Work Text:
“—And that concludes February’s monthly company meeting. We’re making good progress towards our quarterly goals, so we urge everyone to continue working to their fullest.” The man from upper management clicks the remote on the carousel slide projector, revealing the last slide of the presentation: an illustration of several smiling employees working at their cubicle with the caption, “Staying in line is the path to success!” He spares a glance over the crowded room of employees before returning his attention to the table of supervisors. “Lastly, we request that all supervisors conduct performance reviews for all of the employees under their care by the end of this week, as well as compiling the necessary reports for assessment. We cannot afford any deadweight.”
Simone, who had been carefully taking notes, nearly drops her pen. A performance review? Isn’t that basically just interviewing for the job you already have? The thought fills her with dread. She raises her head, hoping to sneak a glance at her own supervisor. She nearly has a heart attack when she sees the monochromatic woman’s eyes already locked onto her, smile unfaltering and even sending a wink towards Simone. Simone’s eyes snap back to the notepad in her hand, begging her nerves to calm the hell down.
Nora loves to tease Simone, it seems, and Simone isn’t sure if it’s good-natured or not. She’s a woman of immense power and conviction, either incapable of emotions or extremely adept at suppressing and hiding them. (Simone believes that it’s the latter – a memory of the façade seemingly faltering for a split second when Simone mentioned a life outside of work is her only proof, but that moment felt substantial, important.) Either way, she’s a force to be reckoned with, and has a way of getting under Simone’s skin. It isn’t always a bad feeling, much to her surprise – it’s a sensation adjacent to the anxiety that frequently plagues her, but somehow Nora morphs it into something new and exciting. Maybe she should be more worried about what that says about her, but her life is already filled with worries. She’ll let it slide for now.
She’s pulled from her musings when she feels a hard slap on the back. Charlene stands behind her, smarmy grin in its usual place.
“Hey, newbie! Worried about the performance review, huh? Can’t say that I relate, though. Because of my impeccable abilities, they always end up getting waived. Not everyone can be as amazing as me, huh?”
“The ability to be the daughter of a CEO is impressive in its own way, I guess…”
“What was that?”
“Ah, I was just saying how impressive that is!”
“Yes! I’m glad you can recognize true superiority when you see it! You see—” Simone tunes the rest of the self-congratulatory ramble out. As she stands up from her chair, her eyes instinctively drift back to Nora, but the woman is in the middle of a discussion with another supervisor. She really needs to get back to work, anyways – quotas don’t take into account mandatory meetings, after all. Simone sighs at the thought and makes her way out of the conference room. A hand on her shoulder quickly stops her, and she turns around to see Charlene, a more genuine smile replacing her typical smirk.
“Try not to worry too much, yeah? For a newbie, you’re pretty competent!” Her earnestness is quite refreshing, Simone thinks. She smiles back at Charlene.
“Well, thanks. I’ll try my best.” Suddenly, like a whip of cold air, Simone feels a pair of eyes drilling into the back of her head. She freezes, stiffly turning her head to look over her shoulder. Nora is smiling at the two of them, hands folded neatly on the table, but something about her aura unsettles Simone. She decides it’s time to get the hell out of there, dashing through the double doors and racing back to her desk. Chatting instead of working…and right in front of her boss, too! Simone mentally scolds herself. Get back to work. Just keep working. Don’t give them any reason to replace you.
She feels a headache coming on, but she powers through it. It’s times like these where she really feels like this job is killing her. She can never let her guard down, not even for a moment. The stress of it all has her wound tight, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.
The alert tone on her computer causes her to flinch, much to her chagrin. The message is simple and straight to the point.
BUSINESS SOLUTIONS CHTHONIC ENTERPRISE
From MS ██████
01555████x003 MON 0█ FEBRUARY 198█ 13:05
To 01555████x9140
MS DEL ROSARIO
Dear Ms Del Rosario
Your performance review is scheduled for 2 p.m. this Friday. Please arrive at my office by this time. Lateness may incur a penalty.
Nora █████
Senior Manager, Sector ██
A pit forms in Simone’s stomach as she reads the message. Logically, she knows she is a diligent worker: going above and beyond what’s asked of her, working unpaid overtime more often than not, and putting the company’s wants far above her needs. Emotionally, however, the performance review strikes a deep fear inside of her. Under the judgemental gaze of her supervisor, would she tense up like usual? It doesn’t help that she’ll have to go up to the ninth floor – will there be some sort of test in the elevator again? Simone shivers at the thought. Just in case, she should plan for a delay of at least 20 minutes. Nora pointed out that she was barely on time for her interview after all, as if Simone should have known that the company she was applying to was a mass of eldritch horrors, mandatory escape rooms, and death.
Ever since that day, she began carrying scissors in her bag. She refuses to be caught off-guard again.
Her brow wrinkles as she takes her glasses off and attempts to massage away the growing pain between her eyes. She needs to focus on her current workload before she stresses over this, she knows. She steels herself before throwing herself back into work.
When Simone is finally home, she immediately slumps against her front door. It’s already so late, but she really should eat something. She kicks off her heels with zero grace and slips into her slippers before padding over to her refrigerator. She winces when she only finds some milk, butter, ginger, and eggs waiting for her on their shelves. She closes the door and drags herself to the cupboard instead, pulling out a box of plain cereal. Doing the dishes would require too much energy, so she simply eats directly from the bag, something that would probably cause her mother to collapse from embarrassment. It’s fine, though – at least she’s actually eating something today.
