"Sofia" I mused inaudibly. "So that's her name".
I raked my mind for that name within the over 500 employees list. Of course there were fifteen people by that name, and I knew their faces. But even from the back view, I had no clue who this girl was.
But then again, she can't be an employee. No employee would dare show up to a place often referred to as "the highlight of fashion trends" looking the way she does.
Watching her movements as she tried not to glance at me, I realized that she must have figured it out. Who I am, I mean or maybe her guilt for the things she said earlier has caught up with her.
She shifted from foot to foot, trying her
hardest not to look back at me.
Before I became the CEO, I made it a priority to memorize the names and faces of my employees. It wasn't easy, but I did it not because I'm kind or considerate. But because that was what my job entailed and I aimed to be the very best.
Becoming the CEO at the age of 22 was a feat that has never been accomplished before. In the history of the business world, I was the youngest CEO ever.
It wasn't easy, the Lords never supported the idea. They found it ridiculous that a boy, yeah, they thought of me as a boy even now. A boy would take over an empire at such a young age.
Everyone expected me to fail. They were waiting to see me trudge down the muddy paths of failure. But the one thing they didn't know about me was that Richard Wellington never fails.
All my life, I can't remember any moment where I failed. I'm always winning. Always the first. Always the best.
With my high IQ, I finished high school at the age of 14. Well, that feat can't just be credited to my IQ, the money and resources at my disposal aided in getting me there.
I went to the best school. Had the best teachers, even private tutors.
But the truth of it all was that I strived for the best because I knew I didn't have much time to do it. My condition was diagnosed at an early age. My parents tried to hide it from me, but I took it upon myself to know the reason behind my body weakness. The pain that sometimes tightened in my chest and why I sometimes found it hard to breathe.
I remember going to the hospital when I was just ten years old. The hospital was owned by the Wellington Empire and Doctor Tex was our family doctor.
One could say I was born ruthless, because how could a ten year old threaten to hurt the doctor's family if he refused to show me the results of my heart scan.
I would be lying if I said that I didn't mean every word I said to him that day. I knew where his children attended school and all it would take is a few bucks for them to receive a facial disorientation.
And he knew the weight of my words. The weight my name carried. So, he had scrambled to provide the results a few seconds after I threatened him.
He tried to leave after handing me the
results, but I ordered him to sit his ass
down. I made him explain every word, every phrase, every term and terminology, until the cold realization of my condition dawned on me like the splash of freezing water on a winter night.
I really don't remember how long I just sat there, not uttering a word. I don't even think I blinked. I just sat so still that Doctor Tex abandoned his office and my presence in a scurry.
I didn't blame him, especially after answering all his queries with nothing, but cold silence.
Hours passed, the sun made its descent and lights from the city filtered through the glass windows of his office and yet I remained there.
I don't really remember exactly what had paralyzed me, the news that I wouldn't live to grow old or that the possibility that my heart could fail at any moment and that would be it.
At that moment, I don't think I was even thinking. Every part of me just froze up, even the ever turning gears of my mind. I think that's what it means to be in shock, but that wasn't just any kind of shock. That was the shocking, startling and overwhelming realization that my life could dim at any moment.
I remember my parents rushing into the room. I remember hearing my name in varied tones, a yell, a scream, a call, even a whisper.
I remember someone tried to take the results I clutched, I remember hearing the sound of the paper tearing as the person struggled to untangle my grip on it. I remember seeing faces full of gloom. I remember being shaken slowly at first, then violently, but I didn't come out of my shock.
It all felt like I was watching all these things unfold before me from eyes that weren't mine. Like it was all far away. Like I was there and in a way, wasn't.
Perhaps none of it makes sense, but most things in life rarely do, like realizing at the age of ten that one's days are numbered. That each breath was a privilege and the next might very well be the last.
I also remember someone hugging me, the faint scent of my mother's perfume drifting through my senses. I remember hearing her pleas and sobs as if from a distance. I remember being scooped into her arms and the faint buzzing of sounds like people yelling though it sounded like murmuring. The blinding lights of the hospital's hallway as we made our way through.
The drive home with both my parents still trying to pry an answer from my sealed lips. The rushing lights of the city, dulled by the tinted windows of the car as we sped by. The freezing temperature of the AC and the goosebumps that lined my skin.
I remember arriving at the Wellington Mansion, the place I called home. I remember yelling orders for a bath and food by my angry father. I remember still being in my mother's arms. I remember her settling me gently in the tub and bathing me for the very first time. I remember watching her as her tears smeared her mascara, giving her a ghoulish look. I remember my father standing by the door watching me with a look that ranged from pity, concern, disgust and anger.
I remember my lips remaining sealed as they tried to feed me, even as the aroma of the food mesmerized my nose. I remember hearing my father call Doctor Tex, cursed him, threatened to fire his ass if I didn't return to normal and finally sagged on one of the dining stools when it seemed his anger had failed him. I remember him listening to Doctor Tex and I remember being tucked in by the both of them a while later after the call and after it dawned on them that my lips would not pry open that night. I remember them flanking my sides, my mom reading me a bedtime story and my dad holding my left hand, kissing it from time to time and begging me to come back to him.
I remember falling asleep and waking up around 3am. It felt like rousing from a dream, like all those events happened in a dream-like state. And I remember trashing my room and waking everyone up as it slowly dawned on me that it had all been real. That I had a malady that could claim my life anyday… anytime.
That night, no, that early morning, I remained unconsolable, raging and raging until my strength failed me and sleep claimed me once more four hours later. I didn't go to school that day, I remember spending that day in bed with a scorching temperature. I was out of my shock, but the events of the night and that morning had caught up with me.
I don't really like remembering that day, and I really can't say why I'm remembering it now. Perhaps with the nerving silence, my mind needed something even if it's a terrible memory to occupy its vastness.
But truly nothing remained the same afterwards, I grew more ambitious, resented life and well, became the person I am today.
And this girl in front of me was going to get a taste of that person… whether or not she chooses to stay for the interview, cause clearly that's what she's here for, she was going to pay and… dearly.
She stumbled and fell towards me as the elevator dragged to a stop. Carefully easing myself out of her way, I smiled as she banged her head on the gold metal walls of the elevator.
"See you in a bit… Sofia" I grinned at her as I exited the elevator.