No one noticed Zheleesa entered the shop. Nor her stolid and substantial step, which should have been heard upon the tiled floor. There she saw her mother's faithful servant. Back again at his ludicrous of a job of cleaning and sweeping.
He swings the mop into his humming while tidying the tiles of Sophie Paris. A soft and unknown rhythm to himself.
"I reckoned that it's still ten. You should be at school, Zhel."
"Teachers have a meeting, so we don't have classes today," Zheleesa blatantly lied. 'And it's not like you care anyway.'
"They're getting lazy. What is up with all the meetings? They are neglecting their duties." Zheleesa Wilson set her weightless knapsack underneath her mother's desk. She smoothened down her prudish sea-green skirt. Rolling her eyes on how paradoxical her mom sounds.
"Also, tie your hair up, miss. You look horrendous."
"And as for Mico here," Her mother perched up in her chair in ample excitement. "You seem to be in quite a good mood! Far from your usual robotic demeanor." Now that she mentioned it, Miku does seem to be spirited. Naturally, she was intrigued as to why. After all, Miku Perez is the subject of her infatuation.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Miku with deference.
"Was it your Girlfriend? You didn't tell me you have one!" Well, that took her aback.
"I don't have a Girlfriend, ma'am." Zheleesa sighed in silent relief. That was a comforting assurance.
"But she called yesterday. I was worried, you know. You are my only and most diligent employee. But I guess she nursed you back to good health pretty well!" Whirling around her swivel chair, she grabbed another handful of Piattos as she consumed it in merriment. "What's her name again? Beatrice?"
"It's Behati, actually. She's just an acquaintance I met yesterday."
She saw his eyes shift frantically and panic even.
From the statement she has heard, and not that she felt a teeny-tiny pang of envy, it seems that Behati is far more than an acquaintance. Why would you let a newly met stranger take care of you in your most vulnerable form? Zheleesa doesn't know. She's only fifteen and hasn't seen the world in the eyes of the grown-up yet.
"I mean, she...she was once an acquaintance, and it felt like it was only yesterday since I've met her! It was already a year!"
"Really? What a good friend you have. I knew that eating unhealthy instant noodles during lunch would snap right back at you. You should prepare yourself a proper heavy meal. That's what an independent young man does so that his parents wouldn't worry about his well-being."
"Yes...Yes, I will."
"Oh! Also, we have new Sophie members who registered yesterday! Who knew we could actually leech some customers from McDonald's opening?"
Feeling that she doesn't really belong to their conversation, Zheleesa ran upstairs in the hopes of resolving her inner and childish ambivalence. She has better things to do, anyway. Like reading a narrative from the One-hundred tales of Decameron, 'Federigo's Falcon,' in partial fulfillment of the book review, she solely is required for her English subject. Since she has missed quite a several papers to procrastination.
The upper flooring of Sophie Paris was not spacious at all. Two doors, adjacent from each other, leads to the Bodega, and the other to a conference room of small capacity. She stretched a folding bed, a worn-out cot that she and her siblings use whenever they stay there until closing, laying it beside the white post railing of the stairs. She hunkered on the bed and opened her English module.
"You shouldn't skip classes, Zheleesa."
"Leave me alone, four eyes."
But he just stayed there. Leaning by the window grill overlooking the cashews on a trapál, bathing in the sun below.
"I owe you this job, yes. And I'm grateful for that. But that doesn't mean you don't need to attend school, I'm only tutoring you to help you with homework."
He sat beside her. "Meddling with my business isn't in the deal."
"You're a very talented and smart child. So don't deny yourself a room to grow."
She admired him. And it was because he saw something in her that grown-ups ignore to see. He acknowledged Zheleesa. And she was eased. Comfortable. But it seems that she must have overlooked something. He was no different from the rest. In his eyes, she was still just a child.
"Don't dictate me how my cosmos should look like. I decide myself."
