MY LOVE UNENDING

1 JADE I swallowed my annoyance as Shane noisily pulled out the chair beside me, causing the heels to screech against the floor. He rattled through his backpack, pulling out notebook after notebook, a bundle of biros, an entire packet that must have held at least 20 pencils. I smirked. “The dumb ones always make the most fuss.” I mumbled. “What? Did you say something to me?” Even his voice was irritating. I looked up at him, rolled my eyes, shook my head, and returned my attention back to Mr Henry in front of the class who was teaching us Geography. His spread out his pack of pencils and shifted some of his books from his table to mine. It took all the strength in me not to slam my hands on the table and shove him away. “Please keep your books on your own table.” I whispered loudly, stopping myself from hissing at him. He blinked at me, as if what I just said was the strangest thing ever, then nodded after a few seconds, and shifted his books back to his table. I shook my head again and sighed. I glanced at the camera men standing quietly, some steps away from Shane's and my table, capturing our little banter on camera. “God please don’t let me regret this.” I said to myself. It was only the first day of the documentary, and already things were going a-wire. Shane was more annoying than I had imagined, just his presence beside me was irritating. He was dosing through three-quarter of the first period, and when he wasn’t, he was fondling with his pencils, drawing stupid images in a drawing book. It’s no surprise he’s the poorest student in the class. He had zero interest in learning anything and God knows if not for this documentary, I would never have had to speak a word with the likes of him till I graduated. But here I was, stuck with this irresponsible dullard till the end of the semester. At first, it had sounded like the most stupid idea. A documentary showing the behaviors and interactions of the best and worst students in a class during their last semester in high school. For one, I’m not interested in being in a documentary, secondly, I would rather not have to interact with the worst student in my class, but Mr Ward, our class advisor had assured me that I was going to get paid a good sum for participating in this documentary, and I could always use a little extra cash. Life was tough enough with me struggling so hard to be tops in my class while also juggling two jobs at the same time. And even with my grandmother pushing herself to the edges by working as a cleaner for a hotel in the morning, a cook in the evenings and a baby sitter during the weekends, money was still extremely tight for us. We were barely surviving. I could not turn down any opportunity to make extra cash, so here I was, sitting beside the dullest human of my class in St. Clare’s Community School, hoping he doesn’t become the reason I lose my position as number one in my class. 2 SHANE Jade Hermon must be the most selfish, most cruel human being I have ever met. I still remember when I first met her. It was the first day of high school about two and half years ago. She walked into the classroom with firm, straight steps as if walking into a war zone. People in class mumbled about her strange appearance. She wore a pleated skirt that looked like something passed down from the eighties. Her hair was tied back so firmly behind her head, I wondered if it didn’t hurt. Her mumps equally looked like something my grandmother would wear rather than something to be found on a teenager’s feet. Yet, she was strangely beautiful. I remember blinking three times, and mouthing a “woa” as Mr. Ward introduced her to the class. Her heart shaped face was set straight, her lips grim, her wide round eyes were fierce. The tail of her jet black hair swung around her in rhythm with the sway of her tiny hips as she walked across the room and pulled out a chair adjacent from me. She must have felt my gaze on her back, because she flung her head in my direction. Our eyes met, I smiled at her, and she glared at me, giving me the coldest expression I had ever received. It felt like ice crawling slowly down my throat. She rolled her eyes at me and looked away . I sighed. I knew in that moment that she and I would never be friends, forget how beautiful she was. She looked ill-tempered, and I really hated being around ill-tempered and mean people. They were stressful. You see, I am an easy-going simple fellow who’s goal in life is to avoid any and all forms of stress. I love my peace and quiet, as a matter of fact, if I am left alone to live life as I truly please, I will lie beneath the shade of a tree and allow myself to be washed by the warmth of the summer sun filtering through the roof of leaves while I read great fiction like Moby d**k and The Great Gatsby. After reading, I will sleep for eight hours, then wake up to draw whatever it is that catches my attention, after which I will stroll to my family restaurant for a warm dinner. That’s how life should be. Peaceful and quiet. So as struck as I was by Jade’s beauty, I made it a point of duty not to cross her path. And