Simone slides down against the wall, too tired to stand even a moment longer. How much longer can she live like this, realistically? With every passing day, it feels like she’s losing the grip that’s holding herself together. Her thoughts drift to Nora, with her perfect posture and her perfect appearance and her perfect smile. There’s a tinge of envy, yes, but beyond that, Simone is curious. How long has she been working at this company, Simone wonders? Is she really as otherworldly as she always appears? And what does Nora see in Simone? Even at her cruelest – perfectly manicured nails clawing into Simone’s skin and ripping away her face and identity – she stressed the notion that Simone could always go back and make the correct choices. She stressed that Simone can overcome her weaknesses.
…Does Nora remember those lost timelines, too? Charlene always acted as if she remembered nothing, but Nora herself holds no qualms with displaying surrealisms. The thought is mortifying, especially when Simone’s first interview attempt started and ended with her taking a step into the wide blue sky and, predictably, falling to her demise. Nora simply floated above her, completely unperturbed by the absurd lack of self-preservation and common sense. Just thinking about it causes Simone to lightly thunk her head against the wall – twice, for good measure. She’s too tired to be embarrassed right now, she decides. With a sigh, she closes the box of cereal and returns it to the cupboard: the promise of a hot shower and a cozy bed being the only things motivating her to lift herself up off the ground. It’s shaping up to be a long week, and Simone needs as much rest as she can get.
By the time Friday rolls around, Simone’s nerves are already frayed to their limits. The appointment time keeps creeping closer, unwilling to even let her breathe. Even more than ever before she drowns herself in work, hoping to boost her chances of a good impression, with the added bonus of distraction. Her work output is at an all-time high, which to her chagrin has not decreased the amount of work given to her. Even though she’s nervous, she just wants to get this over with. So, when she notices it’s already 1:30, she practically jumps out of her chair and dashes to the elevator. Her hands only slightly shake when she hits the ‘up’ button. She’s almost expecting Charlene to materialize behind her and stick her overpriced shoe in the door, but she’s truly alone this time.
The ninth floor button lights up without issue, but Simone knows better than to let her guard down just yet. As the elevator rumbles upward, she keeps her eyes glued to the sliding doors in front of her. Her left hand has a death grip on her scissors in contrast to the slow, calm journey past the hole, past the mouth, past… them. (She holds her breath as she passes the eighth floor, either from fear or guilt.) The elevator’s ding when it reaches the ninth floor is probably the best thing Simone has heard in years.
As the doors slide open, Simone isn’t greeted with the open sky she had been expecting, but instead a seemingly normal office floor. Even still, she tentatively taps her foot on the carpet, just to make sure it’s real and won’t shatter upon impact. Satisfied that she won’t immediately die, Simone steps off of the elevator, taking extreme care not to trip or to get her jacket stuck in the doors, somehow. She wouldn’t be surprised if forces greater than she can imagine forced her back into the elevator for another twisted game.
The ninth floor is quiet. Most other employees are typing furiously at their desks, not sparing Simone any attention. She thinks Human Resources is up here somewhere, if she remembers correctly. Maybe she’ll get around to filing a complaint. Maybe. The cubicles fall back after a moment, leaving Simone alone in front of a glass wall. There’s a door to the right, with a placard that says “Senior Manager’s Office”. Glancing at her watch, she sees it’s only 1:35. Would it be bad to go in this early? What if Nora is in the middle of another meeting? Well, being so early should be seen in a positive light, in any case. Convinced, Simone brings her fist up to the door, knocking three times.
A moment passes.
When there is no response, she reluctantly adds a fourth knock.
Nothing.
Her confidence begins to falter.
As she glances around, she realizes that the space appears to be literally falling back as everything around her is swallowed up into a void of nothingness; the emptiness spreading like a fire until it’s almost nipping at Simone’s ankles. Terrified, she presses against the door, cowering from the encroaching death of space. It’s then that the door suddenly swings open, leaving Simone to stumble forward before catching the doorframe to prevent her complete collapse. Her heart pounds erratically and she can taste the adrenaline like electricity on her tongue, but she still has the sense to turn her gaze forward instead of on the floor. Above her is a smiling Nora, clearly pleased to see Simone already flustered and floundering.
“Ah, Ms. Del Rosario! You’re early. That’s very good~! You know how I do not tolerate tardiness, after all.” She steps aside, allowing Simone to recover and get back on her feet. “Did you run into any trouble getting here?”
“Ah, no ma’am. Everything went smoothly.”
“...Is that so? Well, I may need to have a talk with maintenance about that.”
“Uh, pardon?”
“Please, come in! Take a seat.” Nora ignores Simone’s inquiry, opting instead to make her way back to her own desk. Simone follows suit, taking in the new environment. There are quite a lot of plants, surprisingly. She didn’t take Nora to be one with a green thumb (or any form of color, really.)
“I like your office. It’s quite, uh, lively,” Simone muses. She hears Nora clap her hands together.
“Isn’t it just? It’s something of a hobby for me, though I won’t get into the details right now. We’re here for your performance review, after all~!” She lifts a pen from its place on her desk and begins writing. Her penmanship is impeccable, as expected. Simone fidgets in her seat as her own imperfections seem to bleed to the forefront.
“There’s no need to be so nervous, dear. Remember, you can always go back and make the correct choice, yes?” Nora’s smile isn’t friendly, but it doesn’t feel as predatory as usual. It calms Simone’s nerves somewhat.
“...Right. I’ll remember that.” Nora chuckles at Simone’s lukewarm response.
“Excellent~! Then, shall we get started?”
