Stillborn - The Legend of Pontianak

Chapter 2 Fasha

At the Bombastica studio, things were going pretty well, as Nelydia worked really hard for the past few months. She had a dream that seemed unrealistic at first, but with time and effort she made it, she has her own studio, now it is time for more. She wanted to collaborate with more companies and create more branches all over the country and find new talents. She had always wanted to become one of the biggest artists, but more than that, she wanted to be part of the real art, of the real feeling. She loved comics, but she never felt like they were creating a genuine sensation. She wanted to bring people something to find themselves in, something in which they could see their feelings and understand them as they are, true and violent.

Nelydia exited her elegant office and bravely faced the bustle: phones ringing uncontrollably, people talking loudly to the inferiors, employees, especially secretaries, walking back and forth with their beautiful high heels making typical intense noises you could hear from any part of the building.

While she was diving through the people, she was looking for Affendi, her best employee, who has never let her down even once and helped her since her humble entrepreneurial beginning. She found him but she didn't even bother to stop, she just caught his hand and turned him around.

"Got those pages back yet?" she asked while still walking down the hallway.

"Sorry, Boss. The writer has not replied yet," came the quick and prompt answer.

"So then, summon him! Come on Affendi, this is your job, don't roll your eyes at me!"

Affendi nodded, laughing. He was a tall and handsome, but Nelydia never saw him as a man, more as one of his girlfriends she was hanging out with from time to time. She had massive respect for him and his work, but he was not the person she would ever need after the day ended. Nelydia stopped another boy to ask him about some news.

"Penicler's done with the new comic," said Ean, the boy Nelydia stopped.

"That's what I like to hear, Ean. Tell him I am looking forward to seeing him next week to discuss some prices, I would like him to work at some ideas I have."

Nelydia finally stopped walking in front of her secretary desk, Roslina. The lady was looking outside her window and seemed very interested in what was happening down there. Nelydia came next to her to take a look and she saw Osman and Imran, two young men who were sitting outside the building with art equipment set up.

***

Outside the studio, the men were talking in a very friendly tone about their work. Osman kept complimenting Imran for his latest work, as he did a great job and made his dad very proud of him.

"Dude, what you did is literally dope!"

He didn't like to admit this, but Imran really wished to be appreciated, but he just tried to keep a modest attitude and not show off his new achievements. He comes from a poor family, where generations of starving artists were sitting proudly in the history of big Universities. Though he hadn't learned anything from them, their lessons about dying of hunger weren't enough for him to give up. He will live from the streets, in the streets, but he will always have his paper and his pen.

"Thanks, man, but it's just what I do!"

Their discussion was interrupted by Nelydia's angry voice. As soon as they had seen her, they rolled their eyes and turned their backs.

"Hey, you two! How many times do I have to tell you that you cannot sell your stuff in front of my studio!"

Imran sighed loudly and turned his face towards her.

"What's up with you? I do not understand what is your actual problem with us, some starving artists. You used to be one of us, but I guess some fame and a couple million dollars change people and their past really quick."

"Well if you guys remained poor, it doesn't mean all of us have to. I have evolved and I worked really hard to get here, you know?" answered Nelydia, as she was turning all red because of Imran's observations.

"Come on, Nel. We are not passing drugs, we are just trying to live and make something out of our talent, like you!" said Osman with a more patient attitude. "We aren't taking your bread, we are just making ours. People come and go from your place all the time, is a great deal for us, some buyers or maybe a real opportunity will show up by standing here."

Even though she hated to admit that, these guys were right and besides all of these things they were pretty talented. She had a strange weakness for them, and doesn't matter how many times she would tell them to leave, she always steps on her heart and buys some more paintings from them. Her office was full of them and just when she was pinning the ones she just bought, she heard an infant crying coming from the hallway. She panicked and started to think where is the sound actually coming from and what causes someone such horrible pain when she heard a knock at her door.

"Enter!" she yelled.

Roslina opened the door and said with a tired voice.

"The last one."

"Huh?" said Nelydia with a confused look on her face, while still holding one of Osman's paintings into her small hands.

"Illustrator candidates, remember?" said Roslina.

Without waiting for an answer, Roslina opened the door wider and let in a very nice woman, in her late 20s, but she carried herself like she was much older, looking wise and calm. She was attractive, with long legs and a well-structured body. She had something mysterious in her, like a secret she was hiding in the depths of her heart. More than any part of her body, her eyes were telling so much, but nothing at the same time.

Nelydia mouthed the words "Thought I was done for the day" but the answer she got was "Guess not." Nelydia turned to Fasha and invited her to take a seat. They exchanged pleasantries, then they got to the actual point.