she turned out to be even more ruthless than I imagined. She was not interested in making friends. In fact, I do not think there was one person I could point out as her friend out of the fifty three of us in our class. She was incredibly selfish. All she cared about were her grades, and she was ready to walk over anyone to get what she wanted. She was that annoying person who always raised her hand to ask yet another question when everyone else was barely hanging on, waiting for the bell to ring. I always wondered why someone would choose to live like that. The only advantage I could see that her way of life brought her was that she became a teachers’ favorite. All the teachers loved and respected her, she got to occupy ‘prestigious’ positions like being the science lab monitor, the group leader on many occasions where group projects had to be carried out, and I was sure she would get great recommendations when she applied for college. Asides these, there was nothing appealing about choosing to be so brutal. So I dutifully avoided her year after year, until now. This documentary had sounded like a terrible idea to me from the first moment I heard it two weeks ago, and I had turned it down instantly. But James, the producer of the show, had gone behind my back to seek my parents’ consent and get them to convince me to do the show. I really don’t know why anyone would be interested in me and my life as the poorest student in my class. I didn’t care, I didn’t understand why anyone would. But my parents and James had won, so here I was, stuck by the side of the grumpiest human being ever for at least the next few weeks. She raised her hand again, which must be the sixteenth time in the past one hour, and I groaned beneath my breath. Normally, I would have placed my head on my table and dosed off by this time of the class, but the constant shifting of her chair as she rose and sat, and jerked her hand up to ask Mr. Henry one question after the next, or fiercely wrote in her notebook as if it was the last time she will ever write was really really annoying. I could not wait for the class to be over. 3 JADE “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” Frank, one of the men from the tv station asked, as he stared at me through the eyes of his camera. I turned from him to Shane sitting beside me, running his hands nonchalantly through his hair. The more time I spent with him, the more disgusted I became by his character and crude behavior. I shook my head and turned my attention back to the camera. “Well, in ten years,” I said, talking on that pitch I used when I wanted to sound confident, “I may not be sure of the details but I’m sure I’ll be successful somewhere. I’ll be working at a job where I get to adequately maximize my intellectual capacities for the betterment of my community, I would be an efficient leader in my capacity, and I’ll living a life that is beneficial to me and my community.” Shane smirked beside me, and I balled my hands into tight fists on my lap, resisting the urge to reach out and slap him. “That sounds great.” Frank said, smiling at me, and turned to Shane. “What about you Shane, what do you see yourself doing in ten years?” Shane sat back in his chair, his eyes looking dreamy as always. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “in ten years, I would definitely be resting. You would most likely find me taking a nap beneath a large oak tree, or reading a book, or eating in my family restaurant.” How lucky, I thought, to be able to dream of living such a lazy life because you have a family business. I didn’t even have a family, much less a family business. All I had was my grandmother, a weight of debts threatening to pull us under, and multiple jobs to joggle. The height of my dreams was to graduate from college, get a good job with a good pay, and care for my aging grandmother whom I could not live without. 4 SHANE “Do you have any specific things you hate about your life right now?” Frank asked me. That was a very simple question, there was only one thing I hated about my life right there and then. “Jade Hermon,” I said. Frank coughed and Jade smirked loudly beside me, giving me that cold stare that always made the hairs at the back of my neck stand. “What?” She sneered. I swallowed. “Yes.” I said breathlessly into the camera. “She’s mean, selfish and God, so terrifyingly brutal. I don’t see the use of good grades if someone is going to have such a terrible character—“ “Oh you think?” She cut me off sharply. “Well you know what I hate?” She crossed her right leg over her left as she turned to the camera. “I hate pathetic people who live nonchalantly without a care in the world. People who shamelessly exist and are comfortable getting the lowest grade in class yet still have the presence of mind to show up at school everyday after performing so shamefully, without any remorse or desire for improvement.” I swallowed. She was really bitter. “I hate people who live like they own the world, and feel like they will always have everything they want regardless of their performance. They disgust