Playing Pretend

A Child Lost in Manhattan

Wednesday nights to me are like Friday nights to other people. Not that it's the start of my weekend but it kind of gives me the same emotions. I get happy. I get excited. And that's all because I don't have to take work seriously on Thursdays and Fridays.

Don't give me that look okay? I know what you're thinking. "Is that even legal?"or "Aren't you going to get fired?"

Actually, office hours should be reduced to four days a week as to increase levels of productivity and satisfaction among employees. Happy employees equal happy employers. Don't believe me? Read online articles and studies regarding this topic. You'll see lots of them.

I know this because I do it every Thursday and Friday. It's not really an ultimate sin when you give your 101% to the company on Mondays to Wednesdays. STOP. GIVING. ME. THAT. LOOK. Besides, this is what got me a commendation and a possible promotion from the people way up there. What now, assholes?

The clock strikes five and as if on cue, endorphin is released inside my body, and automatically awakening the unicorn-hunting, pixie-dust-spreading kid inside me. The weekend is mine at last.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow!" I announce as I happily turn off my computer and collect my things.

But where am I heading off to? Is it to the gym or maybe to my boyfriend?

"I wish I was as happy as you are on Wednesdays." Zach utters behind me as I blow him a kiss. "Gosh, I hate you. Stay safe!"

That pretty boy covered in a velvet Chanel scarf and am outfit that's even better that mine is my fellow PR and my best gay wingman. Our mutual love for Sex and City and up to date fashion sense brought us closer together, aside from the obvious fact that we sit beside each other at work and that we practically share gossip every now and then. Oh, and he sings too.

And that middle aged Ian Somerhalder wannabe you see on my right, and the one we saw at the club, is my boss, Andrew Sanders.

"Enjoy the rest of the afternoon!"

He looks up from his desk and offers a smile. He's actually good looking and if only there isn't a monster lurking inside of him. He has been hard on me ever since that opportunity of a promotion opened up for me. I can't really blame him as I am a threat to his position and he's probably just waiting for me to mess things up.

I shrug as I continue to walk. I hit the road a minute later and check on my phone to see if Clarence has left any voice mails or texts, but to no avail. Disappointed but not surprised, we have both been pretty busy the entire month and we haven't seen each other or had any sexy times for quite a while.

I decide to ditch the gym and just head to a pizza parlor near his place and take out two boxes of his favorites, pepperoni and Hawaiian. Yes, folks. Pineapples do go on a pizza.

I can't wait to see the look on his face when I get to his place. We'll probably play NBA2K17 on his playstation, though I really should probably get him the NBA2K18 soon.

A moment later after I arrive at his apartment, Clarence appears. See that man with auburn hair swept on the side, dressed in a suit, that I have under my spell? That's the one I'm going to marry someday.

Aren't we an adorable couple?

He smiles at the sight of me with the boxes of pizza, cans of beers, and his tablet all set up on the coffee table. I get up and greet him with the biggest smile.

"Happy fifty-sixth birthday, Renzy!"

No, it's not his birthday. And no, he's not fifty-six either. I just like saying that. He forces a laugh as I extend my arms to hug him. He wraps his arms around me as well but as I try to press my lips against his, he pulls away.

I ignore him and try to kiss him again. But he grabs me by my shoulders and stops me. I stay still at the look in his eyes.

"Lexie, we need to talk."

"What's the matter?"

My brows wrinkle in confusion, a hint of panic and worry in my voice. I push aside all the creative reasons my mind can come up with. And silence falls between us as I wait for him to respond. He swallows before he starts speaking.

"I want out of this relationship."

And that's why I gave myself the license to be sad and not come to work today. See? My reason for being sick is totally legit. This is not my karma. My life just sucks right now and I'll be okay as the saying goes "There's a rainbow always after the rain."

Let's go back to the present where my purse is being held captive.

I'm still running and announcing to the world that my purse is being stolen and thanks to everyone who are as in much shock as I am to even bother moving at all. Where's the police when you need them?

I stifle a cry as I resort to my last option. I take my lovely Jimmy Choo heels and aim at the burglar but another man gets hit. Yikes!

I yelp, "Sorry!"

Turns out this man with golden locks escaping from the inside of his beanie is chasing after the robber.

Thank God! Someone has been sent from heaven. My life doesn't suck after all.

He ignores the impact of my heels and continues running after the asshole. Unfortunately, and despite our efforts to run as fast as we could, the robber has a friend in a motorcycle and they drive off happily off into Neverland along with my purse, credit cards, IDs, and Velvet Teddy MAC lipstick.

I lose hope and finally decide to slow down. My heart is still pumping rapidly against my chest from anger, sadness and of course, biological reasons. I retrieve my heels from the ground and sit down in the gutter while I mentally compute how much money I lost today, not to mention all my identification. I let out a heavy sigh.

"I tried my best, mate."

Goldilocks smiles apologetically as he walks over to me.

The first thing I notice when I look up to see his face is his aquamarine eyes and pretty strong jaw line. And just behind him, I see buildings I am partly familiar with. I'm in the The Lower East Side.

I'm impressed. Guess that's another thing to tick off my bucket list. I probably lost about a pound or two from running as well.

"I'm sorry about, uh, the thing with your head and my heels."

Truthfully, I hope I don't need to drive him to the nearest hospital for the possible internal hemorrhage my heels may have caused.

I continue, "And thank you for the effort, by the way."

And if there were any, I hope my apology and gratefulness magically gets rid of it.

"Wow, did we really run this far?" He looks at where we are and laughs. "I think I lost some weight there."

He looks back at me and cocks his head to the side, "Come on. I'm starving and you owe me a sandwich."

I raise an eyebrow and say, "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious that I'm starving." He laughs. "Come with me. You look like a poor child lost in Manhattan."