Chapa POV:
As I stepped into the classroom, the familiar scent of paint and charcoal filled the air. I headed straight to my seat, where my half-finished painting awaited. This one was differentâdarker, more mysterious. I wasn't sure where it was going yet, but that was part of the thrill. I let my brush guide me, letting the images form naturally, layer by layer.
My focus was interrupted when Ms. Ambrose called out, "Mia, could you walk over to the sculpture classroom and tell Lizzy Brown she needs to go to Mr. O'Brien's office?"
Mia glanced up from her work, clearly engrossed in whatever she was doing. "Yeah, sorry, could it wait? I'm in the middle of this," she said, sounding more annoyed than apologetic.
Ms. Ambrose sighed, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Fine then. Chapa, could you get her?"
I nodded, setting down my brush. "Uhm, yeah, sure," I replied. I'd never been to the other classrooms before. There were five different art rooms in total, each with its own focus and teacher. I'd seen the students from the other classes at the art exhibition, but we hadn't really interacted. Our groups were separated by the sections in the hall.
I made my way to the sculpture classroom, the unfamiliar surroundings making me feel slightly out of place. As soon as I opened the door, a dozen pairs of eyes turned to me. "Uhm, hello," I started awkwardly. "I'm here on behalf of Ms. Ambrose to tell Lizzy Brown she needs to go to Mr. O'Brien's office."
The teacher nodded. "Alright, Lizzy, you may go."
Lizzy, a petite girl with a nervous look on her face, stood up and walked over to me. As she stepped out of the classroom, I turned and started walking back to mine, my mind buzzing with curiosity about why BoseâMr. O'Brienâwould need her in his office. He usually left that kind of thing to Bridget, Andrew or the department managers.
"Hey, uhm, do you have any idea where his office is?" Lizzy's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah, I do," I said, explaining the route as best as I could remember. "You have to go all the way down with the elevator to the lobby, then to your left. You'll see the halls where the events are held. Next to it, there are a few tiny stairs. Go up those, then into a hallway with offices. His office is at the end of the hallway to the right."
Lizzy looked relieved. "Oh, could you please walk with me? If your teacher doesn't mind?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll walk with you," I said, figuring Ms. Ambrose wouldn't mind. I was too curious about what was going on to pass up the chance to find out more.
As we headed to the elevator, Lizzy broke the silence. "So, since when are you here?"
"About a month and a few weeks now. Not too long. What about you?" I asked.
"Only a week," she said. "I was also at the art exhibition, but of course, I didn't have anything there since I'd just started. Mr. Lopezâmy teacherâtold me I might want to take a look to see how others are doing."
We stepped into the elevator, the slight hum filling the silence between us. "So... do you have any idea why you need to be at Mr. O'Brien's office?" I asked, trying to sound casual but really itching to know.
Lizzy hesitated, then said, "Yeah, but I don't think I can tell you. I'm sorry." Her nervousness was evident, and I decided not to press her, even though my frustration simmered under the surface. Why was Bose calling her to his office, and why was it so secretive?
As we walked into the lobby and headed up the stairs, I spotted Andrew coming out of his office. He looked at me with that annoying curiosity of his. "Where are you heading?" he asked.
"None of your business," I shot back, not in the mood to deal with him.
"Alright," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender before walking off.
Lizzy looked at me curiously. "How do you know him? Are you friends?"
I snorted. "Oh, he's a friend of a friend, but I don't like him."
"Oh, okay," she replied, and we walked the rest of the way in silence.
When we finally reached the office, I pointed it out. "Here it is."
"Thank you so much. I think I'll manage to find my way back," Lizzy said, giving me a small smile before she disappeared into Bose's office.
"Great," I mumbled, turning to head back to my classroom. But as I walked away, my mind kept returning to the same question: What could Bose possibly want with Lizzy?
I shook my head, trying to focus as I picked up my brush and went back to my painting, but the mystery gnawed at me, refusing to let go.
Bose POV:
"Come in," I called after hearing a knock on my door. The door opened, and Lizzy Brown stepped in, looking a bit nervous. "Hi, Lizzy," I greeted her, trying to keep my tone neutral.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked, her voice small but steady.
"Yeah, I did," I said, shifting the papers on my desk. "My second-hand man informed me that you haven't paid your study loan for this month yet. We expect payments at the beginning of each month."
Lizzy looked down, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah, sorry. I don't have enough money yet, but I think I'll be able to pay if I start working."
I raised an eyebrow. "You think? Or are you sure?"
She didn't respond immediately, her silence hanging in the air. I could tell she was struggling, and I felt a twinge of sympathy.
"We can make an agreement if you'd like," I offered, leaning forward slightly. "You could work here as one of our cleaners."