me.” “Are you talking about me?” She ignored me, and continued without as much as a pause to catch her breath. “You know what I find most exciting about my life in the next ten years? It’s that I wouldn’t have to see Shane Lee ever again.” I couldn’t say anything to that, because that was the first thing we had ever agreed on. “She’s right,” I said, after several minutes. “I may not be sure of anything about my life in the next ten years, but I’m definitely glad that Jade Hermon will be permanently blotted out of my life.” 5 10 YEARS LATER JADE This is not how it was supposed to go. This is not how my life was meant to turn out. I sighed for the umpteenth time as Mr Brad Kavinski cut me off for the hundredth time since I started this presentation fifteen minutes ago. I never imagined I would end up like this. Still desperately climbing my way up a long ladder filled at the top with men like Mr Kavinski who treated me way below standard because they had a preconceived notion about me. They made a mess of my intellectual capacity and regarded me as someone below the food chain who’s begging them to pass me a few crumbs. If I had the power, I would smack the file in my hands on the table, and walk out of the room, without so much as a glance back. But I couldn’t do that. Because I really was at the bottom of the ladder, desperately struggling to climb my way through. I just had to hang on, the only place I could from here if I walked away was the bottom. And having spent a lot of time at the bottom, I can testify that it is a ugly place to be. “Miss Hermon,” Mr Kavinski snapped, “Your presentation is pathetic.” I never imagined that I would be talked down to like this. “I didn’t come here this morning to waste my time. If you don’t have anything worthwhile to present to me, you shouldn’t bother coming here to embarrass yourself. I know your company is a small company, I generally avoid working with startups. But I saw your portfolio and some of the things you’ve done and they looked quite impressive. But for the past fifteen minutes you’ve not given me a reason to make me believe that I made the right decision by giving you this job. Everything you’ve been saying is jargon.” “Mr Kavinski — “ He cut me off with a raise of his hand, “please Miss Hermon, let me know if you guys are not up to this task. It’s not too late for me to contract the job to someone else who will deliver seamlessly.” “Mr Kavinski, if you would just let me finish my presentation before you make a decision.” My voice was louder than I intended, but at least it had the effect I needed, as the room went quiet and Mr Kavinski blinked at me. The tension was palpable, as Mr Kavinski glared at me, and I glared back, my wide eyes unblinking. My three colleagues sitting by my left along the long conference table were as still as statues, as was Mr Kavinski’s PA who sat by his right side. I returned my gaze to Mr Kavinski, gathering what was left of my courage to continue my presentation. “I was saying, to draw the attention of the public, we plan to collaborate with a popular artist that is loved by —“ He raised his hand again, cutting me short, and saw fireworks of annoyance sparked inside my head. “Is it not cliche to use merch to try to attract people these days? It’s expensive and most times it doesn’t work anymore, because it no longer makes people excited.—“ It was my turn to cut him off. I was bursting at the seams with annoyance and it took everything I had in me not to snap at him in that moment. He was grating my nerves and I was on the edge of explosion. I raised my hand to him like he had been doing to me all morning. “Mr Kavinski, I thought you agreed to let me finish my presentation before further analysis and critique?” He blinked at me, squeezed his brows and sighed. “Alright, continue.” “The idea is to invite a popular artist to host an event in the building on the day of its launching. That way, by combining two events into one we will be able to lots of attention. We are considering a visual artist. This artist can host a live drawing event in one of the many halls within the hotel, maybe even draw the hotel itself, so people who come just to see the work of art of this known artist will also be drawn to the architecture and grandiose of the hotel.” “Hmm,”. Mr Kavinski said, finally succumbing. “Do you have an artist in mind?” I nodded immediately. “Yes. Artist KY is a successful visual artist and illustrator who has suddenly blown up and has become the talk of the internet in recent times. In the past three years, he has built a huge and diverse fan base that runs across the borders of countries and continents and is also known to have clients among big names such as former President Barack Obama, RM of the Korean boy group BTS, and Justin Bieber. Inviting him to host a live event on the day of the launching will practically cause the launch of the hotel to blow up.” Mr Kavinski stared at him, his mouth slightly parted, and I felt pleased with myself. Finally he nodded and said, “sounds like a great plan.” “Thank you.” “Are you sure you can get this artist on