1
CHARLES SCEPTOR
Caroline circled her fingers around the door knob lost in the thoughts. Who was that man? How would she get to him?
She grabbed the knob tightly her nerves flooding with a strange emotion. She opened the door and went inside. Looking at the shoe-rack she removed her heels putting them inside, her fingers made contact with the surface of the shelf.
Her hand on it's own started running over the surface, it felt the same back then but something was missing. The intense rain, the gravity of that mili-second she got a little close to him.
She softly slapped her cheeks from both sides trying to focus leaving a small sigh.
She walked inside her home.
The night was the longest she ever saw, the moon was teasing her. The stars were reminding her the sublime she felt back then.
She hugged her pillow tight, submerging her face in it. She picked her phone up, tapped the screen. The brightness caused her eyes to forcibly closed.
In that closure she again remembered that moment, her heart was racing.
"No, it can't be." She unlocked her phone and searched on web about the Nyco Brothers.
The silver shining diary slowly haunting her emotions, she was nervous and tense about her own diary. She bit on the chocolate she always carried, on the second bite it didn't came out of her mouth.
Slowly melting in her mouth, a trail of saliva came out from a side. The scent she remembered, strong enough to slowly damage her nerves.
Again, she picked her phone up and scrolled down the Wikipedia's page.
There was a branch of company near her residential area, her finger pressing on the switch off button again and again.
Then a notification came.
Hotnewspack-...
She clicked on it and surprisingly it was related to one of the manager of Nyco brothers. He works in the near-branch of Nyco. She tried to stop but couldn't and giggled a bit. A plan, a way, a path was for her. The manager is going to play golf with some other clients for a deal.
And they are also recruiting new salespersons. She looked up at his name.
Charles Sceptor. Married, is in his late 20s. So, finally she bit her finger planning her first mission to reach the manager.
The fist step to her diary.
The clock marked at 2 AM. As Caroline slept with her phone on her chest, chocolate marks on her lips.
The moon dimmed and the sun rose. Caroline woke up, scratching her hair. She stood in her slipper, going to the bathroom. Some water splashes on her face, as her motivation was dimmed.
Why should I do that just for that ma-... she paused. Staring at her figure in the mirror. As if she was trying to say something to herself.
"No." She declared. "It's for my diary." She tied her hair and left the bathroom.
<09:18AM>
Caroline was gently adding strokes to her unfinished artwork in the body-sized canvas.
The moment her brushed dipped in the silver colour something clicked. Her face didn't show any emotions but something was burning inside her which she was unaware of.
Why would she take that job? Or was it even a question anymore when a large board filled with short notes of the plan was residing opposite to the canvas.
Her body felt an amazed equilibrium of emotions as she finally completed her art. Half-sunny day slowly corrupted by the rain-fog and the silver platter of the drops.
She sat and remembered her plan one last time. She had to be recruited for the job ar any cost. Any cost? What if it... she stood up from her place and stared at her planned board.
A plain cream crop-top with hot-pink coat. She walked out of her home, and sat in the cab.
The cab driver was somewhat... I should be careful. The cab started as she turned on her phone and checked the review of this man.
"You seem... a newbie?" She spoke, while interlocking her fingers. The man's eyes were on me, from the back-mirror. Then he spoke in an uninterested tone.
"Yeah, joined recently." He looked in front overtaking another car in the way.
The time was slowed or accelerated, I couldn't tell but I reached the place on time.
"Thanks... and here's the tip." I closed the door and looked up, the vast court spanned back to a large area. I saw a bunch of people with golf bags. Will he be here? Too many men. I bit my nail and then started walking near the vanity driver sucking on a cigar nearby.
"Erm... is Mr. Charles present here?" He looked up, i took a step back.
He blew the smoke out, a spark of ember burning on the edge of cigar.
"Sister, he might be in his vanity, third one in this row." He pointed. I bowed a bit showing a thankful agreement amd started hopping towards the van.
A man was leaning on in the front of the van with his top buttons open. I felt a weird but intriguing atmosphere around him.
He was staring at his phone. I slowly approached him.
"Hello Mr. I'm Caroline, could you please tell me where's Mr. Charles?"
He smirked and then closed his phone looking at me. "What's the business?" He studied my body and then took a step closer.
"I.. actually came for the Salesperson recruitment." I spoke deliberately.
He smiled, "Sales person huh? Nice. I could tell you'd make a good sales person." He stood right before me, his face was clean. Better than average,
A faintness of strong manly scent.
"He's in the Vanity." He pointed back with his thumb, as I started to walk slowly he held my shoulder. A spark of awe felt in my body.
My breathing was slowly heightened. "Just a veteran's tip. He's a bloody cheater. So, of you care for yourself. Try to be as far as you could."
He left my shoulder, I swiftly walked towards the door and held the handle, but I didn't open it.