She wanted to be angry. But it came out nothing but a hushed coaxing to herself. She lowered her head. Fiddling with the leaves of her book.
"So, what's the coverage of your English Mastery?" He inched closer to the girl, peeking at the particular page she's contemplated at.
"Federigo's Falcon, huh."
"It was yesterday. Got full marks. I just have some missed activities to work on." Miku gently lifted the book from her lap, placed it on his, and began to browse his eyes through the surface of the module.
"You've highlighted the climax," said he. Pushing his eyeglasses back. "I guess it means you've read this already. Would you mind telling me what you've learned from this narrative?" He drummed his slender fingers on the book, reeling at Zheleesa's direction to look her in the eye. The small distance between them was suffocating. Unbearable for her florid flesh to withstand.
"Federigo's love for Monna Giovanna was not that of Eros-like. It was not a worldly desire for mutuality. His sentiment was genuine. Unconditional. An Agape affection that never shifts despite any circumstances. Although it seems too roseate. But what can I expect? It's a superficial fiction of a whimsical man."
"That last part is not really that necessary."
"Anyhow, the story felt quite relatable. Apart from the fact that Monna reciprocates his feelings. That which I supposed nonsensical."
Miku chuckled. "That's some statement there."
Why did she have to let that out loud? She's passed beyond dementia, into the complete shutdown but dread on her brain. And all of this is because of her own stupidity for appearing commiserated towards the fictional character. How shallow can she be?
"Who's this fellow that didn't reciprocate your feelings, even with the unconditional love you offered?" He asked, oblivious to her mental breakdown, humoring as unambiguous as his raspy voice.
Her defense mechanism to the hazardous question made Zheleesa turn her face away. "You wouldn't want to know who."
"You have her hair."
"What?"
She saw those eyes of his behind the lens, stirring a look of hysteria again.
"It's lunch Break! Let's continue this later."
The next thing she knew, she was already alone, with Miku leaving their study session using a lame of an excuse when it's still half-past ten.
It's definitely that Behati.
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Ma'am Melody left the premises of the shop. Leaving a sticky note behind to tell Miku where she went off. And as usual, she has business to attend to or rather, meeting a friend of hers on Dunkin Donuts.
He pitched on the counter. Probably staring at the doorway to see if someone's going to arrive and distract him from his own. He's been off since yesterday, and he's aware of how messed up he is. And though he's conscious of this existential crisis, he still doesn't know what's wrong with him anymore. And ever since his boss mentioned her name, it's getting much graver to the point of affecting his performance.
Considering that no one was going to come and buy from any of their merchandise, he went on to check out Ma'am Melody's unfinished request for restocking instead.
There's still an hour and twenty-five minutes left before his work period ends. He needs to make the best of it.
"No, my bad. Adjust the number of quantities. No, scratch that. Start over again. I've entered the wrong list."
"Okay, ma'am."
"Thank you for letting me know. That was a close one if you hadn't called. Time to go! Goodbye!"
Eighteen minutes have already passed. The clock on the dawn-tinted wall seems to have chosen to slow down of all time.
He set down his phone beside the keyboard, giving back his full focus on the monitor.
But before the screen of his phone unlit on is own, he saw an unknown number added on his phone. His list of contact information is of the bare minimum. Having only his parent's, Ma'am Melody's, Zheleesa's, a contact number of someone he'd rather not mention, and his teachers'. So it was easy to take notice of an unwanted phone number that he so positively didn't add himself.
It was Behati's. But her contact info named from her former gibberish name of identity. He knew for a fact that he let her used his phone yesterday while he was being tormented with face paints.
Should he give her a call? There must be a reason why she entered her number. Is she expecting her to call him because of yesterday? Mayhap she's playing a prank on him. Much agreeable. She is a playful type of juvenile, as he has observed her be so.
He's being torn to whether or not, wasting approximately two minutes and fifteen seconds already. His inner mule longing for water and food, that if he does not make up his mind in time, he will die.