Simone is ready for whatever Nora can throw at her. Questions about her kidneys, grief, half-lives, anything. She won’t be thrown for a loop at whatever bizarre question falls from her lips. Nora glances at the paper on her desk, seemingly considering it, before her eyes land back on Simone.
“Well, to start… How would you rate yourself as an employee, on a scale of 1 to 10?” Oh hell no.
There is no correct answer to this, Simone knows. Supervisors just ask this question to watch people flounder. She tries to keep her exasperation off of her face, but Nora’s eyes crinkle with her growing smile – the woman must have noticed. Simone quickly clears her throat and shifts in her seat. She needs to think carefully about this.
>Refuse to answer the question
This question is functionally useless. I might as well voice that. “You don’t rate a cog on how well it performs. It either accomplishes its purpose, or it gets replaced. If I’m able to complete the work assigned to me, why would it matter what rating I get? I’m useful either way.” Nora’s pen scratches something out on the paper before meeting Simone’s eyes, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Uh-oh.
“A cog can still show signs of degradation, making it more likely to fail in the future if steps aren’t taken to avoid that. A poor choice of metaphor for your point, Ms. Del Rosario, though I do appreciate your acknowledgment of your replaceability.” The smile is still plastered on her face, but Nora’s tone is completely flat.
That was absolutely not the right answer.
Though I don’t agree, maybe some humility would work well here… “I would probably give myself a ‘one’. It’s always best to see the current version of yourself as the worst version and strive to always improve because of that. You can never be complacent with where you are!” Simone tries to smile as she delivers vague self-help lines. Nora claps her hands together.
“Yes, I agree that we must all push ourselves for the improvement of the company!” Simone nearly breathes a sigh of relief, but then Nora continues, gray eyes sharp as ever. “However, if you are a ‘one’ now, how would you know if you’ve been improving since starting the job? If you really feel like there’s been no change… well… maybe you aren’t as adaptable or observant as I thought,” she smiles politely. She makes a show of tapping her pen against the paper a few times before choreographing the motions of writing an ‘X’. That’s probably not a good sign…
“Ten out of ten. Give me a raise.”
“...It appears you would rather try your hand at comedy than work here any longer, it seems! Well, we won’t stop you from following your passion!”
There was no way that was ever going to work…
“I think… I would give myself a five.”
“What a safe, normal answer! Why, sticking out too much from either end would be troublesome, wouldn’t it?” Nora steeples her fingers together and tilts her head to the side, a challenging look in her eyes. Simone takes a deep breath to steady herself.
“I want to strive to become a ‘ten’, but I think it would be foolish to grant myself such praise right now. I would like to be of more use, even if it means sticking out a bit.” With each additional word, Nora’s smile widens, and Simone can’t tell if it’s proud or predatory.
“Well put! And generally, I agree with your assessment… though you may be lowballing yourself to appear humble, hmm~?” Nora chuckles at a joke seemingly only she understands, but Simone isn’t too perturbed – it appears Nora is in a good mood, at least. Emboldened, Simone takes it a step further.
“I’d like to hear which areas you think I can improve in so I can focus my attention on those. I… I want to keep growing with this company.” As she speaks the words, Simone realizes that it’s the truth. What was originally an embellishment in her mind to emphasize her loyalty to the company earnestly settles down in her heart. It feels a bit like hope in its brightness and fragility.
Nora rises from her seat, movements swift and precise as she rounds the desk to stand right in front of Simone.
“Truly, you are one of our hardest-working employees. You go above and beyond. I cannot criticize your work ethic.” She circles the seated woman, not unlike a shark, but this woman is far more dangerous than any fish. Simone swallows.
“Yes, you absolutely ‘go above and beyond’… however, sometimes your work lacks finesse, especially the work done later in the week. It’s as if I can see you run out of steam through your mistakes and sub-par writing. While it’s important to work hard, it cannot come at the cost of quality, yes?” Simone blanches. How could she possibly fix such a thing? It isn’t as if she wants to feel so drained that she can’t even see straight by every Friday. Uncaring of Simone’s panic, Nora continues.
“Is it a health problem, perhaps? You know, this company requires thorough medical checks. Or is it perhaps something more mundane?” She glances at Simone’s cheeks, which have recently become gaunt. “Are you exercising? Eating properly? Though you always take what I consider more than enough time on your lunch breaks, so I don’t know where the issue would lie!” The thinly-veiled insult doesn’t quite hit Simone until she hears Nora quietly tutting.
“I must insist that you take care of yourself more properly. In the bigger picture, it’s like taking care of company property, yes? Your personal well-being extends beyond you and affects those around you. Why, should you make a serious mistake due to exhaustion and cause trouble for our reputation… how do you think such a thing should be handled?” Simone breaks into a cold sweat and shivers as a million terrible ideas pop into her mind, but the most prominent image is of herself stuffed back into that elevator, doors no longer functioning, and forced to become another piece of some other hire’s puzzle. Alone, abandoned, and trapped.
“I…I wouldn’t let it get that bad…” she weakly responds. This isn’t her fault. This is not her fault. Why else would she be too exhausted to eat other than the massive workload that never seems to shrink? Nora is expecting two diametrically-opposed qualities in Simone, and she does it all with a smile on her face.
“No, I don’t think you would, either. At least, as your supervisor, I wouldn’t allow it to get that bad.” Dread ensnares Simone, slithering around her throat. Those words left no room for argument.
“I’m aware, ma’am…” Simone’s voice comes out resigned, defeated. Nora stops and claps her hands together: a facsimile of suddenly having an idea, yet Simone can feel that none of this conversation has surprised the other woman, and she’s once again caught in her web.
