, would be ruined in one great wreck because of Maxien. Just because of one girl.
“Lucien. Tell me I'm not just being delusional, man. I'm pretty sure you also... saw that. Right?” Hunter exclaimed, “Because I saw it clearly. Man, if any, I've known you for a long time to the point your Mom trusts me enough that she let me see pictures of your matching mark — now covered — with you-know-who. And Maxien has the same—”
“Cut it. I don't want to hear nonsense.”
“But, man—”
“Ms. Alforque is already engaged and I only met her today. Off limits and professionalism, Hunter. You said it yourself, you don't ruin relationships and wreck homes, so stop pushing that agenda because so am I. The woman is getting married soon, with her soulmate because she has one. I have mine, too, but you already know that Kiara is long gone!” He yelled, startling the assistant and making Hunter step back a little.
Realizing how he's already losing control over the mention of Kiara and all the possibilities that has emerged upon Maxien Alforque's arrival, Count cleared his throat and looked away in shame, still feeling the piercing gaze of a concern friend.
“It's getting you all stuffed and riled, Lucien. That alone must be a sign of something. F*ck the system, your happiness matters more—”
“And if it is, what do you want me to do? Tell me and maybe I'll take your advice, Hunter,” Count challenged with a bitter smirk Hunter couldn't quite decipher and read the extensions, “Can't you see my arm? Covered with tattoos, there's no way she'll believe it if I introduce myself as someone who has the same mark.”
“Lucien—”
“Go back to work. I'm not paying you to gossip around.”
“D*mn, if you say so. I hope you regret not risking a try sooner or later,” Hunter could only sigh in defeat and shake his head while storming off Count's room with a mixture of confusion and disappointment in his face, walking to his office just next-door and leaving the CEO by himself as the latter wished.
“F*ck it,” Count growled bitterly the moment Hunter has departed, the moment he heard the door slam close.
He hardly slammed on his desk. If it was another moment, he would have grunted at the sting on his palms.
God d*mn. The pain seemed nothing compared to his internal bleeding.
He then grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling it as hard as he can. Just so he could feel. Feel whatever. Feel anything other than the clenching of his chest.
Anything other than the breaking of his heart.
Anything other than the pinching sensation as the memories from fifteen years ago when he lost Kiara started to flash back in his consciousness like it was a broken film being played mercilessly with him stuck and tied in a theater's seat, screaming inaudibly, suffering incredulously, weakly trying to force himself out of the traumatic place, but to no avail.
~
“Waaaaaaiitttt!”
Snap.
The next thing Count knew after escaping his reverie, there was a hand between the elevator's doors, forcing it to slide open once more and reveal the annoying voice's owner.
Count rolled his eyes and almost growled in annoyance as the brightly smiling face greeted him early in the morning.
Didn't she know about personal space?
He shook his head in disappointment.
From when the girl shamelessly bothered his stone cold face in the newbie's first day, would it still be possible to just even hope for morning peace in the office? For all the people in the building giving him a way like usual? For everyone to avoid him, leave him be, and go on with their daily tasks and jobs for their due's and bills' payments?
Most likely, no.
And there he was again, stuck in a small space with Maxien Alforque, the subject of his delirious internal cries, the reason of his past trauma's current attacks.
“Ah, I'm glad I made it on time. Your steps are too fast for my weak and short legs, Sir,” Maxien chortled weakly as she continued to chase her breath in successive pants. “Good morning, Mr. Valdemor, Sir.”
Count side-eyed the nearly passing girl, a slight line of worry has flashed in his orbs for a moment, before he frowned with a judgemental glare.
Why would this girl even use her utter speed to catch up with him if she could have just taken it easy and waited for the next ride up?
It's not like it'll take her an hour for her to be late, especially when they still have — Count looked down his wrist watch — fifteen minutes before the working hours start.
“Not even one answer? You're so silent, Sir, too silent. Aren't you in the mood today? The sun's bright and lovely outside, isn't it?” smiled Maxien as she slowly gained composure from shamelessly making her way across the building to catch the same elevator as the CEO. “Sir?”
“Huh... huh?”
