CHAPTER 3
Fina began to like rainy days, more so than people might think was healthy. It was hard to put into words, but it was because she had trouble articulating, or even finding her thoughts. When it rained, it helped fill the seemingly empty space that existed in her head.
“So that movie we watched last Saturday?” Her coworker, Mia said smiling brightly. “It was amazing, right? I cried so hard after.”
Dee, her other coworker in the mailroom, butted in gushing. “Oh my god, it was amazing! Kenneth Lin is so gorgeous!”
Void. Nothing but black emptiness. No thoughts. No feelings. Just dust gathering in the corner of her head.
The patter of rain outside the window of the mailroom was loud. It calmed her down a little.
They looked at her like she should have something to say, so she merely nodded. “I agree. He’s beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as our CEO, though!” Mia said, looking off dreamily. “He could be a model.”
“Oh, I know,” Dee said. “He’s so handsome. I hear he’s a playboy though.”
Once again, Fina found it difficult to navigate conversations like this. She used to do it so well it was like second nature to her. Now she barely knew what time it was.
Dee seemed to notice her peculiar expression and pulled out her phone to show Fina a picture of the CEO. Fina wanted to snap at herself to get out of it, but it was like a sink hole. A slow, dull sinkhole that made her feel neither here nor there. Fina was something she needed to control next time so they aren’t worried about her.
Her coworker’s phone was bright pink with yellow polka dots on it. On Dee’s screen saver was her next to a man, most likely her fiancée. Fina wondered what sort of thoughts came into her and her loved one’s heads. They couldn’t be like her, since she would never think to put anything on her phone other than what was essential. But Fina also had a fiancée. Is this what people do? Is this what she should do?
Those thoughts evaporated in her head like cold steam as soon as she thought them, and were replaced with white noise.
Dee clicked on her web browser and pulled up a picture of a man who could be described as “handsome.” He stood in front of a press conference. He looked no older than twenty-seven. His hair was a deep, jet black and his eyes were dark. His skin was pale, and he looked toward the camera with confidence.
The headlines surrounding him read as follows:
Youngest man to take over Heel Line Company at age 23.
Brilliant Man Wins International Business Contract
Huh. Fina smiled again, but this time she tried to exaggerate it and showed her teeth. This seemed to satisfy her coworkers, and they didn’t look at her funny again.
Later that day, she received a text message from her fiancé:
“We need to talk.”
“Ok.” She replied.
He left her on read. Good. He read it.
How did she react usually? Was she demanding? Fina couldn’t remember.
Increasingly Fina turned to the TV to learn how to act normally. She saw an interview earlier that day where the host asked women on the street what the worst thing to text someone was.
One responder said that when someone receives a text message from a loved one or close friend saying, “we need to talk,” “I have something to tell you tomorrow” “Can you meet me, I have something to tell you,” It means something very bad and can induce anxiety.
People described how their stomachs would twist with anxiety. They described the situation as terrifying, because they didn’t know what was going to happen.
But Fina didn’t feel terrified. She didn’t feel anything in particular anymore.
It felt as if she were—in the best terms possible—going with the flow. Her mind was as blank as possible, eerily quiet. When she had a thought float through her head it would disappear like someone was pushing it down or throttling it. Like someone didn’t want her to think like that.
There wasn’t anything wrong with her as far as she knew. She knew how to eat, how to drink, when to pay her rent, and how to communicate with others on a basic level. She hadn’t lost anything.
But had the hardest time relating to others. Her expressions were blank, even as a child. She would stare at people for long periods of time. One time, when she was six, she stared at her cousin, Elaine. Elaine had entered the room and Fina waited for her to acknowledge her. She wanted to ask if she could play with her on the swing set outside, because her aunt wouldn’t let anyone else except for Elaine to use it, since it was Elaine’s swing.
Apparently, she stared at Elaine for too long and Elaine ran out of the room, crying. Almost immediately, Fina was slapped in the face by her aunt.
“What are you staring at her for?” her aunt shouted.
And now she was back to being the Icy Princess again.
Sometimes she tried, when she was working her office job and talking with her coworkers, to articulate exactly what she thought of the movie she had seen earlier that week. What her opinion was of the latest item at the cosmetic’s department. But when she tried reaching into her thoughts, it was almost like nothing was there. She had no opinions.
Fina was a writer in her spare time. She knew that much at least. She could write, and quite successfully. In her free time she would write children’s books.
Or maybe that was just something she convinced herself of. Maybe she didn’t like writing at all. It was like the words she spoke.
“Writer.”
Is that what she was? She would pen manuscripts and the first time she submitted, she was accepted. Her books sold well, but not enough to live off of. That’s why she got a job at a corporation.
Truth be told, she really didn’t know what she was.
As Fina walked down the corridor of the Fashion Department, she passed by the office where Ryan HeelRiven, the CEO of the entire Heel Line Enterprise group sat in his glass office.
She felt his eyes on her from the other side of the glass, but she kept walking by anyway.
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