“Could it be that you aren’t having dinner? That might explain your excessive breaks for lunch, as well.” Nora tilts her head to the side. “Have you considered coming in earlier? That might help with your… scheduling issues, let’s call them.” The grin on her face is so blatantly fake in these moments. Its sharp edges cut into Simone and cause her to react instinctively.
“With all due respect, that isn’t a business matter. I’ll find a way to keep the quality of my work consistent. I’m sorry if it has ever been a problem, but I’ll make sure to take care of it.” Simone tries to keep her tone balanced, but the words still taste caustic as they leave her mouth. She already gives so much of herself to this company – must they cast their judgemental eyes on her lifestyle outside of work, as well?
She comes back to herself a split second later, indignation melting away and leaving anxiety in its place. Nora has stopped, looking like a doll without a puppetmaster. An inscrutable expression replaces the usual grin. The rest of the world fades to black, shading over Nora’s face, and yet her eyes still shine out in the darkness. Watching. Analyzing. For that brief moment in between breaths, true terror strikes her heart, but in the next moment, it’s as if Nora never faltered, light returning to the room and smile slipping back into place. The only reason Simone knows it wasn’t a figment of her imagination is the way her heart is still trying to make its way out of her chest.
“I see~ It’s a shame, but I guess I cannot force you to do anything outside of work, even if it would greatly affect how well you’re able to perform your job. What a conundrum~” There’s an edge to Nora’s voice that causes Simone’s shoulders to tighten. She really wishes she was anywhere other than here right now. As if answering her prayers, a fax comes through Nora’s machine at that moment, drawing both of their attention. Simone’s muscles relax as Nora turns away from her – her heels click with purpose as she strides towards the machine. She scans the message before turning back to Simone with a smile.
“Well, I’m afraid we’re going to need to stop here for now. Something rather urgent has come up.” Simone breathes a sigh of relief as stands, ready to put this whole ordeal behind her. However, despite being across the room just a moment ago, Nora’s hand is already on her shoulder, holding her in place while she leans even further into Simone’s personal space. “You know, despite it not being directly a business matter, the health of my subordinates is still part of my responsibility. Trying to deny guidance and help on such a serious matter would be foolish and dangerous. Don’t you agree?” Simone can feel the pressure of Nora’s hand on her shoulder, a presence that is neither warm nor cold. The sensation is extremely jarring.
“...I understand.” Simone knows that she isn’t going to win this. It’s better to just give them what they want. ( How much more will I be able to give by the end of this? Will there be anything left? ) She bows her head to Nora before turning around to leave.
“Ms. Del Rosario.”
Why can’t she just leave?
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I don’t think this is something that can be solved with just a simple agreement.” Nora is back at her desk, reading over the memo that came through the fax machine just a few moments prior. ‘Exasperation’ isn’t a strong enough word to describe how Simone is feeling, but she tries to hold her tongue in any case.
“So… for tonight at least, I will make sure you eat properly. I already have a reservation at Saturne. Please accompany me tonight.”
…Huh? Is that…is that allowed? Simone fluctuates between feeling overwhelmed and frustrated; a mess of emotions that masks an even deeper fear. Desperate, she tries to politely rebuke.
“N–No, I wouldn’t want to impose–”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” Even while seated at her desk, it feels like Nora is still towering over Simone. Her throat goes dry at the thought. The blank expression returns as her glowing eyes burrow into Simone, swallowing her whole, before reverting back to its eerie calmness. She continues.
“I think a more relaxed setting would make this review more…productive, as well. Wouldn't you agree?”
“I think–”
“Excellent!! I expect you at the front doors at 6 exactly. Do try to finish your work and don’t keep me waiting~” Before Simone has a chance to argue further, she finds herself already outside of the manager’s office once again. If there’s one thing this company is good at, it’s strong-arming its issues into submission. She clenches her teeth at the thought.
The elevator ride back down doesn’t even phase her, this time. She simply inserts the lobby key and lets time pass over her. The small mouse keychain attached to the lobby key wobbles playfully with the rumble of the elevator, completely unaware of the absolute terror that surrounds it.
…Maybe Simone is being a bit overdramatic. She anxiously cleans her glasses on her blouse while the floors pass her by. When she reaches her destination, she drops the key back into her bag and scuttles back to her desk. It’s times like these where she’s grateful for her ability to throw herself into work. She welcomes the distraction. She tries to keep the storm of thoughts at bay.
(The thoughts that this is a clear breach of etiquette – her work should never encroach onto her personal life. She has to have space away from all of this, or else she really might go insane. Her psyche would diminish even faster than it has been, bleeding her dry until she’s just a husk of who she used to be. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair. But…)
She needs this job.
By 5:30, Simone has already completed all of the data processing assigned to her for the day. This is no small feat, as it usually takes well into the night to finish her daily tasks. Her efforts do come at a cost though, as she is beginning to feel dizzy. She massages her temples on her way to the restroom, hoping to ease any of the tension beginning to form there. The restaurant Nora named is an up-scale one, so it would be wise to make herself look a little more presentable.
One thing she really does love about this company is how clean the restrooms are. It probably doesn’t outweigh the dozens of safety hazards strewn about the building, but it is nice to have somewhere to splash her face and fix her clothes without feeling gross about it. As she takes in her reflection, she notices how prominent her cheekbones have become. Has she really been skipping that many meals? It’s disturbing, to put it lightly.