board for this?” “Definitely sir, that will not be a problem.” I said with more confidence than I felt. Getting the artist on board was another bridge I would cross when the time came. Right now, the bridge I needed to cross was closing this deal and sealing this contract, so I gave it my all. “In-fact, based on the preliminary research I’ve done, the artist is based right here in the city of Oklahoma, and I’ll put a call through to him as soon as this meeting is over.” Me Kavinski nodded. “Well, it will have been much better if you had said this at the beginning rather than chipping it in at the end.” He said as he rose from his seat and everyone else seated around the table rose after him. He took long decisive strides, his assistant inches behind him. He stopped when he got to the door which was inches away from where I was standing and faced me. “Miss Hermon, one thing I hate with people I work with is unnecessary boasting. It would be much better if you humbly come clean and tell me something is too much for you rather than take on something bigger than you then fail to deliver. I swallowed, my heart steadily thumping in my chest. “I really hope you can pull this off.” Mr Kavinski said with finality. I hoped he could not see how badly I was trembling. I squeezed my hands into fists by my side, my nails pinching into the skin of my palm. “You can count on me, Mr Kavinski.” My voice was cool and confident, and I was grateful it did not give me away. Mr Kavinski nodded and walked out of the conference room. I heard sighs in the room, proof that I was not the only one who had been holding my breath in the past thirty minutes. “Wow, that was amazing.” Julia, my junior colleague said, as she clapped her hands quietly, smiling brightly at me. “Totally!” Adrian agreed with her, nodding. “I really thought we were going to lose the deal.” Peter said. “The man was so brutal. He was on the edge of insulting Miss Hermon’s intelligence.” “I know!” Julia agreed, “but he’s met his match. She put him back in his place in the space of seconds.” They all laughed. I sighed, slammed the file I was holding on the mahogany table and glared at them. They fell silent immediately. “This is not the time to sit around and gist guys. I need all the information you can get about the artist KY before the end of today. Everything from where he lives to his daily routine, to places he visits frequently, his hobbies, to what he eats, to where had buys his clothes. I mean everything! We can’t mess this up.” “Yes ma’am.” They all said. It’s not like I intentionally wanted to be a scary boss to the people I work with, but sometimes it is inevitable. I could not let them see how badly I was trembling and how scared I was that I would mess things up. So I masked my anxiety with a hard face and harsh words, and I don’t regret it. It worked most of time. “Uhm, that might actually be a bit of a problem,” Peter said quietly. “Why?” I asked. “Nobody really knows who the artist KY is. He does not even have an internet presence or a functioning social media platform like f*******: or i********:. Word has it he never even interacts with clients directly. All his transactions are handled by his manager and he has never held any live events.” “He held an exhibition last year, I think.” Julia chipped in. “Yea, but nobody saw him or recognized him there either. Some say he was not even present.” Peter replied. “Wow. That sounds like a problem.” Adrian said. I swallowed. “Well, we have to track him down come hell or high water.” I said, my eyes darting from Peter to Adrian then to Julia. They all stared at me for a few seconds without responding. “Would you guys prefer us to lose this deal? Which is about to be our biggest ever and has the potential to set our company on a pedestal?” “No ma’am.” “Definitely not.” “Nope.” They all replied at the same time, and I nodded at them. “Well good then. So we'll find him, and we'll make this work.” Apart from the fact that this could imply a significant raise for me, I just had to make it work because I could not deal with the embarrassment I would face from Mr Kavinski if I messed this up. I would rather die than have to deal with him throwing trash in my face. Plus, Brad Martins, my boss, will be highly disappointed in me. He had practically pulled me out from under, at a time of serious financial crisis when as an unemployed graduate, I was losing myself under the weight of student loans, impossible debts, and a sick grandmother. While I had graduated with a good result, I did not have the qualifications or training required to work in a product designing and advertising company. But he had taken a chance on me, and my goal has always been to not make a mess of the opportunity he gave me. Now will not be an exception. 