❝ If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door. ❞ — H.

↞ t w o ↠

"Name?" I glance down at the receptionist's nametag, while she doesn't know mine, hers is up on display - May. "Halo. Halo Jules."

May types with the accessory of speed aiding her, "Right. . . Halo Jules."

"No, it's not Jules. It's Jules, like Joo-leys." I numbly correct her.

Her eyes dart up to mine, quirking a brow before trying to pronounce it. "Jules."

"No-" I tut quietly to myself, it'd be stupid to go back and forth over this when I might not see her again, and if I do - I'll correct her next time. "Just, can I have my pass?"

May's other eyebrow joins the other, "Oh!"

Yeah, I retort in my head.

"Here you are," When she hands me a card that has my name along with 'visitor pass' in bold print on it, I don't make it a choice to stick around and head for the elevator behind the front desk. Along my walk there, pictures and testimonies from former patients decorate the walls, Promise Hospital.

I'd been here more times than I could count and from a younger age than I'd like to admit. Most of the doctors, ones who haven't retired yet, know me and give their sympathies as I shuffle through the halls on the 6th floor. I went with all-white converse sneakers since my heels would disturb those who have the misfortune of calling this building their home.

I glance down at my high-waisted ripped jeans, checking my legs - I don't play with the ash. Even if my mom won't be able to see my outfit, my dad will and I want him to see me at my best, regardless if he isn't at his; or hasn't been for a long time, my mind supplies. During my trail through the halls, heart monitors beep and when I'm far enough that I can't hear it anymore, another room's heart monitor beeps in its place.

Room 369, a number among a handful of others that I've come to loathe and for the simple fact that they hold someone captive under the promise of improvement and care. I hear this room's heart monitor beep, but it's different from the rest - a little bit louder. Louder in a way that almost makes me wish it would stop beeping, flatline.

As I walk in and find my father laying his head on my mother, who rests in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask, from his chair, I remember why I've never voiced these feelings. I've spent my years sitting in a hospital room by her side with the same machinery to declare she was alive and in pain, and still causing pain. When she wasn't able to provide me affection herself from her hospital bed in a comatose state, it only worsened when my dad couldn't either because he had to work and care for her instead.

"Hey dad," I murmur in a completely different tone from the violent thoughts I was just having. He doesn't answer so I just assume he's sleeping and glance up at the heart monitor again. The thought of me pulling her equipment out of their sockets leaves me sick and disgusted, just intrusive thoughts.

"Hah," I sigh to myself and take the only other seat in the room, propping my elbows on the armrests. There's nothing to keep my mind busy and I can't distract myself with the regret-filled conversations my dad and I exchange so I do what most of the general population does: go on my phone.

I fill up the '3:00 pm' time block for tomorrow on my calendar app, I need to call Imari. On the topic of my schedule, I remember to text my secretary, Lex: clear my schedule around three tomorrow, thanks. Running a law firm ain't no walk in the park, but I take how well I handle everything with pride. "Lola?"

"Mh?" I hum quietly, careful to let him wake gradually on his own.

The ends of his mouth quirk up into a smile, though it doesn't reach his sunken eyes, it's soft around the edges and kind - and that's enough for me. "Hey, how ya feeling?"

"Good," I mumble into his shoulder as we embrace each other. He rubs my back soothingly which makes me release a relaxing exhale. "And you, dad?"

He pulls back and smiles at me tiredly as he examines my face, studying all the growth he's missed. "Always could be better."

I smile softly and shake my head before watching his eyes trail over to my mother, who's already had his attention more than I ever could. But he looks back at me, unable to hold up the smile any longer as it becomes too heavy like the lie he weaves himself of being happy. "I miss her, y'know."

Exhaling completely through my nose, it isn't easy to hear him constantly talk about her - only because he only talks about her. "Yeah, I know."

Dad goes back to staring at her until he's done so long enough that he finds it better to have a seat, sitting down in the same one he has for 13 years. "Can you watch her, so I can go take a shower?"

"Yeah," I nod while rubbing my palms against my denim jeans, focusing more on the texture than my disappointment. "Yeah."

He grabs a bundle of clothes right next to his chair, stopping and gently placing his hand on my shoulder during his walkout. "Thanks, princess."

I try to smile at him but it comes out more of a grimace as I whisper, "Yeah. No problem, Dad."

And with that, he walks out of the room - he didn't even notice my outfit. But I'll forgive it like I always do.

⚠

"Remember what we went over, right?" Jean glances up at the rear-view mirror, same as he has been throughout the ride - before looking back down at the road.

I mumble quietly, focusing more on my nerves and the dread they tease from inside. "Yeah,"

"Good! Good!" He cheers as we slow at a red light, giving him the chance to turn his neck and look back at the right-back window seat where I'm sitting. "Don't mess this up."

"Right."

While his tone begs a tease, it's more likely he is serious. After all, there's even a kernel of truth behind every joke; so it's pretty obvious where lies his.