As she takes inventory, she notices with dismay that there’s a slight run in her stockings. She gently rotates the nylon so that it’s in a less conspicuous location on the inside of her lower thigh. It’s going to slide back to its original place eventually, but it’s a short-term fix for now, at least. Her thoughts turn to Nora, whose stockings never seem to have runs or tears, whose nylon stretches evenly across her legs. In fact, everything about Nora screams “effortless”. She’s always in top form, never a single hair out of place. Maybe it’s the fact that it seems so unattainable that Simone can’t bring up any real feeling of envy, but it does cause some mixture of emotion to stir. Admiration, maybe? But that doesn’t feel like the whole truth. Perplexing, but it isn’t something Simone can dwell on right now. She grants herself one last look in the mirror, not entirely pleased with what she sees, before exiting the restrooms.
It’s 5:50 according to Simone’s watch by the time she arrives at the front doors. It’s a good thing there have never been escape room puzzles in the lobby, or else she definitely would have been late. She’s deep in thought when a voice yanks her back to the present.
“I trust you were able to complete your assigned tasks?” Simone jumps when she hears Nora’s voice, who has somehow snuck up behind her in the middle of a giant lobby.
“Yes, of course!” Simone quickly answers with a high-pitched voice, much to her embarrassment. Nora tilts her head in response.
“Hmm, you seem out of breath… Your lungs are still working alright, yes?”
“Yes…” Maybe after today, she’ll finally update her resume to specify the functionality of her lungs…
“Excellent! Then let’s be on our way, hm?” Nora smiles at her before stepping towards the doors. Before her hand makes contact with the exit door, Nora’s stalls for less than a moment: the usual fluidity of her motions marred by a single frame of stillness. Simone doesn’t say anything as she quickly pushes the door open for the both of them, feigning ignorance of the misstep.
“Ah, thank you Ms. Del Rosario! How very polite of you~” Maybe Simone is simply seeing what she wants to see, but Nora’s smile seems more earnest in that moment. She nods slightly as the two of them exit the building before Nora naturally takes the lead.
“You haven’t applied for a parking pass, so I assume you typically take public transport, yes? In that case, I will drive us.” Nora’s explanation is smooth and to the point, and Simone is grateful for it. The image of Nora sitting across from her on a subway feels so very wrong. The black car parked out front is sleek, despite Simone never seeing it actually move. In fact, she was halfway inclined to believe it was a prop to simply make the company ‘look better’, but it also makes sense that such a pristine car belongs to the monochromatic woman. Simone takes her seat on what is definitely the most expensive upholstery she will ever touch in her life before Nora joins her from the other side.
As they pull out into the street, Simone wonders if Nora expects her to break the silence, since she opted not to turn the radio on. Or maybe the woman prefers a quiet car ride? She begins subconsciously picking at a loose thread on her blazer before she hears Nora sigh.
“I really prefer the traffic later in the day, you know. So many people driving at the same time is so inefficient and chaotic. There’s no organization to it at all.”
“Ah, yeah… The subways are usually packed during this time, too.”
“I can imagine! Perhaps that’s why you fared well in the elevator. You’re probably used to being packed in like a sardine, after all,” Nora remarks. It’s another one of those instances where Simone isn’t sure if she should be offended or not.
“Maybe…” She’d really prefer not to think about the elevator right now. Her hand instinctively goes into her bag, where her scissors await her. She calms down somewhat once she feels the cold metal.
The rest of the drive goes by in silence. The light from the streetlamps begin to blur pleasantly as Simone’s vision begins losing focus. There’s something very soothing in letting the rest of the world’s color bleed together until nothing is distinguishable, though she rarely gets the chance to feel this way. She wonders how Nora sees the world, and if the colors are too bright for someone like her, as well.
She’s jerked from her melancholic musings when the car rolls to a stop. A young woman in her twenties stands behind a podium outside the doors of the building, keeping her eyes on Nora as she exits the vehicle.
“Good evening. I’ll bring your car around to our parking… I’ll just need your keys and your name.” The woman fidgets slightly, seemingly on edge from Nora’s watchful gaze. Simone can relate.
“Thank you dear,” she replies while dropping the keys into the woman’s hands. “And it’s Nora.” Her hand lands on Simone’s lower back. “Well then, let’s get going, hm~?” She smiles plastically before ushering Simone through the front doors.
The restaurant is opulence personified: sleek, shiny marble floors, dim lighting from candle-lit chandeliers, and gold-plated accents on the walls that shimmer with the overhead glow. There’s only a handful of tables, adding to the exclusivity, where men in three-piece suits and women in gowns dine quietly. In summary, Simone has never felt so out of place. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it however, as a busty woman with dark red hair soon greets them.
“Hello! Ms. Nora, I take it? Please, come this way!” The waitress has a bounce in her step and a joy in her voice that completely clashes with her environment. Still, it takes the edge off of Simone’s own feeling of misplacement. As they’re seated, Nora nods at the waitress.
“Please pass on my thanks to your boss. I know she isn’t fond of last-minute reservations, after all.” The waitress perks up at that.
“Of course! The owner owes you a great deal, after all. I’ll start you ladies off with some water. Oh! My name is Rody, by the way.” She quite literally runs off before either of them has a chance to respond. Simone tilts her head as she finally processes the exchange.
“I thought you said you already had a reservation…?”
“What was that?”
“Nothing…”
“Excellent~!” Across the table, Nora’s gray face gains the slightest bit of color from the candlelights. Only now does Simone realize that her lips are slightly velvety – a darker shade from the rest of her face. Does Nora usually wear lipstick? She can’t help but wonder where her boss even found this (lack of) pigment.