But why would he dial Behati?
"Hello po?" a high pitched tune greeted him on the other line.
"Is this Ms. Behati?"
"How'd you know my name—oh...Mister Ronald! It's high time for you to call!"
"You have five minutes to tell me what exactly did you told Ma'am Melody. And! Your explanation as to why."
"What?" Behati exclaimed. "I did you a favor! Is that how you thank me? I even got myself banned at McDonald's to fulfill your fussy request!"
"You were what?"
"Nothing. Anyway, why'd you called, really? You've probably figured it out. And you're not really the type to spend time on trivial matters, as I have seen in our short moment together."
"I've already said it. Time is ticking, Behati."
"Even bossier on the phone, are we?"
He leaned on his chair, amused at how their conversation is proceeding. "You're not being cooperative here. My load is getting consumed on nothing."
"Wait! I'm just kidding! You're just fun to tease!" He can't help but smirk at her sudden outburst of desperation.
Even though, it has to come to an end. "Time is up. I need to go now."
"Don't hang up on me, Ronald."
"I have multiple works to do now at the same time, Behati."
"You like multi-tasking, right? Plug an earphone or something and just listen to my voice. You'll be able to work that way, you know."
That tug in his guts again. Another cog is forcing itself inside him. He felt it agitating his now imperfect sensibility. But not like the last one, he gave way to it and let the cog situate itself on its desire placement.
"I've got a lot of amazing things to tell you."
And there goes his time. Being slowly devoured by a newly met person of the opposite sex. But he was just there on the other line, not replying and leaving any side comments to her nonsense, just as she asked. For deep inside Miku, he craves to hear more from her. To learn everything about her from all her rants and sordid comedy and puns. It's just that he denies it and convinces himself that he is but paying his debts to her. He just listened to her and grin occasionally. Miku ended the call for a little while, considering that he had a class for that afternoon.
They continued again on his way back home. He didn't have anything scheduled at that particular time, so he already replies to her absurd stories. The speed of time keeping up to her tittle-tattles. Fast enough that he didn't even notice that he's already inside of his apartment. In front of his laptop. And for the whole year, that night, he didn't feel alone. He's there, together with the resounding of Behati's laugh on the other side.
"Do you know that cows don't like the songs of Willie Nelson? Or any country music? They produce a lot more milk when listening to music. But it has to be kind of upbeat."
"Who's Willie Nelson?" Miku asked.
"You uncultured swine! You don't know him?"
"No." Then there was an uncomfortable silence between them. And he couldn't bear it. He took a sip from his coffee. "Am I suppose to know him?"
"Not really. You just...sound tired. Or is that really how your voice work or what?"
"What about you? You've been talking the whole time. Don't you feel exhausted at all?"
"Ever heard about Phosphenes?"
"Yeah." He replied. The sound of the laptop's keyboard sending vibrations on their ears.
"A spot of light generated by pressure on your eyeball, or direct stimulation of the visual system, well, other than by light."
"Incorrect. It's the cosmos you see when you close or rub your eyes!"
He smacked his forehead in exasperation. "That's the same thing!"
"No! Your definition has a lot of science shenanigans. Mine's straight to the point." Another attack of silence took ahold of them. He heard her exhaled a stifled breath momentarily on the other side of the line.
"The stars are beautiful tonight. You should rest. You've been working all day. Look at the stars with me."
"What do you mean?" He asked, looking out on his grimy window pane. "There are no stars in the skies tonight."
"What are you saying? The cosmos inside us never disappear, Ronald." She blurted out.
Truth to be told, he is tired. There's no denying to that fact.
"It's Miku. I hate my name, as you do." He removed his lenses and carefully placed it on top of his stationaries, as he laid his head on his shoulder, there, in the small dining table. The tone of Behati's sweet good night resting on his left ear as he drifts off to sleep under the starry night.