It was like a sudden loud slap, and Count snapped out of subconsciously staring at the girl.
D*mn. He thought to himself. How was the sun even retaining its audacity to shine if a smile this bright exists, will probably overpower the star's providence of light—?
“You're... spacing out, I think?”
“No,” he insisted in defense.
How long did he stare for Maxien Alforque to even call him out— nevermind.
He suddenly felt a rush of awkwardness in the small space, tinting his face a sense of worry that he might do something dumb and idiotic to completely make a fool of himself in front of the girl.
Knowing himself, he was never good with socializing and wording himself properly in a not-so-rude manner.
Why did he have to get stuck in this confining situation? When did he even give anyone — aside from Hunter — an unsaid permission to invade the personal space he has caged himself and bounded everyone else from stepping in?
Why did it seem so easy for Maxien to maneuver around his intimidating stance? Why did it seem so simple for the girl to deal with him?
If not with the out of the blue announcement yesterday about Maxien's personal life, he would have thought something's off with this girl and he's obviously feeling a pull— ERASE! He shouldn't be thinking about the possibility involving their birthmarks.
“Ah, Sir... by the way... coffee?” Maxien turned to the CEO with a shy, but hopeful, glance, “I just... thought I'd bring you one again... to apologize for my rude behavior yesterday. I didn't know you're... the boss—”
“Just fine,” Count waved his hand, no, he didn't need any apology.
If one of them needed to say sorry, it should be him, alongside Hunter. Even if Maxien hasn't acted any bothered with the questions yesterday, it could have left an unseen effect on her and the balance in the workplace.
Even if it wasn't Count's fault in any way, he still felt responsible and guilty for possibly causing an uncomfortable relationship with the newbie.
“I'm sorry, I almost spilled it, though, because I ran to get to the same ride as you. Please, Sir, take it,” she pouted.
All right.
Count reached forward and accepted the drink.
“Why didn't... those people come in, though? There is so much space here...”
Don't ask me no stupid questions. Count wanted to spat, but he refrained himself.
Of course, they wouldn't be in the same ride as him. Hunter was the only person allowed, the only fearless one who tried to do so before.
“Ms. Alforque, no one wants to be in the same space as me,” he stated in a matter of fact tone.
There wasn't any reason to sugarcoat words and make up stories.
If fearing him would push Maxien away just too, then it's even better!
“Huh...?” Maxien turned to him with a questioning look, “If it's okay to ask, Sir, why? Are you some kind of a murderer when left with people...?”
“I don't know, either.”
“Ah, I think I know why!” As if a light bulb suddenly lit up above the girl's head, her fingers clicked and she added, “It's because you can't even wear a small and friendly smile. They are afraid of you. You should smile more often, Sir. Maybe they'll treat you differently and you can make friends.”
“I don't need them,” Count replied nonchalantly.
Now when will this be over—?
As if on cue, the elevator's door slid open.
Thank God. He didn't know if he would still last without lashing out his frustrations and weird feelings in front of Maxien.
“If they don't want to, then I'll willingly take the same ride as you everyday, Sir. If that's fine with you, of course. You won't feel lonely again. You know, it'll be scary if you get stuck in the elevator alone,” the girl grinned.
“No, thanks.”
“Then, a ride with one cup of coffee a day will probably do. I'll catch you tomorrow, Sir,” Maxien insisted, “Let's work hard today, too, Sir!”
“No—”
Before Count could resist once more, Maxien Alforque ran out and disappeared from Count's sight.
“No problem,” he mumbled lowly.
Unconsciously, his lips moved to an upward curve.
Silly...
He was silly to even think that, maybe, he could also make an exception for Maxien just like he did for Hunter years ago. Maybe he could let the girl enter his life, not as someone else more than a friend like some would expect a boy to do, but a simple someone he could keep for company and unrivaled comfort just by being in her presence.
With the unknown tingles in his left chest, a new feeling other than the excruciating pain he often felt whenever he would remember Kiara, he was a fool to think that nothing would go wrong if he simply hoped to keep Maxien close. As a friend. Nothing more than that.
At least that was what he thought by that time... not knowing about what the fate has interestingly laid for the both of them in the future.
- Writer