Rody arrives with a pitcher of water, filling their glasses with an attempt at flourish.
“Do you know what you’d like to order? Would you like a suggestion?” She quickly pulls out a notepad, patting around her pockets before finally grabbing the pen lodged in her ponytail.
“You don’t have any dietary restrictions, correct?”
“No, ma’am, but I–”
“Then, we will both go with the chef’s choice, along with a bottle of wine.”
“Two chef’s choice and a bottle of wine! Got it!” Simone gives Nora an incredulous look, something that seems to amuse the other woman.
“I can’t have you skimping because you don’t want to impose, now can I? Just enjoy the evening, Ms. Del Rosario.”
“I… ok.” It’s easier not to argue, and besides, Nora did clock Simone quite well - she was planning on ordering just a salad. Still, she would appreciate more autonomy, especially in a non-office setting.
“Very good. Well, I suppose we should continue our previous conversation now, yes? You’ve been working on our team for nearly four months now. Off the record, are you enjoying it?” (Bullshit it’s off the record, Simone thinks, before taking a large sip of water.)
“It feels good to be useful,” Simone answers carefully, watching Nora’s face for any hint of disappointment. The faux joy remains firmly in place, not giving away anything.
“Yes, well, we certainly aren’t keeping you around to spare your feelings! You really are performing admirably. Your durability is particularly impressive~” This catches Simone’s attention. Of course, durability could refer to how she puts in extra hours to finish projects, but she gets the feeling that isn’t what Nora is referring to.
She’s never been given validation about her experiences with death in the elevator. Charlene adamantly refuses to talk about it, and her blood on Simone’s hands makes her hesitant to push further. Maybe… maybe Nora could, though.
“...You know, I–” Simone is immediately cut off by the sound of a bucket hitting the table. Rody uncorks the champagne and fills their flutes with the bubbly liquid before returning the bottle to its icy bucket.
“Your meal will be out shortly! Please enjoy this Blanc de Noirs champagne while you wait!” Simone deflates a little as she watches Nora pick up her flute to take a sip.
“You were saying?” Nora smiles over her glass of wine. Maybe now isn’t the best time to bring up something so serious… Simone decides to switch gears and switches to a safer topic.
“Do you enjoy working at the company?” Nora laughs.
“Well, enjoyment is hardly a factor for me. I have a role that I need to fulfill, after all. Though I will admit work has become much more… enjoyable since we hired you.” She uncrosses and recrosses her legs as she rests her cheek in her hand.
“I enjoy watching my subordinates work so earnestly.”
Simone can feel a blush begin to form on her cheeks, even though she has yet to touch her own wine glass.
“Ahh…Well…” Honesty is the best policy, but the words would flow smoother if her tongue was a little looser. She takes a large sip of champagne before continuing. “I’d hate to disappoint you,” she says in a rush. She takes another sip to chase the embarrassment, but her cheeks still feel hot.
“My, my! How committed~! I’m quite impressed, I must say. It feels like it’s been such a long time since this company has seen such an earnest worker!” Emboldened, Simone decides to go a step further.
“You’re an extraordinary worker, after all. I would feel guilty if my boss was giving it her all while I slacked off.” Maybe she’s laying on a little too thick, but it is how she feels. Her wine glass is half-empty now while Nora’s remains nearly full. Luckily, Rody is soon bringing their meals, saving Simone from going too over-the-top.
“Tonight’s meal is a frenched rack of lamb in a cognac butter sauce served with a savory souffle of brie, goat cheese, and morel mushrooms, as well as roasted brussel sprouts. The lamb is so tender, you don’t even need a knife!” The dish is plated exquisitely, its pleasant aroma wafting through the air and causing Simone to nearly drool. It has been ages since she’s had a proper dinner, she realizes. She won’t let this opportunity go to waste, she decides.
“Please enjoy!” Rody exclaims before departing, leaving the two to their meals. Not wanting to give away her eagerness, Simone delicately brings her fork between two bones, separating them and spearing a small piece that had fallen free. She gingerly brings it up to her lips before placing it in her mouth. The lamb is extremely tender, as Rody had said, melting on her palate and lighting up her tastebuds with its savory flavor. Oh, it’s delicious.
“Wow…” She eagerly samples the rest of the meal, each part adding to the symphony of flavors and textures. So this is how the other half lives… Suddenly, Simone is very envious of Charlene, who probably has meals like this on the regular. She hears Nora chuckle across from her.
“I take it you enjoy it, then? Very good~” Her fork comes down on her own souffle, impossibly light and fluffy. She only takes the smallest bit from the top. It abruptly reminds Simone of something else she wanted to ask about. She takes another sip of wine before continuing.
“You know, I hardly ever see you in the lunchroom. Your car is always there when I arrive and when I leave, even when I leave hours after everyone else.” She knows Nora is a dedicated worker, but it causes a question to nag at her mind. What if Nora was so insistent about Simone taking care of herself because… “Are…are you taking care of yourself, ma’am?”
The fork freezes in midair as her saccharine grin remains plastered on Nora’s face. The air suddenly feels much colder than before. It’s almost enough to make Simone want to run away, but she stays frozen in place.
“Committed and perceptive, I see! Admirable. However, you mustn’t forget your place, Ms. Del Rosario.” Nora’s tone is distinctly authoritative despite the way their edges are hidden beneath the false layer of sweetness. Her glare, framed with an artificial smile, cuts through all of the confidence Simone had managed to build up. She quickly breaks eye contact.
