Standing in front of the door to the boss's office, I sighed. I stood next to the vivid light from the window, and as I stared out at it, every fibre of my being told me to just forget about talking to the boss and jump out into that abyss. Anything was better than having to talk to the boss. Raising my fist to the air, I hesitated to knock on the door. However, after a few seconds, I steeled myself - forcing my hand to collide with the office door.
"Come in," a grumbling voice said from inside.
I sighed, as I gripped the handle and slowly opened the door, forcing myself inside. My boss sat at the desk. He wore that same disappointed expression as he always did, and sitting there in his office chair, the seat squealed in agony as he leaned back against it. A yellow business envelope sat against the stained glass surface, marked with my name, and I was tempted to just grab it and run out - if it weren't for the fact that from the look on his face, he had made it very clear that I wasn't leaving without his say-so.
"Malarie, Malarie," he said. "It seems you've been a little reckless with company property, haven't you?"
"In my defence, I'm not exactly adept with technology," I replied.
"There is no defence!" The boss yelled. "You're not adept at anything, Malarie, not even your bloody job!"
As his temper flared, I could see the rage permeating from the sweat on his skin, molecules of water nearly fizzling like steam against his scalp. If this was his reaction to the relatively minor infraction of breaking an ID pass, my meeting after the Derrick Rodgers case was going to be a nightmare. With a gulp, I sat there, clutching my hands together as I watched him seethe with rage.
"If you don't get your act together by the end of today, I'm blackboarding you," the boss added. "I had such high hopes for you, you know? But you keep disappointing me - you keep disappointing the whole team. There's so many people out there who'd love to take this job and escape the possibility of reincarnation. If you can't get your act together, I'm afraid we might have to let them."
As I sat opposite, I held my tongue - keen to avoid his wrath. Sitting there, he grabbed a coffee mug from beside his computer, leaving a brown ring of coffee against the surface of the glass. Over time, the surface had been painted with those rings. He sipped from the mug as he stared intently at me. On the side of the mug, I could see the phrase "World's Best Boss" printed across the side. Yeah, right, I thought to myself. The lack of self-awareness was astounding.
"I heard Vincent transferred another case over to you this morning," the boss said. "What happened there?"
"Um, he was a bit overwhelmed, said he needed me to take off the pressure," I lied. It was a pretty opaque falsehood. Anybody with decent social awareness would see right through it, but the boss didn't seem to care about that.
"Ah, stressed is he?" The boss said. "I don't blame him. He'll make a real ripper of a case one in every ten times, but most of the time, his stuff's so boring that it'd bring you to tears. He doesn't have the heart for tragedy, not like you and I do."
I felt my stomach churn as the boss compared me to him. I couldn't stand it, being told that I was anything like that monster that sat before me, and placed in the same basket as that horrific, morally-bankrupt tyrant - I felt sickening rage ebb from the core of my being.
"We will never be alike," I snarled. "I'd rather die than be any closer to you."
"The way you're going, that's a very real possibility, kid," the boss threatened.
As the light from the iridescent sea beyond the window shone across the room, I could feel the gold light creeping across my face, illuminating the anger within both of our faces. Staring at the fury upon his face, I could feel that same fury welling within my heart. For a moment, as I felt the same indignation emanate from both of us, that bitter curse of anger heating the air between us - I wondered whether he was right, whether maybe we did have the same hearts. I tried to reign in my ire as I reeled back. After a moment, the boss's temper slowly subsided too.
Perhaps I did have the same heart, built upon the same impulses and desires. However, I knew for a fact that though I might have the same heart, I did not have the same soul. I believed in my principles. He, in his pursuit of authority, had thrown them aside. Tensely staring at the boss, I put my hand forward, snatching the envelope from my desk.
"You're skating on thin ice, Malarie," the boss said. "Remember that. I own you, same as everyone else walking this floor. Don't forget who you're working for here."
"Thanks for the pass," I responded, with vitriol in my voice.
Tearing open the envelope, I put the old pass inside the letter before strapping the new one around my neck, before throwing the envelope lazily into the dustbin at the boss's feet. The light from the window cast its shadows across the room, and as I stared intently at the corpulent man staring opposite me, I could see the darkness of his soul echoed in his shadow. We may be people, bound by the same emotions, but where we differ is in our virtues. At least I'd kept my virtues.
Turning toward the door, I left the boss in the comfort of his office chair as I wandered toward the office door - opening it as I stood in the light, with my stern expression illuminated by the warm opalescent light of the world beyond the window. I smiled, as the warm and almost sunny light edged across my face. With a look to the world beyond, as I stood in the doorway, I remained there for a moment - before turning my head back toward my boss.
"I know who I work for," I said. As I turned around, exiting the room, I left him in the silence of his office - letting him return to sipping from that self-aggrandising mug. I didn't tell him the last part of that answer, instead muttering it under my breath as I left, headed toward the elevator.
"I work for my clients."
