ephemeral // matty healy

knots

Blair woke up to Stella's Super Duper Funky Dunky Get-up Jams. She knew immediately when she heard the trumpets of Earth Wind and Fire's September. It's so infectious, Blair knew that Stella was just playing it to get her out of bed. She stepped out of her bedroom and made eye contact with her friend, dancing and singing through the kitchen. Blair's hair was sticking to her face with the help of dried drool.

"Morning, love!" Stella had been a morning person all her life. Even when they had sleepovers during school, they would always follow the same routine: Stella falling asleep first, Blair staying up to watch another movie by herself. By morning, Stella would be making coffee and pancakes for them both. Blair would help with cleanup.

"Cereal?" Stella offered. Blair shook her head, but kept listening to Stella's voice: " Are you sure? I just got some new stuff, what is it? Oat? Honey? I forget, but it's really good." She splashed some milk into her bowl. Blair made her way over the coffee pot, full of a steaming brew, and pulled a mug out of the cupboard next to it. It was white with black splotches and stood on four little pink legs. Blair deduced that it was supposed to match the cow bowl in Stella's hands.

"Nope, gotta stay focused today. If I eat, I might throw up." Stella stopped her, by placing a concerned hand on her arm.

"You okay, hun? Did you get enough sleep in your bed?" Blair grumbled a 'yes' and reassured Stella that she was just wasn't used to her room yet.

"Okay, well," she held the cow bowl above her face and slurped the remainder of her milk, "I'm off!"

Blair wondered where she was going today. Babysitting? No, too early. Maybe Rosco's for lunch prep. Her groggy voice mumbled a quick "see you later" before Stella closed the front door behind her.

She was alone in the flat, but Stella's CD of jams kept playing on the stereo. Blair turned it up and bopped along to some Diana Ross. With her ribs vibrating, she started to feel more awake and walked into the bathroom to flush her face with cool water. Her eyes had grown puffy during the night, and she wasn't sure if it was the late-night movie of the later-night Mary Jane.

Bo had left it for her as a welcome gift last night after supper. He pressed it into her hand and told her to "take care of herself". He also told her to try not to worry about the job, but it was all she could do during the night.

Blair poked at her eyelids; pulling them down and rubbing them around. Maybe concealer would help?

It didn't, but she didn't dawdle in front of the mirror or she knew she would be late.

Blair settled on a smart-casual outfit, which was what she wore at the other location. Dark denim and a blazer would suffice for day one. She sighed and stepped back, examining herself in the mirror.

"It'll do," she said aloud, then pulled her camera bag over her shoulder. Then she reached for some leftovers for a lunch and turned off Stella's CD player. Her heart pounded at every step she took to leave the flat. Blair almost debated on barricading the door with the refrigerator and never opening it again. She fantasized about the quiet life she could live, but quickly shook it off when she turned the key in the lock behind her.

The office wasn't very far away from the flat, maybe about four blocks. She walked with a spring until she got to the final stretch of the route when her feet suddenly didn't want to take her through the front doors. Busy people passed and pushed her around as she looked at the building front. It was tall, but only about three stories, with an exposed brick façade. 

Blair gulped and felt herself get sweaty.

Fuck it, she thought, let's do this. Blair pushed through the glass doors and marched to the front desk, ignoring the people sitting in the waiting room. The lady at reception peered at her new confidence over her rose-tinted cat frames.

"I have an appointment with-" Oh god, what was his name? The receptionist's eyes stayed icy as Blair struggled to remember his name. "I believe his name is... Hamidi?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"I'm telling you," Blair's memories were shaking in her head, but she was certain of it now. "I am Hamidi Onyango's nine o'clock meeting."

The lady typed a few words on the keyboard. "Name?"

"I- I just told you." Blair stuttered.

"No, darling, your name." She pushed up her frames to get a good look at Blair, who was doing her best to cover a red face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she gulped. "Blair Miller, I'm the transfer from the New York office." The lady smiled.

"Well, you may go up to the third floor to see Mr. Onyango, he's ready for you in the Spruce Room. It's the last room on the left. Big glass front, you can't miss it."

"Thank you very much..." She left the sentence open with the hopes of the lady giving her name.

"Ruth," she said politely. Blair reached over the front desk to shake Ruth's hand.

She walked up the wide stairs to the second floor and looked out to see a modern workspace. There was some slight chatter, but for the most part, she heard more activity on the third floor. She continued on. The third floor held a collaborative work area, and then meeting rooms lined up on the other side.

Blair followed Ruth's directions to Hamidi's meeting room, knocking slightly when she found the door. Through the glass, she noticed a body sitting at the head of the table.

Her stomach felt heavy like she ate a cinderblock.

"Come in," said a smooth voice. Blair opened the door and saw Hamidi, sitting in a fancy grey pinstripe suit.

"Hello, Mr. Onyango," she met his chair and held out a hand again. "I'm Blair Miller from the New York location."

He smiled greatly and shook her hand with vigour. Her stomach lightened up a bit. He offered her the chair next to him.

"Please, it's Hamidi. I'd love to talk to you about your work. New York spoke very highly of you."

"Thank you. I just finished a four-year graphic design degree at the state's School of Design, which was how I was able to work part-time for one year at the other office. It was such a great opportunity there and I was so thankful to have them ask me to stay on for another semester... and then another... and then full time." Hamidi never let his Chiclet smile falter. He was either very excited for Blair's story or he had a few extra cups of coffee. Blair hoped for the former.

"Do you have your portfolio with you? I'd like to see what your finished products look like." She nodded and pulled out her laptop, which was already open to her saved projects.

"Within the past few years, I got into photography as well, which has been a real asset when I'm thinking about a finished project. I can fix some things in PhotoShop, but composing the photo in real-time is a good way to get the results I want." Hamidi nodded knowingly as he scrolled through the two-page spreads had done for a local tabloid and then the freehand designed logo for a school club. He liked what he saw from her, but still insisted on questions.

"Has anyone ever come back to you with a complaint about your designs?"

"Of course," she laughed a bit. "Art is subjective, so you always have to listen to what people want, even if it goes against what you recommend. You have to give them what they want and what they ask for." Blair continued to tell a story.

"There was one time, a lady I had worked with before came in to ask me to set up her store's website and social media headers. I was honoured because I had done lots of updates to her logo, but then I remembered she was a tough customer. I had three options, one of which I wasn't very happy with, but it was her favourite." She turned the screen for Hamidi to see, he looked at the baby pink header with a lace frame. His nose crinkled a bit, then uncrinkled when she clicked forward to show the other ones. "See, I liked these one's much better, too. But anyway, I sent her all three and said if she wants to use the other ones later, she is more than welcome to."

Hamidi was pleased with what he heard from Blair. He sat back in his chair for a moment, then told her she was welcome aboard.

"It'll be so nice to work with you, Blair."