𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ✓

TWENTY-SEVEN

-

The next day, the sun is burning down on the streets, and it makes me miss the cabin even more. The city is cramped and loud, and the constant traffic noises drive me crazy after spending two weeks in comfortable silence. After a short visit to my apartment, finding a very happy Kelly with her new girlfriend and Chester meowing ever so loudly, apparently happy to see me, Sebastian and me are back at our workplace.

I bite my lower lip nervously as we take the elevator up to our floor. In a few minutes, our boss is going to reveal the result of the reader poll. Reveal who got the promotion. To my right, Sebastian clings onto his briefcase as he always does, and now I'm not holding back to stare at the veins that run from the hem of his rolled-up sleeves to his fingers. H O T. 

"This is nerve-racking," I mutter, and he looks over to me. Last night, all we did was cuddle until we eventually fell asleep on the sofa in his apartment. It had me wondering why it couldn't always be like this. Perfect and calm and just us. 

"I know," Sebastian replies after some time. We're almost on our floor, and the anticipation drives me crazy. For a brief moment, he takes my hand, entwines our fingers, and squeezes comfortingly. 

"It'll be fine," he mumbles down to me, and I gulp, trying to get rid of the anxiety that is slowly creeping up within me. Holding his hand helps a lot, admittedly, but the knowledge that in less than ten minutes, one of us will be promoted drives me insane. 

"Ready?" he asks quietly when the elevator dings as it stops. I nod and he squeezes my hand one last time before releasing it just in time before the doors slide open. When I inhale the familiar scent of our office space, memories start coming back. From about two weeks ago, when he and I were walking to the boss's office just like we are now, only without knowing that the following time would be changing our lives. And now, we know that the next minutes are going to change our lives. Well, one of our lives. Either his or mine. 

Calm down, Charlotte.

The walk to our boss's office seems longer than before. Like the hallway stretched with every step we're taking. We meet Joyce in the hallway, who's only nodding at us politely, a smile on her lips. 

"You knock," I say, my voice shaking, "Go on."

Sebastian glares down at me compassionately. His brows are pinched together, his eyes scanning my face. 

"It's gonna be okay," he whispers, almost inaudible, and I smile at how sweet he is with me now. Attentive and caring. Please don't change when you get that promotion.

Secretly, I am guessing, almost expecting him to get the job. Never in my life did I get my article to be better than his, especially after everything that happened on that trip. My mother being in the severe accident threw me off, not to forget the unbearable tension between Sebastian and me. There is no way his article is worse than mine. He'll get it. It's over.

Sebastian knocks, and a low grunt tells us that we can enter. With weak legs, I brush past him as he holds the door open for me. Our boss sits in his desk chair, a disgusting tie-and-suit combo on, as per usual, a new frame of ugly glasses on his nose. When the door falls shut again, he finally looks up to us.

"Ah, Stan, Emmons, please," he says gleefully, motioning to the two chairs in front of his desk. The same chairs we sat in two weeks ago. "Have a seat."

We do as offered, sitting in the same exact seats as last time. Seeking help, or at least moral support, I glare over at Seb, trying to calm my breathing. He smiles at me, dipping his head in an assuring nod. Without him, I would've hyperventilated by now.

"So, the poll has ended," our boss opens the conversation, "And it's safe to say that both of your articles have very positive reviews."

I nod, licking my lips nervously. If only I could skip forward. Part of me wants to step back from the job now. But our boss is a dramatic talker, loving the build-up to his revelations. So I can't do anything but wait. My leg twitches, my thumb scratches the palm of my hand over and over again. And I'm pretty sure I broke a sweat by now.

"And personally, I have to say that I couldn't have decided. Good that we had the poll, huh."

I nod again, fighting the urge to take Sebastian's hand again. I need comfort. I need his comfort.

"But in the end, the result ended up being a little more definite than I'd anticipated..."

This is driving me crazy. Our boss just keeps on rambling about how the decision was pretty clear after some time. I almost blur out his words, trying to steady my rapidly beating heart. Sebastian, who I side-eye every now and then, is surprisingly calm. Maybe he's already made peace with it. Maybe he thinks he'll get it. He's always been confident after all.

"So, after a phone call that shocked me, I have to say that," the boss continues, getting my attention again. I arch a brow.

"Phone call," I repeat in confusion, "I thought the poll was strictly online?"

"It was," the boss nods, "Until the end, it was. But, the poll didn't make the decision."

In complete bewilderment, I shake my head. I can't process this. What does that mean, the poll didn't make the decision?

"In the end, I got a phone call that decided over the result in a heartbeat, even though it did make me sad to hear it."

Can this get any more cryptic? Nervously, my leg bounces up and down and I lean forward, pressing my lips together.

"What phone call?"

Sebastian clears his throat, and I glare over at him. He scratches his beard. Suddenly, after being calm for so long, he's all jittery. What's happening?

Finally, he opens his mouth.

"I called. I'm out of the competition. The promotion is yours, Charlie."