Trapped Destinies

Screenplay: A Story Beyond the Screen

"Mum?" It echoed in my mind, baffled by the sudden address. Apollo's choice of calling me 'mum' seemed utterly random. Glancing at the other women awaiting their interviews, their perplexed expressions mirrored my own bewilderment at this unexpected title.

But seriously, being dubbed 'mum' would imply I had time-traveled a decade or two into the future. At twenty-three, I am in dire need for crash course in adulting. Was it time to consider anti-aging skincare routines?

Was I missing something? Apollo dropped 'mum' as casually as a secret code. Then another kid joined in, ridiculing Apollo, "She's not your mom! You're just making stuff up. You don't have a mum!" Talk about a jaw-dropping moment. This wealthy and possibly spoiled kid might have been born with a silver spoon. If we were the same age, he'd be in for a windfall from the tooth fairy!

"Hey, Apollo, sweetie," I said, trying to ease the situation without confirming or denying anything.

The judgmental gazes from the women around us weighed heavily. My struggles suddenly felt magnified, becoming evidence of my incompetence. All I wanted was to blend in, not be seen as a failure or an absent mom to a child who wasn't mine. But in that moment, I felt like I was failing on every front. A walking disaster, that's me.

The little troublemaker wasted no time. "You're really Apollo's mum? What's your name? How come we never saw you before? How come you never pick up Apollo from school?" Apollo and I exchanged bewildered looks, troubled by our story but utterly clueless.

I was sinking.

Just then, Apollo's father appeared, bending down to the kids' level, gesturing towards the Mr.Smith he gently reprimanded them. "Remember what I said about running off? All of you stay with uncle Kevin." Then, turning to Apollo and me, he mocked, "I need to have a chat with my darling and Apollo." He whisked me away by the arm towards a different elevator, marked as the CEO/President's Office. Apollo was right by my side.

As I stepped into the elevator with Apollo's father, once he entered the pin for the elevator the doors sealed us within, enclosing an air of intrigue. Thoughts raced through my mind, questions multiplying like wildfire. Why was he bringing me to this higher office? The confined space felt heavy with anticipation and puzzlement.

Apollo on the other hand seemed relaxed, almost accustomed to the elevator and where we were heading. His father exuded a similar confidence that hinted at familiarity beyond mere acquaintance, evoking an air of mystery.

The elevator ride held an odd tension—a blend of expectation and uncertainty—as if the walls were privy to secrets waiting to be unveiled.

And the elevator doors pinged open.

The elevator doors opened with a chime, revealing the luxurious expanse of the CEO/President's office. To my astonishment, Apollo's father strode with confidence behind the CEO's desk. Before I could process this revelation, his demeanour underwent a striking transformation. I prayed fervently that he wasn't the CEO, hoping it was a bizarre misunderstanding.

With authoritative dripping from his tone, he launched into a reprimand directed at Apollo and me. "It's unfathomable that one would entertain a five-year-old's imagination. How old are you?"

"23!" I blurted out. Apollo seemed to find the situation amusing, giggles escaping him. I, however, felt a mix of confusion and indignation. Being scolded by the CEO for a situation beyond my control was not on my agenda.

Continuing his chastisement, his words landed like unwelcome blows, compelling me to hold back any retort, aware I would not be able to articulate my thoughts amidst the mounting frustration.