LIQUIDATE: Chapter 1

(I wish the blog function has double spacing. If anybody knows, leave a comment. K thx.)

A pair of lips draw the blunt end of an Ashton cigar, blowing out a gentle twirl of smoke.

Red eyes glare upon a case laid on her maple desk. A resume featuring a professional headshot of a male in a suit. 20s. Long, black hair that was combed backwards. White-skinned. Average build. Asian descent. The expression is blank, his stare directed beyond the camera.

The red irises shift towards the front. Sitting there is the same schmuck from the resume, but without his hair combed. The crown grows down to his shoulders. He stares down at the doc, his chest shifting up and down beneath his white dress shirt, adorned with peach stripes.

The white suit crosses her arms as she looks at the guy sitting opposite her desk. This is the new data entry administrator that MayCimb’s Human Resources hired three months ago. The cubicle meat whose recent performance summoned him into this high ceiling, air conditioned room.

On the table is a black tag adorned with gold letters: SENIOR MANAGER, FINANCIAL OPERATIONS: WHITE.

“Eyes up, Lad. Look at me,” says White.

He looks up. For the first time, his visage is fully imprinted by a feminine figure in a set of white suit and trousers, crowned with an equally white hime haircut which the longer strands grow over her shoulders. Her triangular face is a platform of a pair of red eyes, a thin nose and lips coated with red lipstick. They pucker when another smoke is blown and dissipates through Lad’s face.

“Do you know why I called you here?” she asks, her eyes fixed on his. Lips shut.

“I…I do?” Lad answers.

“Speak up.”

“I said I do, ma’am.”

White leans forward, both elbows are now on the maple surface, chin rested on the middle of ten interlaced fingers.

“Enlighten me.”

“I…inaccuracy. My inaccuracy brought me here.”

White’s eyebrows furrowed as she places her cigar between her lips and suddenly lurches forward to grab Lad by the cheeks with one hand, the fingernails grasping and digging into his skin. The sniffing is shaky.

More smoke is shot through his face as White’s widened eyes look down upon him. Unblinking.

“Your manager observed you procrastinating in our monitor as of late. Your daily KPI wasn’t close to halfway, you lazy shit. Are you listening?”

Lad quickly nods and gets violently shoved back into his chair. White rapidly taps the burning end of her cigar on a platinum ashtray, puffing with a huge sigh poisoned with frustration.

“Your wages will be docked in half. You will remedy all your previous errors in one week. I repeat, one WEEK. Until your performance is improved, you do not deserve the benefit of your full salary. Fuck this up again and you will lose your lunch. I will relay to our partners regarding your termination. Is that clear?”

For good measure, she slaps him across the cheek and points her index finger straight to the bridge of his nose. Lad remains focused at her with parted lips, his body slightly leaning back.

“I said do you understand?”

“Y…yes, yes…” the lad stammers, his voice edging to a squeal.

“Yes WHAT?”

“I understand that I will only earn half of my salary until my performance is improved,” Lad blurts out in a rapid pace.

White retreats onto her brown, genuine leather chair and rests her arms on its pure wooden arms. She remains static on the furniture as she keeps her fixed gaze on Lad, her mouth curls into a frown. Her black irises contract and expand while they analyse the wage slave up and down.

Behind her organic window of the world, a line points towards Lad’s face and produces a sentence that reads: SEROTONIN STATUS: MISERABLE.

“I want to know, Lad. What is slipping you?”

“What?”

“What happened to you, Lad?”

“It’s…personal.”

Lad looks down, but quickly snaps his attention back to White across the desk. He chokes back a tear.

“I don’t know, I…it feels hard as of late. I really wanted to focus, but-“

“Yet you can’t?”

He shakes his head.

“Just had a rough time…couldn’t concentrate…”

“The rough times are universal in this life, Lad. That isn’t an excuse for you to fuck around and fall behind your KPI. “I,” -White jabs her chest with pinched fingers- “I have bigger worries than your own.”

White stands up and struts along her desk while she produces one finger for each responsibility.

“Payroll. Operation funds. Forecasts. Transactions. Fraud. At one point, even a part of MayCimb’s Bursa Exchange while the previous manager was iced within his own Maxis COM Headset. It took a solid week until the new charge took place.

Shit weighted on my shoulders, yet I kept going. Follow my example, Lad. You just told me something personal bogged you down, yet you still have the energy to go to work, so have the fucking spirit to push your effort, too. Show me that you are here in the first place to contribute to MayCimb and not just here for creds. Otherwise, go work in the streets.”

White sits on the corner of the table with crossed legs, her voice softens as she looks down on Lad.

“Am I clear, Lad?”

Lad nods quickly, looking back at her face but not for a full second, as his eyes shift to her suit. White draws another smoke and points towards the door.

“You are clear to leave my office. If you can’t use your shit-for-brains to improve your performance, at the very least, use it to remember my evaluation. Go.”

Lad stands up, gives White a small bow and swiftly exits her office. She does not take her eyes off his presence until he disappears behind the closing door. One more smoke later, she snuffs out her Ashton cigar into her ashtray.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The white light shines upon the pristine, spotless marble floors of the gent’s bathroom. Hunched over a bowl sink with running water is Lad weeping his eyes out, the tears mixed with the flowing tap water as they drip from his corneas.

He looks up to the mirror and gazes at his own reddened eyes. Three months into a job at all and he already fucked up. He sniffles while wiping his tears. Remember the mistakes. Accept the loss. Move on. Improve. Wake up early. Budget to delay the inevitability of unpaid rent and poverty. Live on rice and beans. Street food. Soyblock. Misery is a companion. The world has saved nothing for you.

Lad shakes his head and clenches his teeth as he continues to weep, hiccups and sobs drowned by the tap