He's a bloody cheater. These words weighed my bosom. He snickered looking at my direction. With a gentle knock I entered the van.
The smell of alcohol shot me in contact. I saw bottles of wine and beer lying on the table, the aesthetic of interior was actually pretty.
A man in black suit facing the wall was there. What should I do? Should I leave ?
I'm...
I heard a faint voice.
I'm such...a...
He then stopped and looked back, my shoulder tightened as I look at him, my hands locked in front.
"Who the hell are you?" A sharp jawline, with light-chocolate beard and mustache. Sleepy and gloomy eyes.
"I... am for the recruit sir." I spoke, maybe I should've been a little more confident.
"Get outta here." He ordered, "Yes, sir?" Did I heard correctly?
"I said Get your puny little face outta my luxury!!" He yelled, I squinted my eyes in fear. His voice primal and raw.
What could've hurt him so bad?
I would have left if it was for pride but...
I could sense something from him, a slumber he's residing in—maybe a heartbreak?
"I'm sorry. I can't," she lowered her gaze. He glared at her.
I'm not scared, but I should be. It's his vanity. He's the manager. He can do anything to me. My eyes drizzled.
My words echoed in my mind like a whip.
Am I ready for this?
Charles moved and faced my direction. He pointed at my coat. What is he doing?
Is he asking for...?
"What's that?" he asked. I looked at my coat, the diary stuffed inside, a corner peeking out. I hid it with my hands, shook my head faintly, and mustered up my courage to speak.
"N... nothing."
He lowered his gaze, staring at the ground.
"Get out." His voice was calm, but it tore through flesh—haunting.
I can't let this opportunity slip. He's the manager, right in front of me. I have to do it.
"It's my d... diary." I took it out, showing it from behind. What if he found out it's important? From his company? What if I got framed for stealing it?
"Hmm... a silver diary. Our boss also has one." He moved the glass on the round table in front of him and started to open the wine.
"You seem to have taken a liking to his attire. I respect the dedication."
I tilted my head, unsure, amused.
Although, I might get in trouble if he saw the pages of this. I stuffed it back into my coat and just stared at him.
"Come here. Take a seat."
He invited me to a drink. If I refused, the offer would slip. But if I accepted, I might slip into something darker—something that shouldn't happen.
I walked over and sat on the sofa, smoothing my skirt properly. The sofa felt rather comfortable and lavish.
He poured the drink into the glass resting beside me. The smell slowly crawled into my head. I can't even stand the smell—how could I tackle this?
He then looked at me while drinking, his gaze slowly sliding from my face to my body. I looked down and opened my lips.
"I am here for the Salesperson recruitment." I closed my eyes, hoping the moment would pass.
He smirked. "Salesperson."
He stood up. I pressed my hand behind my back, slowly pushing to stand as well. I could hear a car engine going off outside, but I don't think anyone could enter here.
He closed the distance—one step, two steps. He stood in front of me. My ears tingled from the sensation.
"You're more than a mere salesperson..."
He seemed drunk.
SLAM!
He punched the wall of the vanity, past my shoulder, and slowly leaned near my face.
What kind of situation am I in? Why is this so... cruel?
Yet I am doing it—for the diary.
I lifted my hand slowly, grabbing his back, and pushed my head to his chest. If I had to be close, this was all I could do to save my dignity.
"My wife... she never talks to me nicely."
He rested his face on my shoulder, sharp jawline digging into my skin.
"I'm here." That's all I could say.
He hugged me tight, his concrete chest pressing on mine, his hand slowly gripping my hair.
I heard his freezing breath. He was asleep.
I pushed him back onto the sofa. His hot but somewhat addicting breath dispersed on my hand.
Is the alcohol affecting me?
What should I do?
BEEP
The vanity's horn rang loud. Are they leaving?
I moved back, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked back one last time, then grabbed the handle.
But... the door was locked. My eyes widened as the vanity started moving. My heart was racing. Nervousness froze my brain. I didn't know what to do, and the alcohol was crushing my consciousness.
"Hello!" I cried out, a desperate attempt to leave. The temperature was rising, and the alcohol worsened it.
My makeup slowly peeled off. I stood straight, looking around. I knocked on the door many times, even the front side. No response.
What is happening?
My eyes blurred with tears. I opened my phone.
"No WiFi? What the hell?"
I looked around desperately for anything. I was confused—couldn't tell what I was doing, just trying something. I opened the drawer.
Aphrodisiacs??
My tension skyrocketed.
If I slept here, and he woke up—if he's a real scumbag...
My vision was fading. My body was heating up. I fell on the bed and blacked out.
The vanity was leaving—out of area, out of town, out of the city.
She was going somewhere she didn't know.
Her dignity hanging by a thread.
What will fate bring to her