The luxurious beige interior tints with green lighting, prompting Jean to turn back around and cut through the sea of headlights which rush through the front window like a current, fighting each other to shine bright but in vain as they mesh into one bright light.

He exhales loudly when he turns down the dialed-up air-conditioning which substituted the nagging silence. "You okay, back there?"

"M'fine."

"Okay," Jean shrugs, "If you say so."

I click the power button on my phone, a selfie of Imari and me at the beach smiles back at me - how nice would it be to go back? How blissfully unaware I was that I would be headed for a destination like the one I dread now, on an even more important mission. And how many times have I wished I could go back?

I always have, whenever I find myself in a situation worse than before. But I've never stopped for that very reason that it's a wish: wishing won't get you anywhere but a hope that costs disappointment. The sleek jet-black sedan sheds off miles as it seamlessly slows to a rest.

"You know how bad it'll be if you mess up?"

My jaw clenches in irritation before I groan, "I get it already."

"Good," Jean's blank stare melts into a wide grin almost creepily. "Get out there and win."

I move my elbow from its resting place on the armrest which had been built into the door, watching the deep imprint slowly regain its original shape like memory foam. Coming back to reality after spending a few seconds in space, I grab at my black shoulder bag. "When are you coming to pick me up?"

I shift my elbow from its resting spot on the armrest which was built into the door, watching the deep imprint gradually regain its original form like memory foam. Coming back after zoning out into space, I grab at my black shoulder bag. "When are you going to pick me up?"

"Just call me when you're done," He smiles at me. "I'll stay around the area."

I nod to myself before he continues, "And remember the button on your inner thigh if anything goes wrong."

"Here," Jean hands me an umbrella, perfect for the rain which knocks against the car windows. I narrowly avoid getting soaked by the collected rain which pours down from the roof by pulling my legs back in. Pushing the umbrella outside the car, it spreads like a butterfly or a flower in bloom. "Thanks."

"Yeah," A few seconds pass before he speaks again. "And- try to tone down the intimidation or like- coldness. I don't know how to describe it but- fix it? It won't do well in a place of power."

I side-eye him, whatever. Instead of voicing my thought, I snort humorlessly and shake my head. I'll be fine; I always have. The sharp soles of my black flats jab at the asphalt, creating that satisfying clicking sound that has always relaxed me as it does now - making my tense shoulders unwind into the black turtleneck which encases them.

I come to a halt at the skyscraper in front of me, most of its windows. The needle on top pierces through the clouds but it isn't anything special when it blends in with its brothers and sisters among the buildings. Taking a deep breath, I open the glass door in front of me, watching the water droplets slide off of my umbrella onto the white marble floor below, and while I'm mesmerized - I'm sure they won't appreciate it as much.

"This is Pyxis Center, may I have your name?" A man dressed in classic black and white walks up to me with a clipboard.

"Gladiolus?" It comes out more of a question than I'd like but I'm sure it can be glossed over.

He quirks a brow in disbelief but shakes it off, "You sure?"

I sniff. "Yes."

Faking certainty, I make a big move. "Here on business with a Scarlett. Scarlett Pyxis."

Both his brows shoot up as he eyes me skeptically, "Right. . . let me get confirmation from Madam first. If you do in fact have a meeting, security will escort you."

I openly stare at him, irritated. "I'll go have a seat," I declare as my eyes catch on a beige and black seating area.

He laughs as if it's almost painful for him, mixed with a groan. "Please. I'll be with you in a bit."

I can hear the remnants of his plastic laugh echo through the lofty lobby. A couple of magazines are on the corner tables which have been paired with seating furniture. Instead of taking enjoyment in those, I unlock my phone and head to my blue-tooth settings when I take a seat. During the briefing, we went over how to connect the ear-piece which would be hidden by my waist-length box braids.

I click the button which pairs the ear-piece to my phone before a voice booms behind me. "What are you doing?"

I flinch at the sudden noise, "Nothing- uh. Just- for my music, I listen- why?"

His eyebrow which was quirked before lowers at my false explanation. "I doubt you'll be listening to it during the meeting," Except I will. "Plus devices aren't allowed past the second floor. Security purposes."

Pushing my tongue against my cheek, I stare into his fresh-water clear blue eyes. "Was I verified?"

He nods his head. "Yes,"

I exhale, "Right. Ready for a walk. . ."

"West," He supplies at my absence of a name.

I hum, ignoring the hand he'd offered to help me out of the seat. I can get out of it much like anyone else. But only after I stand up and straighten out my khaki-colored trousers do I realize I've left him rudely hanging. "Sorry, Wesley. Thank you, though."

"It's West." He gruffly corrects and I'm more in awe that despite his appearance, he's talked to me more than once now.

"Right, West."

"Follow me," I follow him, watching his suit shuffle to conform around the shape of his back muscles.

"Who's she?" One of the bodyguards guarding the elevator gives me a once-over.

"She has a name and 'she' isn't it." Besides, you might find yourself jobless when we arrest your boss.

✕