“I didn’t mean to imply–”
“Yes, well, I’ll overlook this blatant disregard of authority today, but do be more cautious in the future, hm?” The only way Simone could describe the situation is ‘dangerous’. Her heart has once again picked up its pace and she shakily brings her hands to her lap.
“Of-of course. My apologies.” Concern seems to be a one-way street, for some reason. Despite the fear, frustration also builds in Simone’s chest. She’s being pulled along by Nora’s whims and she isn’t even allowed to pull at the leash around her neck.
…Then again, what could Simone possibly offer Nora? She deflates, coming to terms with the futility of this situation. Just go along with the flow. It’s gotten you this far. There are still ways to connect, after all.
“By the way, what is your opinion on the new cover letter requirements for our reports?” It’s a safe, easy topic. Simone hopes they can regain their earlier mood if she keeps the conversation light. She feels slightly lighter when she sees a spark of something in Nora’s eyes.
“Oh, it’s absolutely abysmal, in my opinion! Far be it from me to question the decisions of the CEOs, but now this year’s reports are no longer uniform. Surely they could have waited until the end of the year to implement the change, no?” Is that a twitch of irritation on her brow? Simone is fascinated.
“I agree. I like that they put the organizational codes on top, at least.”
“Yes, that is the one redeeming quality to them. I’m glad someone else agrees on this!” There’s an undertone of what feels like relief to Nora’s words, and it makes Simone think she’s getting better at reading her. The thought has her downing the rest of her glass.
It blurs the edges of Nora, leaving her softer and more… tangible, in a sense. The monochromatic woman is usually so high above her, both literally and metaphorically. But now, inside this quiet and elegant restaurant, she isn’t so far out of reach that Simone would fall to her death should she take a step towards her. Without the anxiety of being judged clouding her vision, Simone thinks Nora is quite striking. Her smile, authenticity be damned, is magnetic in any case. It pulls Simone’s eyes towards her, causing the employee to notice more and more. Has she always been this beautiful? Simone’s mind stalls out on the thought of it. Her boss is intimidating, powerful, and… pretty. Pretty! Is that the right word to use? Simone tries to quickly and covertly scan Nora’s features, but something quickly catches her eye.
Is that a strand of hair falling out of place? Perhaps Simone wouldn’t normally catch such a minor detail, but Nora’s appearance is so static in nearly every regard normally. Something aches in her chest at the thought of it. Not just for Nora, but for herself, too. She feels like she’s losing her sense of self the longer she stays with this company. She feels less human. It’s an unbearably heavy feeling, threatening to drown her. The clinking of silverware shifts the scene back into focus, drawing their gazes together. For some reason, it makes her want to cry.
“There seems to be something weighing on your mind. Care to share?” Nora’s words are light, unassuming, but it isn’t the sickly sweet tone Simone has grown used to. Maybe it’s the alcohol clouding her judgement, but she feels like the words are caring in a way that feels genuine, not controlling. Nora’s eyes, still perfectly sharp, are unblinking as she waits for an answer.
Maybe Simone ought to just let go.
“I…I think this job is taking a toll on me,” Simone admits quietly. “I don’t want to be a nuisance or sound as if I’m ungrateful, but sometimes I wish I could complain to someone who understands without them thinking I’m…lazy. Or a disappointment.” Long shadows, longer than the ones that are ever cast in the office, still loom over her. She tries to shake it off. It seems her answer surprised Nora, whose eyes are just a fraction wider than they were before. She stares beyond Simone as if she’s analyzing the different responses to different answers. Maybe Nora has multiple lives, too.
“I think… it’s normal to want to commiserate or unload your burdens without judgement. However, everything comes with a price, as I’m sure you’re aware.” She rests her chin on her folded hands, smiling enigmatically at Simone. She’s almost afraid to ask, but…
“What would you suggest?” Nora’s smile widens, and it feels as if Simone is just dancing in the palm of her hand.
“I’m always willing to lend a subordinate an ear, so to say. Still, it mustn’t interfere with work, right?” Simone quickly nods in agreement – despite Nora’s assurances to the contrary, she knows a wrong answer here would cost her. “Then the answer is simple. If my time permits, we can meet off-hours every now and then. If it’s to keep you in top shape, I would gladly sacrifice some of my precious free-time.”
…What?
“Hm? Is that really so unusual? Your mouth is hanging open like a fish.” She reaches across the table and lifts Simone’s jaw back into place with her index finger. “There we go~ Be a good girl and show some decorum, yes?” The comment and the contact cause a blush to burn Simone’s cheeks as she struggles to maintain composure.
“Are–are you sure, ma’am? I would hate to waste your time with something so trivial…” The shame is back as Simone averts her gaze, but a light chuckle brings her focus back on Nora.
“I’m always sure of everything I say, Ms. Del Rosario.” And she truly is, isn’t she? Nora has never offered empty platitudes or broken promises. Yes, sometimes her words are twisted and coated in artificial sweetness, but they’re still said with conviction, because she believes everything she voices. Perhaps Simone shouldn’t feel so comforted at the thought, but she is.
“Thank you… The offer means a lot. Really.” Some of Simone’s exhaustion from the last four months has eased its way out of her with those words. Before Nora has a chance to respond, they are once again cut off by the boisterous waitress.
“How was the meal? Good, right? Man, I wish I could afford to eat here, haha…” Simone thinks she sees that tick of irritation back on Nora’s brow.
“Yes, well… Rody, was it?” The waitress straightens to attention.
“AH! Yes! Is there anything else I can get you ladies?” Her enthusiasm is equal parts charming and exhausting, Simone thinks to herself.
