Max heard a soft knock on his bedroom door, interrupting his sleepy afternoon. He responded with a half-awake "Yes?" while adjusting his eyeglasses. Upon opening the door, his eyes widened in surprise as he found a woman standing there.
Her presence commanded attention as she donned an ensemble that exuded professionalism and style. She wore a violet polo shirt that perfectly complemented her aura of elegance, paired with a sleek black skirt. Her hair was neatly tied up, and her own violet eyeglasses added an intellectual touch to her appearance. She's the capable and poised woman from Ford Designs.
Stammering in astonishment, Max managed to say, "M-Ms. Marie Campbell! Why are you here?" Marie's smile remained unwavering as she replied, "Rika provided me with your number, but you seemed to be avoiding my calls." Max, still caught off guard, asked in confusion, "Ms. Rika?"
Marie's tone turned serious as she said, "We need to have a conversation. May I come in?"
Instinctively, she attempted to step into the room, but Max quickly blocked her path, flustered, and exclaimed, "Wait, no, you can't." Hastily shutting the door, he turned back to her and suggested, "Let's talk in the drawing room." Carlo's voice suddenly chimed in from outside his room, causing both Max and Marie to look in his direction.
Curious, Carlo asked, "Drawing room?" Max, now in full panic mode, turned to Carlo and urged, "Prepare some tea, Carlo!" Carlo, caught off guard by the sudden request, replied in bewilderment, "Tea? Right now?"
Yet Max's urgency was palpable as he urged, "Yes! Just go, quickly!"
☘
In the drawing room, the atmosphere was set in somber tones, accentuated by the elegant furnishings and a soft glow of light filtering in from the curtains. Max and Marie engaged in a weighty conversation, their voices carrying the seriousness of the topic. The room itself bore a classic charm, with ornate decorations adorning the walls and antique furniture adding an air of refined taste.
Marie's words flowed with conviction, her gaze steady as she said, "Your next job hasn't even been decided yet, has it? If you're allowing time to slip away without purpose, consider this: come work with us. By joining Ford Designs, you'll have the chance to start anew, working your way toward your dream job." Her tone held a persuasive undertone, reminiscent of a parent encouraging their child.
A sudden intrusion in the form of Edward disrupted the gravity of the conversation. Edward's voice echoed, tinged with a parental tone as he asked, "Is this really alright, Max?" He fanned himself lazily, positioning himself between Max and Marie, injecting an almost comical element into the scene. Marie's questioning gaze shifted toward Edward, and Carlo, serving tea in the background, chimed in with a dismissive, "Oh, don't mind him."
Carlo's subtle intervention didn't deter Edward, who introduced himself with flair, saying, "Nice to meet you. I'm Edward Hayes. If you prepare this meal, I'll gladly devour three servings." With a playful glint in his eye, he aimed to make an impression.
Marie, unruffled, commented, "I wonder if that's all you can eat for my cooking." Edward, undeterred, raised the stakes with a grin, "If it's your cooking, I'll take four... no, five servings."
Marie's response was sharp yet playful, "I'm not fond of men with insatiable appetites."
Confusion hung in the air as Carlo, flabbergasted, asked, "What's happening here?" Max, sensing the time to address the situation, stood from his seat with a mixture of solemnity and regret. "I apologize for involving you to this extent," he said, a shadow of sadness crossing his face.
Marie's voice held a tinge of finality as she inquired, "Are you certain about this?" The room momentarily held its breath, and then Max found his resolve, expressing his choice with a heartfelt, "I'm sorry."
Edward and Carlo exchanged knowing glances, understanding that Max was making a decision that carried significance for his future. Meanwhile, Marie sighed softly, an air of resignation surrounding her. She collected her belongings and slung her bag over her shoulder, rising from her chair gracefully. "Very well then. If it can't be helped, I'll take my leave," she said, her departure marked by a sense of finality that lingered in the room.
Max settled back into his chair, the weight of the recent conversation evident in the lines on his face. However, annoyance radiated from Carlo, his frustration palpable. "Max! What a waste. Are you really alright with this?" he burst out, his tone edged with exasperation.