Her eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Yeah, if that's possible. I need a job to pay for my classes, and I can't seem to find one."
"Do you have any experience? Because it's not just cleaningâit involves ordering and restocking everything we need in this building."
"I can do it," she said confidently.
"I can only offer you work on the weekends, though."
"That's perfect," she replied, relief washing over her face.
"So, you'll start working here, which will give you the money to pay for your studies."
"Yes, that would be a great opportunity," she said, visibly more cheerful.
"Alright then." I turned to my files, pulling out a contract. "You can start tomorrow, on Saturday. I'll update one of the cleaners to help you get started today."
She signed the contract quickly, her eagerness almost palpable. "Thank you," she said before leaving.
As the door closed behind her, I heard footsteps approaching. Andrew stepped in, his usual smirk plastered on his face. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked, still focused on the contract I was signing.
"I just saw Chapa with that girl in the hallway. What happened?" he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
As I finished signing the document, I felt a sharp sting on my finger. "Oh no," I muttered, realizing I'd cut myself with the pencil. I started rummaging through my desk for a band-aid.
"Let me see," Andrew said, grabbing my hand to inspect the cut. "You seriously cut yourself with a pencil?"
"Don't make fun of me," I snapped, yanking my hand away from him.
"I'm not," he said, holding back a laugh. "I'm just surprised you manage to hurt yourself whenever Chapa's name comes up."
I shot him an annoyed look. "Chapa didn't come into my office. The girl she was with was Lizzy Brown. She's the one who came in."
Andrew raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further. "Alright. Anyway, I have an amazing idea."
"What?" I asked, still nursing my finger.
"What if we get inspiration for the big party next week in... Italy!" he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "Do you honestly think my stepfather would agree to that?"
"I already emailed him, and he said it's a good ideaâon one condition."
"And that is?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"That we throw a party like this every year and travel to a different country for inspiration with a couple students each time. It'll attract more students to our academies and show how committed we are to these events."
I leaned back in my chair, considering it. "Okay, and who's going to pay for it?"
"The company," Andrew said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We have enough money, you know that."
"Yeah, alright," I said, nodding. "Let's look into it."
"Can Iâ"
"Yes, you can book the hotels, places, and activities," I interrupted, knowing exactly where he was going.
"You know me too well," he grinned before heading back to his office.
After he left, I decided to grab some coffee. As I walked into the café, I noticed Bridget sitting alone, looking unusually downcast. I walked up to her. "Hey, Bridget," I said. "How are you doing?"
She looked up at me with tired eyes. "Not good at all."
"What? Why?" I asked, genuinely concerned.
"You wouldn't understand," she muttered.
"Try me," I encouraged, taking a seat across from her.
She hesitated, then sighed. "I... I'm in love with someone."
"Really? With who?" I asked, surprised.
"My brother's girlfriend," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What? Girlfriend?" I was caught off guard by her confession.
"Yeah," she said, staring into her cup of tea.
"I didn't know you were..."
"Bi," she finished for me. "Yeah, me neither."
"But your brother's girlfriend? Does she like you too?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around the situation.
"I think so, but she's with my brother. And she's not out yet. I'm not even sure if she wants me or him. Besides, it's weird to switch from my brother to me."
I nodded, understanding her dilemma. "That sounds really tough. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you. Does Andrew know?"
"Yeah, he does. I'm just so confused," she said, her voice breaking a little.
"Do you want to take a few days off?" I offered.
"No, work is the only distraction I have right now," she replied, shaking her head.
"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything," I said, feeling bad for her.
"Can I have a hug?" she asked, her voice small.
"Yeah, sure," I said, standing up. I hugged her, trying to offer some comfort. Just then, someone bumped into me from behind. I pulled away and turned to see Chapa standing there, her eyes sharp.
"So, what happened to your finger?" Bridget asked, oblivious to the tension that had just entered the room.
"I cut myself, but it's not a big deal," I said, removing my band aid and showing her my finger. To my surprise, there was no cut. "I don't see a cut," Bridget said, frowning.
"Me neither," I mumbled, confused. I could have sworn I cut myself.
Bridget shrugged it off and left, but Chapa stayed behind, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to me. She grabbed my suit, pulling me toward her. "You're in trouble," she whispered, her voice low and threatening.
I swallowed hard, trying to explain. "It's not like that," I protested weakly.
"Go," she ordered, releasing me.
I obeyed, following her instructions without hesitation. As I walked back to my office, a mix of fear and amusement swirled within me. Chapa was jealous, and somehow, that made me smile. But I couldn't shake the odd feeling about Bridget's confession and the mystery of my vanishing cut. Today had been... strange, to say the least.