“Just the check—”
“Oh! The lemon tart here is actually really good if you want a recommendation!” Rody cuts Nora off, arms swinging outwards, as if this is the most important thing she’s ever had to say. However, with the uncertain expression on Rody’s face, Simone seriously doubts the woman has ever tried it herself. She glances back over at Nora, whose smile sharpens and eyes burn holes into the woman.
“ Just the check will suffice. ”
“ Eep– yes, miss! Right away, miss!” She bolts to the register and back in a display of raw desperation. It seems Nora’s aura can be felt by those other than her employees, Simone muses.
“Here you go, ladies! Thank you so much for dining with us!” Rody appears to be sweating slightly, but she still keeps an upbeat attitude. It’s pretty admirable, in a way.
“Shall we split the bill? We got the same thing, after all,” Simone tries, though she already has an idea of what the answer will be.
“Hmm~ Well, we did discuss business matters tonight. I’m sure we can write off one meal, just this once. I believe we got a lot accomplished, after all!” Nora pulls a gray corporate card out of her inner jacket pocket before handing it to Rody. “If business encroaches into personal time, then it is only fair to be properly compensated, yes~?” she winks at Simone. Once Rody has printed the receipt and handed the card back, she rises from her seat.
“Please pass on my regards to the chef, and let her know that I owe her one!” Nora claps her hands together while addressing Rody, looking quite pleased when the woman nods fervently.
“Of course! You ladies have a wonderful night, ok?” Simone quickly stands as well, nodding her thanks to the waitress as she follows Nora out of the building. Before they’re down the steps, Nora is already catching Simone’s shoulder and grabbing her attention.
“Shall I drive you home? It’s gotten quite dark, after all.” Though it would probably be more convenient, Simone thinks she needs to spend some time alone.
“Actually, the subway takes me very close to my house, so I’d prefer to go that way.”
“Of course, of course! I’ll walk you to the stairs, then.” The hand stays firmly on Simone’s shoulder, leaving no room for argument.
“Thank you…”
“Though I know you are thoroughly capable, it would… ease my mind somewhat if I accompanied you,” Nora continues, the twitch of her lips the only sign of her confusion, as if she herself doesn’t know why she feels that way. Simone removes her glasses and cleans them with her blazer, just to assure herself that she isn’t seeing things.
They walk side by side down the sidewalk; the bright lights from the store windows casting their shadows onto the street. The different colors bounce off of Nora’s skin until Simone can no longer distinguish where the illusion ends and she begins. She hears the woman hum as she turns her gaze upwards.
“Despite the convenience, living in the city does have its downsides. I’m sure the stars would have been very beautiful tonight.” For a woman who seemingly lives among the clouds, her tone is surprisingly wistful, contemplative. Simone isn’t sure what Nora is, to be honest.
Maybe she doesn’t really care.
“Do you remember them? My deaths.” The question cracks through the air with the suddenness of a whip. Simone can swear she hears Nora’s heels click as she stops short. She turns towards her and, to Simone’s shock, her face is blank – even the perpetual smile is nowhere to be found. She swallows thickly.
“I remember a lot of things, my dear.” Her tone is flat, as if someone pulled the cord on its cadence. She continues staring at something Simone cannot see. “Some might even say I remember too much.” There’s something almost pained in the words, but her tone remains uniform. Slowly, she turns her head towards Simone. As the hardness of her gaze softens, a sincere warmth blooms on her face with a smile. “It was rather funny watching you plummet when we first met, though. And you came right back~ I was quite impressed.”
Simone nearly collapses to the ground in relief. Finally, finally, someone else who understands, who remembers. The loneliness it has caused her dissipates like the steam that rises from the streets of her beloved city. Even if it comes with the embarrassment of their first meeting remaining in Nora’s memory, Simone will take that a thousand times over always doubting her own mind. She nearly feels tears build up in her eyes, but she restrains herself.
“Thank you for tonight. Really.” There isn’t any corner of Simone’s imagination that could have predicted today going so well. She once again meets Nora’s gaze, who is leaning further and further into her space. Simone’s eyes widen.
Is she… going to…?!
Nora brings her left hand up and pats Simone’s cheek.
“Of course~ It was my pleasure, Ms. Del Rosario.” She smiles sweetly down at Simone, whose insides are very suddenly fighting to become her outsides. “I look forward to next time. Make sure you take care of yourself until then, yes~?”
“Ah– Yes, I promise, Nora.” After half a beat, Simone realizes how informally she just addressed her superior, but Nora is wearing perhaps the brightest smile she’s ever seen on the woman. It causes something warm to crack open in her chest. Oh.
“I’m very happy to hear that, Simone.” Oh, no.
“Then… see you Monday.” Before Nora has a chance to respond or Simone has a chance to embarrass herself, she descends down the subway stairs, nearly tripping on the last step, but she’s able to catch herself. She chances a glance at the top of the stairs and, to her dismay, Nora is watching with an amused smile and a small wave of her hand. Instinctively, Simone waves back before rounding the corner and slapping her forehead.
In an office building full of spent nuclear fuel rods and meat hooks ready to skewer her, Simone really found a way to make work even more dangerous. It’s almost impressive, in a way. She sighs as she rummages through her purse for her subway pass, pausing when her fingers graze the elevator key Nora gave her on her first day. A ‘welcome gift’, she had called it. Despite herself, Simone smiles. Maybe she should just allow herself to feel however she feels without catastrophizing. Nothing needs to come of it, she reminds herself. It’s against her nature not to worry, but… she’ll give it her best shot, anyways.