Max, puzzled by the sudden outburst, responded with a question, "What?"
Carlo's impatience was evident as he launched into an impassioned explanation. "Joining Ford Design Company is an incredible opportunity! You're aware, right? Despite its size, it holds immense potential within the industry," Carlo's words were accompanied by animated gestures, his enthusiasm apparent. He continued, "Chances like this don't come by often."
Edward chimed in, seemingly surprised by the revelation. "Seriously? I had no idea." Carlo turned his attention to Edward, adopting a theatrical posture as he exclaimed, "You didn't know? It might be a small company, but its future prospects are unparalleled!" His dramatic antics added a humorous layer to his passionate argument. "You're missing out on something huge," he emphasized.
However, Max's demeanor remained resolute, and he spoke with a grave tone, his eyes fixated on the floor. "That's enough, isn't it?" he stated, his words punctuated with a seriousness that commanded attention. The room fell quiet as both Carlo and Edward regarded Max, their earlier enthusiasm quelled by Max's unwavering stance.
"I have a lot of things to think about, too," Max's voice broke the silence, his tone laced with determination. With those words hanging in the air, he abruptly rose from his seat, his gaze resolute as he stared ahead. Without a word, he strode purposefully from the room, leaving behind a silence punctuated only by the resonance of his departing footsteps.
Carlo's phone rang unexpectedly, disrupting the lingering silence in the room. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he stared at the caller ID, which displayed an unfamiliar number. Tentatively, he answered the call, his voice hesitant, "Hello?"
The voice on the other end responded, "Hello, Carlo?" A jolt of surprise shot through Carlo's nerves as he recognized Honey's voice. Instantly flustered, he stumbled over his words, "H-Hello? Wait a second, hold on!" Acting on impulse, he rushed out of the room and into his own, attempting to compose himself.
Taking a deep breath, Carlo finally spoke again, his voice steadier this time, "Hello?" Honey's soft voice floated through the line, asking, "Are you okay now?" Carlo managed to reply, "Yeah. I'm okay."
However, the familiar silence fell once more, and Carlo struggled to find the right words. His gaze wandered around the room until it landed on the poster advertising the upcoming festival. An idea sparked in his mind, and he decided to seize the opportunity. "Hey," he began, his voice a mixture of uncertainty and enthusiasm, "you know... are you free next Saturday?"
Before Honey could respond, another voice cut in, catching Carlo off guard. "I have plans this Saturday." It was Arthur's voice on the other end, and Carlo's spirits sank as he heard it. Confused, Carlo questioned, "Who is this?"
Arthur's response was matter-of-fact, "I'm looking for someone who's free, and the only person I could think of was you. I had Honey call you for me."
Frustration and disbelief welled up within Carlo. He retorted, "I'm free, but will you please stop saying that I was the only person?"
Arthur's voice continued, undeterred, "I want you to help me out a little. I'll also pay you for working." Carlo tried to interject, "Oh, no, can you switch back to Honey...?" but before he could finish, it seemed that Arthur had already hung up the call.
Carlo's exclamations of "Professor? Professor?!" were met with the silent disconnect tone. In a mix of frustration and exasperation, he flopped onto his bed, his emotions getting the best of him.
☘
Evie's footsteps echoed lightly as she strolled around the university campus, the sun casting a warm glow over everything. Her attire, a bright yellow t-shirt paired with a crisp white skirt and her trusty backpack, seemed to reflect the cheerful ambiance around her. Her gaze fell upon Max, who stood still amidst a gathering of students all focused on the school billboard. Sensing his contemplative silence, Evie took a deep breath and mustered her courage, stepping over to his side.
"You're ditching again," she remarked casually, as if it was a common occurrence. Max's attention snapped away from the crowd upon hearing Evie's voice. He blinked, a touch of surprise crossing his features. "Eh?" he responded, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in his tone. Evie met his gaze evenly and stated, "If you're not serious at it, you won't be able to find a job."
Together, they watched the students around the billboard, celebrating some news with glee. Evie continued, her voice carrying a note of practicality, "Stop wasting time. Learn from me and find the answer right away." Max's lips curved into a half-smile as he replied, "That's right."
