Incendiary

6. Meetings and lunch

Okay so writing this chapter was literally hell for me haha. But now it's done!!! I can not express the relief I have for finally being able to get this out. I think this chapter went through 7 different variations before I settled on one that was not part of the 7. 

This is, I think, my longest chapter so, go me! This is also the first chapter where the two of them actually talk. (Kinda) lol. Enjoy, leave any suggestions for changes, any critiques, or anything you think I should add! 

Please please please COMMENT. I love reading y'alls comments. Vote because it helps. And yeah.

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Nova

Every part of my body feels too hot and sweaty.

My hands are clammy despite the chilly breeze flowing through the air, suckling on my skin. I keep tightening and releasing my hands into fists.

My thoughts are broken glass- different pieces that are no longer connected to make something coherent.

I was good at faking confidence. I was good at blending in and hiding my insecurities. It was something that came naturally, now.

But that did not mean I didn't feel the flames of anxiety trying to scorch me.

To distract myself, I pull out my phone and check the time.

Time. It is the ultimate distraction. We can swim in time for hours, watch the waves fade to ripples, and drown.

Time is also the ultimate comfort.

Until it's not.

We let ourselves feel relief if we see an abundance of it. But we live in the constant fear of watching it dwindle.

Bittersweet.

Before I could hesitate anymore, I forced my legs to move forward. With each step, I also forced myself to straighten my posture and put on my best- "I am second to god" -face. I don't even believe in god so who am I really trying to be? Maybe I'll pretend I'm Julia Roberts. She's my god. 

That was very important to do when you lived in New York and had a competitive job. (Being confident. Not pretending to be Julia Roberts. I guess you could do both.)

There was a doorman who gave me a quick smile and a head nod before letting me into the building. He seemed nice. I love nice people. I need to start being nicer. 

Crystal chandeliers sat scattered throughout the ceiling, and sleek black tiles covered the floors. The walls had gorgeous artwork on them.

My block heels tapped a rhythm against the smooth flooring as I walked up to the desk.

"As long as you can look confident and act as you belong, everybody treats you like you belong." Mae had said to me during my first week interning.

It was the best advice I had ever gotten.

I kept my face neutral as I approached the woman at the front desk Her long golden curls were scattered over her shoulders in a half-up-half-down style. "Are you here for the meeting?" The woman asked in a thick Jersey accent.

I nodded, and she looked at a sheet of paper before telling me to go up to the 17th floor.

I flashed her a smile and turned toward the elevators.

I felt grateful I had chosen to wear heels instead of converse. Heels always made me feel more confident, even if I didn't know how to properly walk in them. One day.