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✰-𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬.
KamaziaTrustiath
There goes a slight tremble through my hand as I hold my palm over the red checkered box.A slight puff of built up anxiety as well,my gaze sheathing down on the red little thing as if it would burn me to the touch.
Shit shit shit,I can't do this shit.
A shaky exhale escapes me as I start tugging my hand back,only, the fucking limb ends up stuck in the air when I feel the buzz of my phone against my ass.
I had quite the inkling feeling of just who it could be.
When swiping it from the back of my jeans,and gazing upon one of my best friends names,Yeoni,a little sigh of exasperation leaves me. As if she just knew I'd still be standing awkwardly in front of the checkered box, clutching the dainty little envelope in sweaty palm.
Not that she'd be wrong,if she presumed as much.
"Did the design end up in the box?" She asks immediately,so much for the modern setting of greeting before questioning.
"Hello to you too,ass."
"Oh yeah,hi. Now,are you still crinkling that piece of paper in your grip, standing like an awkward imbecile where everyone can see you're uninvited inner earth shattering turmoil?" I can hear the crunch of peanuts as she speaks,and I'm mildly disgusted by the sound.
My eyes leave the box for a total of 10 seconds as I scan the floor I was on,I don't know,maybe the bitch had hacked into a camera somewhere and was creepily stalking me.
It was quite horrifying, when the thought didn't make me uncomfortable as it was supposed to at the thought of Nayeon not abiding to the law.
It served well to have an technician bachelor graduate and hacking master as a friend when it was for your own gain,but when she uses that same traits for doing something like, stalking me,it felt shitty to have it come back to bite me in the ass.
"You hacked the camera I'm looking at right now, didn't you?" There's a mean sneer on my face as I stare at the camera just a couple feet away, safely nestled in the corner of the ceiling.
"Watching as you repeatedly stuck out your palm before pulling it back to your chest,as if hesitant on recieving a slap to the wrist? Totally worth the entertainment." She cackles into the phone,and I flinch at the screech of it, holding the little black device further from my ear.
"Jesus,I swear you'll be the cause of my hearing's early passing. And I wasn't having an inner turmoil, just, I'm-"
"Having an inner turmoil?" Another cackle,and briefly I wish for the superior power of telekinesis ,so that I could fling that damn computer in front of her,right into her fucking face.
"Fine bitch,I'm doing it now." I sigh belatedly, lifting my shaking palm into the air again before dropping the envelope into the little checkered box, admittedly abit crinkled and slightly damp,but oh who the fuck even cares. The obnoxious red colour hurting my eyes was enough to foul my mood even more.
"Took you about..." A brief pause as Nayeon probably glances at a clock somewhere near her,before she's back to breathing down my neck.
Literally and figuratively,with how she's like a hovering mother hen ,and that I could quite disgustingly hear the harshness of her breathing through the phone.
"19 minutes and 37 seconds."
"You were timing me?" I gasp exasperatedly, because of course it would just be Nayeon to even think of such a thing,rather entertained at my internal struggle than that of being sympathetic.
Bitch.
"I'm efficient in what I do sweet cheeks,and if it's stalking, timing,or hacking into publication systematic camera's to spy on one of my best friends, expect the absolute best." She giggles,and another down turned grimace is casted upon the camera nestled into the ceiling, her cackling growing higher in pitch the more she heaves.
"Good bye, Im Nayeon." I don't bother waiting for a response as I switch off my phone, bristling at my best friends meddling,but simultaneously,also quite thankful because if it hadn't been for her, I'd probably still be standing here, a nervous trembling wreck.
With a little relieved sigh leaving my lips,and the straightening of my awful posture I prepare on heading out. A quick tug of my hood is not possible, wrestling my tangling curls into the hood to get them all out of sight,and out of the danger hazard of snowflakes tangling into the tush even more.
If there was something I didn't want right now,it was having to spend an extra hour on detangling the curly strands with iced flakes nestled deeply into it.
I guess an explanation is deserved,given my odd anxieted actions of just moments before,and what exactly had been the cause of,as Nayeon said ,my partially uninvited earth shattering inner turmoil.
A while back we've been notified that headquarters up in Manhattan Spring would be recruiting,looking for a fresh outlook on creating and the difference of the older and younger generations partial viewings and individual perspectives.
Thus began the awfully bright red checkered boxes seated snuggly on aunt Vanessa's desk,and her scrutinizing, judging gaze when we dared ask for one of the dainty little pieces of paper.
Luckily for me,she somehow, someway had a soft spot for me in her cold and unforgiving exterior, the utter suprise when she actually motivated me to try for it.
The opportunity of a lifetime, working alongside Kim Delicacies greatest creative chocolate designers,and being privileged of the opportunity of having you're own work showcased as potentially enough to have millions to billions copying a chocolaty creation of your own.
Needless to say,I was way in over my head in excitement,and having Greek Mythology as the base of my designing just the better.
Creating my design was spent countless nights in the kitchen of the chocolate distillery, adding and removing parts and pieces until I was satisfied enough.
That was until I was faced with that hideously red checkered box again,my design already safely packaged and on it's way to be served on a silver platter,the oncoming doom of it being scrutinized and picked apart unavoidable.
All I had to do now,was to complete the last of my tasking, delivering the summary of how I created it, how I felt during the process of creating it, why specifically I had created it the way that I created it, and if I thought it was worth it?
Except,I did not,and that was completely stated in the letter, only barely disguised by a douse of manipulating words,and an Google worded description of what I had in mind when creating the admittedly pretty white piece of milk chocolate now on its way to Manhattan Spring.
Now was just the torturous wait,the suspense of knowing the initialled of being fucked over out weighed the possibility that my idea could actually be considered good enough for me to be excepted into headquarters.
And of course,my douzy head full of thoughts never letting up in having me questioning myself.