However, Max shifted his focus back to Evie and posed a thoughtful question, "Evie, you were quick to decide on college, too, weren't you?" Her nod was accompanied by a hint of agreement in her eyes. "Yeah. In the pottery department, it's hard to find a job. So I thought it would be better if I studied more," she explained matter-of-factly.
A deep sigh escaped Max's lips, his expression a mix of admiration and self-reflection. "That's great," he acknowledged, a soft chuckle escaping him. His smile wavered slightly, and he added, "I wish I could decide on things as easily as you."
As Evie's thoughts swirled within her, a tumultuous sea of emotions, she found herself on the brink of tears. It was as if a realization had surfaced within her, a decision solidified. She took another deep breath, steadying herself, and uttered words that held the weight of her feelings, "I decided not to chase after things I know I can't obtain."
Max's brow furrowed, his eyes holding a mixture of confusion and intrigue. He opened his mouth, perhaps to question her further, but Evie continued resolutely, "Even for love, if you waste time, you'll miss your next chance. You know that I can't chase after you forever."
The realization struck Max with a sudden force, rendering him silent. He saw in her words a deeper meaning, a lesson learned from her own experiences. Despite the weight of their conversation, Evie managed to summon a small, bittersweet smile, trying to maintain her composure. "You work hard, Max," she said, her voice carrying an air of encouragement.
Max's lips twitched into a genuine smile, appreciating her words and the sentiment behind them. As Evie turned and began to walk away, Max's gaze remained fixed on her retreating figure. He observed her with newfound understanding, absorbing the depth of her emotions and the wisdom she had shared. The intensity of the moment lingered, and Evie's departing steps seemed to echo with a sense of determination and the quiet turmoil of emotions left unsaid
☘
The sunlit morning cast its warmth upon the bustling scene as Carlo, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, meticulously loaded chairs wrapped in bubble wrap and plastic into the back of a waiting truck. With each lift and placement, his efforts were evident, but so was the physical strain he was enduring.
Voicing his exhaustion, Carlo muttered while heaving another chair, "You didn't tell me it would be this difficult." With a sigh, he deposited the chair in its place within the truck's cargo area. Meanwhile, inside the truck, Arthur observed Carlo's laborious efforts from a position of relative comfort.
"Carlo, there's no job in this world that isn't difficult," Arthur responded, his tone carrying a note of seasoned wisdom. Carlo, his brow slightly furrowed, quipped, "Well, the job that you have doesn't seem difficult at all," swiftly maneuvering yet another chair into its designated spot.
Arthur leaned casually against the window frame, peering outside at Carlo's determined movements. "College teachers are often misunderstood as such," he offered with a faint smile, his words hinting at the complexities of his own profession.
The final chair was lifted and carefully arranged within the truck's confines. Carlo paused, taking a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving. Arthur's voice broke the stillness, "Shall we go?" Carlo, his fatigue momentarily forgotten, nodded affirmatively, and with a sense of purpose, he positioned himself in the back of the truck. Arthur initiated the engine, the hum of its power resonating in the air as it roared to life.
As the truck rumbled along the road, Carlo found himself seated in the cargo area, his legs dangling off the edge. He gazed idly at the passing scenery, lost in thought. However, his focus was abruptly jarred when he spotted Edward and Honey walking together on the sidewalk. Edward had a firm grasp on Honey's hand, and Carlo's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" Carlo shouted, his voice tinged with a mix of shock and frustration. His arm instinctively shot up, waving at them frantically. Edward, seemingly unfazed, responded with a cheerful wave in return, still holding Honey's hand. Carlo watched in disbelief as Edward seemingly pulled Honey along, her steps not entirely voluntary.
Carlo's exasperation grew, and he leaned out of the truck, shouting again, "Professor! Please stop! Professor!" His open palm hit the side of the truck in a dramatic manner, as if trying to physically halt their progress. Despite his efforts, the truck continued its course, taking a right turn and carrying Carlo further away from the amusingly exasperating scene.
"No!" Carlo exclaimed, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration as the distance between him and the sidewalk seemed to expand with each passing second.