The moment I got outside the dining area, I literally burst out and made my way towards the toilet while disordered thoughts ran around my head, my eyes hastily looking around. But of course, such a lady as I didn't show her anxiety and walked with elegance (or tried to, but ignore such trifles!).
Though this building is fuc-ehem, incredibly huge, so I had no idea where the comfort rooms (toilets, for those who don’t know this term) were.
Stopping an employee to ask, they kindly accompanied me. With a grateful look, I genuinely thanked them and went in the innermost cubicle, locked the door, sat down on the toilet, covered my face, and screamed.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. SHIT. SHIIIIT!
Please excuse me for acting out of character, but this was how I could literally express myself at the moment.
Screaming for so long, my face was flushed and I think my make-up was destroyed. Ugh. Why did you do this, Clarice? You weren't prone to fuck up BIG TIME like this!
Thank fucking god that he took great care in hygiene and literally fixed up toilets. Every cubicle was like a big locker, there was no space for sound or smell to come out in between and the door for each and every cubicle was literally a door. So if you wanted to scream, you could easily do so as your voice won't be heard.
But let me reiterate: Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT. SHIT. SHIIIIT!
Panting from exerting so much effort in screaming at my idiocy, I hurriedly reached for my phone and wasted no time calling Gian.
“GIAAAAN!” I softly shrieked inside the cubicle, panting at my antics.
Hearing how his breath hitched in surprise, I cackled. “Gian! Hey, Kuya(1)! I need heeeelp!” I screamed while whispering if that was possible.
“...What?” Though Gian’s voice was blank and monotonous, I know that was in total confusion.
Well, I would totally get his confusion. Me being like this so badass wasn’t really common, and I rarely let out this kind of me. But of course, Gian knew about this and was just really confused at my sudden noisiness. He had witnessed multiple times the instances where I just let it out. I might have long patience, but it still has a freaking end to it. I would, of course, snap sometimes. It’s an impending situation!
“I-I kinda let out my inner badassery?” I answered with a cutesy voice, trying hard to let him hear that I was totally innocent and pure and kind and gentle.
The silence was deafening.
Then there was a snort.
“Wha-?!” I exclaimed, feeling aghast from Gian’s reaction. “Gian, you bastard! Go laugh all day!”
“Just go home, Clarice.” He finally answered back after a long moment of silence after that snort.
“But what about the interview?”
“Do you really want to go there?”
I bit my lip as I hesitated to answer. To be honest, I don’t know at all. It might just be a sense of obligation since I really owe everything to him, that I want to repay him with everything I could give him, but at the same time… Do I really want to do this? I love him, really so. Me sacrificing all for him is love… right?
Wanting to meet him after so much time had passed would be normal right? Especially when you still love him so much…
Will that make me selfish?
Doing something that made him mad yet wanting to come back to meet him. Yes. I think this is selfishness.
I am such an idiot.
"No…? Yes…? I don't know!“ I cried. My mind’s in a mess. My mind doesn’t want to, but my heart does! What does this make me?!
I heard a soft sigh. “Does he want you there?” A ruthless yet logical question that silenced me, a feeling of desolation covers my whole being.
I know. That's why I am feeling this way.
No, he doesn’t want me here. The immediate answer. But before I could speak, my throat constricted and only a strained gurgle escaped my lips.
No. He would not want me here.
Of course. I was the one who destroyed him, loathing me would be normal.
Being able to just realize this fact, I covered my trembling lips and used all my strength to not breakdown. I hiccuped, feeling the burn in my eyes as tears welled up.
I am not bipolar, okay?! I AM NOT. I know I was laughing so much like a deranged woman earlier, but so many things are happening that I’m not being able to cope up okay?!
But crying like this is really sudden! Ugh, I feel so sick.
“No.” I finally answered, hurting my whole existence. “He will likely kill me on the spot the moment he sees me.”
I know this. But I have been ignoring this fact for so long because it’s not helping me to plan all this. But being this helpless is too tiring.
I just want to meet him. Hopefully, I will be able to apologize for all those things. Hoping that he would even let me speak.
Laughing wryly, I snorted. “Fine.” The feeling of resignation suddenly filled my whole being. “I’ll leave.”
My body abruptly stood up, opening the cubicle door with resolve, and faced the mirror with fiery eyes. Of course, my face now was totally not so damn beautiful. Damn it. Clarice, tears don’t suit your beautiful face!
Putting the phone on speaker, I turned on the faucet and washed my face, and scrubbed all the make-up and feelings away, feeling the burn and rawness. I huffed and snorted once more when I saw my face the second time after. “You’re soooo not beautiful, Clarice. What’s with that haggard face?”
No more of this, this weakness and melancholy and everything. You just decided that you will fight. GIRL. You might have done something wrong, but you’re doing your best to rectify everything right?!
I slapped both of my cheeks.
“Clarice…?” Gian, who was silent throughout my drama, finally couldn’t wait any longer and called my name.
I made a slight smirk on my lips the moment I finished wiping off the water on my face. I nodded in satisfaction. Perfect. “Of course, Gian. I’ll leave.” Throwing the tissues on the trash bin--probably even all those dramas I just let out--and slung my bag on my shoulder.
“After I make some… chaos.”
- Kuya - Older brother
Author wants to say something:
Daddy Wilfred: Come on, Clarice! Say 'Papa'! P-a-p-a, you got it?
Mommy Flory: What do you mean? Of course, Clarice will say Mama! Right, Clarice?
Little Clarice: …'uck!' 'it'! '-ckah!'
Daddy Wilfred and Mommy Flory: …
