* * *
"Who hurt me?!"
Of all people who could have asked me that question, it just had to come from such a haughty, self-righteous prick!
"I hate him! I hate him! I HATE HIM SO MUCH!" I channel anger—no, fury—at the washroom stall, kicking and punching with all my might, unaware that there were also people utilizing the lavatory present.
"Oh my gosh!"
"What kind of crazy lunatic is in there?!"
I hear their weary screeches which should have set me straight... made me compose myself... yet instead, it spurred me on, making me drive my fists deeper and deeper into the solid, hard material of the door.
"C'mon, let's leave."
"Yeah! Let's." And it was best they did! I was already in such an awful mood and their trifling comments didn't help make it better!
I needed a moment for myself right now. As in, a very long one!
But then, what would it matter? I would have to be a fool demoting myself to a clown by admitting he was not right because he terribly was. I was hurt badly in the past—by a collection of people, to be exact— who also happened to be his kind; the rich and frivolous who rip families apart without a second thought. So, call it me being petty, but there is no way I would ever work under or with him for his sick, callous amusement!
Ever!
"I hate him..." I mumble in between gasps for air, my vision blurring from agonizing tears. "I hate him for reviving those memories! I hate him so much!"
* * *
The workday at Marquis Cooperations officially started. Employees overflowed into the company to work for their pay, but unknown to them, they encounter—angrier than usual—David, who headed for the front entrance radiating a ghastly aura with thunderous, loud footsteps.
His abrupt appearance immediately struck terror into the heart of every living being at the lobby just like it had the day before, causing a mass panic.
"He's here again today!" a pale staff dreaded, alerting a number of distracted persons.
Pausing from their duties, they gathered to discuss the polished, uncanny man exiting the building.
"Welp! Someone else is gonna get fired today then!"
"Dude! Don't jinx it!"
"Jinx what? It's not my fault he's so erratic. I heard he didn't even show for the first 8 months his father handed the company over to him, and whenever he swings in and out, no one ever knows. Yet when we finally got to see his face yesterday, the first thing he did was fire dirty rose on the spot!"
"Oh please! You can find his face all over the web if you actually cared," A fussy staff interrupted the conversation that defamed her beloved. "Besides, him firing people whenever he shows up is just a rumor, you idiot! How gullible can you get?"
Another one popped out of nowhere. "How could our handsome prince be such a heartless sadist! He only fired that woman yesterday because she defiled his honor—our prince isn't like that!"
A group of junior girls had unnoticeably joined in; unpaid civil servant lawyers, swooning over their client, David, from behind the company's tall glass windows.
"I'm spilling facts over here and you're saying I'm gullible?"
"YES!" They chanted over-indignantly, and it was best not to argue the point any further.
To them, David was more than an obsession; he was a way of life. They only used products of which he endorsed, only visited landmarks that he traveled to, and even only held their phones the pinpoint way in which he held his.
David's nonchalant yet passionate take on life was a true inspiration to them.
Whenever he wished to expand to new, inauspicious projects, he always found a way to make it successful despite being advised otherwise, surpassing competition with supersonic speed. He has been so renowned ever since stepping into the world of tech and actively monopolizes 33 percent of its industry. Smaller or competing companies would emulate his techniques, utilize his systems and more than half the world owned his products and used his services.
Needless to say, he was terribly handsome.
David marquis was a sienna-brown-skinned man who stood at six-foot-five. His hair, when out of the public eye, would be unreservedly curly and springy, making him appear youthful again. He also wasn't a man who bent easily to the public's ideal of beardless men; growing, trimming, and displaying his on full display most times he was seen. His eyes were also a queer red—deep red—which had an animalistic subjugating effect on whoever stared into them.
However, such charms weren't just limited to his profession; he has also excelled in catching the attention of love-crazed mothers and daughters from rich families who sought wealthy additions to their lineages.
"Okay then," the baffled staff couldn't help but chuckle as he capitulated to the love-struck masses. Right after that very fair debate, Rouge, with Blaze behind her, eased herself into the conversation.
"'Our handsome prince?'" She turned a nose up at the title. "When exactly did that start happening?"
The flustered girls simply stammered amongst themselves without a clear response to give their curious senior.
"Have a good day!" they bowed before running off.
"... did I say something wrong?" she puzzled, watching them scatter like mice at the sight of a cat; pouting at the male junior as she asked it. His eyes burnt into the ground, avoiding any sudden eye contact.
"No, I don't think so! Not at all... not really. I'll take my leave then. Have a nice day," he departed in the same manner as the girls.
"It's you," Rouge turned to Blaze. "You're intimidating them."
"What?!" Blaze gasped, disapproving of the idea. It was ludicrous to start with because: "Just your assets alone made that junior turn bright-red, and surely made those girls feel inferior too! You are the one intimidating them." However, deciding to end on a responsible approach, she suggested instead: "Or diverting away from this petty nonsense, it could simply be our seniority."
"Bet."
"Bet."
"Miss Blaze!"
"Yes?"
A junior girl came running towards the two of them, handling a box of warm Madeleine pastries like a precious metal. "T-this is for you! I hope you enjoy them!"
Taking them, Blaze beamed at the thoughtful gift. "I'll make sure to. Thank you!" then Giving an insanely warm smile, the girl felt as if the ground were melting beneath her feet when in actuality, her knees were wobbling from over-excitement and her face scalding from a deep color red. "Oh my gosh! She's so cool!" She squealed, rejoining her friend group.
"'Petty nonsense' huh? You make them feel uncomfortable! They're always giving you gifts and crap, practically reverencing you. But no matter! You can keep the girls. I've got the boys."
"This was never a competition Rouge—"
"These juniors really are something," her attitude cut Blaze's words of reason, "How could they form a fan club for some dude and call it 'our handsome prince'? Doesn't that only happen in silly, corny television shows?"
"He's not exactly, 'some dude'."
"He's some dude to me and that's all that matters."
"Heh, wanna join it?" Blaze teased.
"Ha-ha! You're hilarious." Rouge mocked; envisioning herself in a fan's position, or god forbid, materializing it, was never going to happen. She'd rather be the "the beautiful princess" instead. "Anyways, our break's over so we better get going. I wanna see which bitch got handed Ruby's previous position and desk!"
AAAAHHHH!
Desperate screeches rang out from the women's washroom accompanied by a stampede of women running out as if they had just seen the devil himself.
"Is that chick crazy? Does she plan on driving the rest of mad like her?"
"My gosh, does she have the foulest mouth and ugliest temper!"
"Who? The one who got fired yesterday?"
"Yeah. We plan on calling security since she keeps harassing everyone who wants to use the washroom. Let's go."
Watching them scatter, "Do you think it's Ruby?" Blaze asked inquisitively. And right away, Rouge confirmed her suspicion with an overzealous smile, heading into the wailing washroom with newfound delight.
"Oh, it's Ruby alright."