The Pair of Apocalypse (wjsn seolaxbona) COMPLETE

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Bona's pic

As proven by the slight difference between what I secretly referred to as our 'win rates.' It was by no means official or anything, but Seola and I kind of had this unspoken contest when it came to converting potential clients to actual clients. It probably would've been more efficient all around if the both of us worked together on pitches instead of silently competing against one another... But I figured our whole competitive dynamic was unavoidable, it was just part of the fallout from when we first met. From when I not only belittled her professional abilities but also explicitly stated that I had no interest in becoming her friend.

"Yeah, I agree," I said in reply to Seola. "Well, let's double-check if he can actually meet the proposed timelines and then we can send over a few of the smaller shipments... Trial basis until we can be sure about his reliability though. Everyone good with that?"

Our colleagues sitting around the table began nodding their heads. Seola and I finally wrapped up the meeting. The rest of our team filed out of the room, ready to head home for the day. I was just about to follow suit and leave, too, when Seola asked if she could run some things by me. I checked the time on my watch and bit my lower lip. I was going to be cutting it close, but traffic permitting, I wasn't going to be late.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I nodded my head. My hand distractedly fumbled around inside my handbag. "But do you mind if I touch up my makeup for a sec?"

"Of course not. Go right ahead," she replied. I mumbled out a distracted 'thanks' as I riffled through my small cosmetics pouch. "Big date tonight?"

"No, just dinner with the girlfriend," I told her as I held up a compact mirror with one hand, applying a fresh layer of light lipstick with the other. Starship had always preached tolerance and inclusivity, so I never really had to hide my sexual identity at work. Also, Seola had already met and briefly conversed with my girlfriend when I'd brought her as my date to past work events, so casually mentioning her was really no big deal.

"Dinner date with your dashing doctor?" She was obviously trying to be cute with all the alliteration. "Are you guys celebrating anything or—"

" Seola..." I cut her off. I didn't have time for chitchat. "You wanted to talk about the Goode cargo?"

"Right, right." She nodded her head before pulling up a file on her laptop. She started going through the points she wanted to bring up. I ultimately ended up leaving the office fifteen minutes later than I'd originally planned, but I was sure my girlfriend would understand.

It was work, it was important.

. . .

Although I didn't advertise it or whatever, it was like my worst kept secret that I had control issues... For me, preparing and planning were pretty much synonymous to breathing and blinking. I had an incessant need to control the variables of any scenario as much as possible. Which made me really, really good at my job.

Since my childhood (or more accurately, because of it), uncertainty had always left me feeling physically ill. For as long as I could remember, the feelings of doubt and unpredictability had brought on nauseating anxiety that pretty much wreaked havoc on my nerves. So, bar certain private / intimate scenarios behind bedroom doors, I preferred to be in complete control of all situations. And if that wasn't possible, I at least needed to be able to understand what was happening and also foresee what was coming next. Which was why I was at a complete loss right now... I literally had no idea how I was supposed to react or respond to what I'd just heard, to what I'd just been told.

The rug had been pulled from underneath me in the worst way and I was in a state of free-fall.

Even good surprises made me feel uneasy, so this horrible turn of events had me reeling in pure shock, disbelief and panic. With rapid-fire swiftness, my brain sifted through the weeks that led up to this night. But no matter how hard I tried to make sense of what was happening, I just couldn't... I was getting dumped? I darted my eyes around our all-time favorite restaurant. In vain, I searched the classy, textured walls for answers that obviously weren't there. Why was this happening? The two of us were just supposed to be having a nice dinner out, we weren't supposed to be breaking up.