6 JADE I sucked in a long breath and straightened the edges of my jacket as I walked up the three short steps and stared at the dark brown door in front of me. The artist KY was definitely a recluse. After two days of scouring through the Internet and getting in touch with people in the industry who might have access to him, my team members and I finally found his home address. But there was no contact, and while I got his manager's phone number, I figured it would be better for me to show up at his house and present my case to him passionately. Having meticulously avoided all forms all live events, tv shows, and anything that may risk him revealing his face to the public so far, I felt going through a manager was a guarantee that my proposal would be rejected. Maybe he would receive me better and consider what I had to say with a better air if I went the extra mile to visit him personally. It was a damp Monday morning, I could still smell the showers of last night's rain on the wet grass, the damp barks of trees, and in the cool air. I had no idea what his schedule was like, and while the interviews of him that I saw online and the collection of his works that I went through the night before gave me the impression that he was an introvert and probably a quiet, easy going man in his late twenties, I had no idea what to expect upon knocking the door. He may insult me for showing up at his doorstep unannounced, or send me away without giving me a second of his time. I swallowed, took a step back. Should I just go back? I thought. I sighed, ran my hands through my hair, and stepped forward again. I'm already here. What's the worst that could happen? With that, I summoned the badass, super-confident version of myself that had been asleep for a couple of days. I patted my cheeks to bring some color to my face, and knocked the door. There was no response, and the quietness around me weighed heavy on my mind like a sack of wet clay. What if he's not even home? It's Monday morning for God’s sake? What if he has another job? Or is out of town on vacation? I knocked again, waited, and was about to turn away when the door clicked open. Nothing that I had gone through in the whole 28 years of my life could have prepared me for that moment. Nothing could have prepared me for the way my heart fell from my chest to the pit of my belly, the way I suddenly, desperately needed air, and no matter how much I sucked in through my flared nostrils and parted lips, I could not get enough. If I were to be sincere with myself, I would know, that a part of my subconscious had suspected that this could happen, and had tried to warn me, to prepare me for the possibility, but I had ignored it, and shoved away the feeling in my gut that manifested as the queasiness I had in my belly all week, because not in a million years could I imagine that Shane was the successful billionaire artist I was reading about on the internet, and researching on day and night in order to gain access to. Nothing could have prepared me for the rush of emotions and familiar feelings that I had buried for five years that came bursting to the surface. Love, hate, pain, the butterflies in my belly, the cunning warmth growing between my legs, the weakness that washed over me as I stared into his dreamy auburn eyes, he was squinting, as if he had just woken up and was still adapting to the morning sunlight. His cinnamon hair was all curled and ruffled, his hand ran back and forth through it, and as his eyes focused on me, his hands dropped to his side. His shock was visible in the widening of his eyes, the ‘O’ of his mouth and the stillness of his body. I was still too, as still as a rock, I'm sure if a pin had dropped in that moment, I would have heard it loud and clear; because all other sounds receded to the background. The sound of my heart thumping loudly in my chest, the rush of blood in my ears, the sound of breath sucking into my lungs through my mouth. Nothing was heard. All my senses were focused on, and awakened by him. I could lie to myself, but my body was not in it with me. My n*****s recognized him, as my eyes drifted to his parted full lips, they hardened and pushed against the lace of my bra. I'm grateful I was wearing a jacket, because if I wasn't, I'm sure he would have seen the hardening and bulging of my n*****s through my white shirt. I was suddenly thirsty, so I swallowed my saliva and held my lower lip between my teeth, because it was craving him, his touch, his kiss. I was hot in the pit of my stomach and I could feel wet warmth curling through my pelvis, down, and pooling between my legs. Oh God. 7 SHANE My life turned out exactly as I anticipated. I was doing only the things I enjoyed. I slept and awoke when I wanted, I read as many books as I wanted to, I poured myself into my art, day in day out. I had no boss over me, save my parents whenever I volunteer to work as a cashier or waiter in any of our four restaurants. I had only two friends, Ed, who also doubled as my manager, and Trad, who's been my best friend since I was three years old. My life was peaceful and quiet, just the way I like it. I stay out of people's business, and I do not let anybody into mine. Which is why I was feeling a little uncomfortable this morning. I had slept for two full hours when Ed rushed into my room, shouting my name, my phone ringing in his trembling hands. I grunted, pulled the comforter over my head