CHAPTER SIX
Selene
I sat at my desk in Stones Technology, the soft glow of the computer screen casting a faint light on my tired face. This week has been nothing short of overwhelming. What had started as an exciting new job had quickly turned into a source of unrelenting stress. Between Charles Stone's constant demands and the endless reports I had to review, I felt like I was drowning under the weight of it all.
I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples in an attempt to ease the growing tension in my head. Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was already 8:15 p.m. I'd stayed late every night this week, trying to prove myself, to show everyone that I could handle the pressure. I was always one of the last set of people if not the last at times to leave the office. But no matter how hard I worked, I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't enough. I worked twice as hard—scratch that, three times as hard as Becca does but I am still the one at fault at the slightest mistake. To think of it, I have never seen Charles leave the office. There must be another exit linked to his office I do not know of.
My phone buzzed on the corner of my desk, breaking the silence. I glanced at the screen and saw my mother's name flash across it. My stomach tightened.
Great, just what I needed.
I hesitated for a moment, considering letting it go to voicemail, but I knew better. If I didn't answer, she'd only call back. Reluctantly, I picked up the phone.
"Hello?" I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.
"Well, it's about time you answered," my mother snapped. "How come we had to hear from someone else that you got a job? Do you even think about us anymore?"
I felt the familiar tightness in my chest. I wasn't in the mood for this—especially not after the week I'd had. I don't even know how they came by the knowledge that I had gotten a job. "Mom, I've been really busy with work. It's only been my first week, and there's a lot going on."
"Busy? You're too busy to call your own mother?" she scolded. "We raised you better than that, Selene. The least you could do is keep us in the loop."
I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay calm. The last thing I wanted was to start an argument. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you out of the loop. It's just… everything's been hectic."
"Well, you better not mess this up. You've finally done something right for once. You've been jobless for two years, Selene. TWO YEARS! You can't afford to lose the one perfect thing you've got going."
Her words stung, as they always did. No matter what I did, it never seemed to be enough for her. I tried to tune out her constant criticism, but I heard something in the background—laughter.
"Is that…?" I asked, the question catching in my throat.
"Oh yes, your sister and Trevor are here," my mother said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
My stomach dropped. *Of course they're here.* The last people I wanted to hear from right now were Brianna and Trevor. Brianna, the golden child who could do no wrong in our mother's eyes. And Trevor, my ex-boyfriend of three years—now Brianna's boyfriend. The two people who had hurt me more than anyone else in my life, now sitting comfortably at my parents' house, probably laughing at me.
Sure enough, I could hear them making snide comments in the background. Trevor's low chuckle sent a wave of nausea through me.
"She couldn't even bother to call and tell us she got a job? Classic Selene," Brianna sneered.
"Probably didn't want to jinx it," Trevor added, his voice dripping with mockery.
My grip on the phone tightened, my knuckles turning white. I couldn't believe this was happening. Not now. Not after the week I'd just had.
Meanwhile, my mother continued to drone on about how I should have called, how I needed to be a more considerate daughter. My heart was pounding in my ears, my face growing hot with anger.
"Selene, are you even listening to me?" she snapped. "You really need to—"
"I've had a really long week, Mom. I don't have the energy for this right now," I said, cutting her off.
"Don't you dare hang up on me!" she shouted. "We have news."
News? My heart sank. The change in her tone made me pause, but before I could ask what she meant, I heard my father's voice in the background, quiet and tentative.
"I'm proud of her," he murmured, almost to himself.
I froze. My father rarely said anything like that. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time he'd voiced his feelings at all. Hearing him say he was proud of me, even in such a soft, understated way, sent a wave of warmth through me. But it was quickly drowned out by my mother's voice again.
"We have news, and it's important," she insisted, her voice pulling me back to reality.
"What news?" I asked, barely managing to keep the exhaustion out of my voice.
Then I heard Brianna's voice, cutting through the background noise like a knife. "Trevor and I are getting married! He proposed two days ago!"
I felt like the ground had just been ripped out from under me. Married? Brianna and Trevor?
It felt like the ultimate betrayal, and it hurt worse than I could've imagined. I'd barely come to terms with the fact that they were together, and now they were getting married? It was as if the universe was determined to see just how much more I could take.
My mind was spinning, but the only thing that kept running through my head was, I just can't catch a break, can I?
Work had been brutal this week. I was already feeling like I was drowning under the pressure, like I wasn't good enough. And now this? The people who should've been my support system, the people who should've cared about me, were the very ones adding to my burden. Piling it on, layer after layer, until I felt like I was going to collapse under the weight of it all.
My mother was still talking, but I could barely hear her. Everything around me felt muted, like I was underwater. Her words were nothing more than a buzz in the background as I tried to make sense of what was happening.
"You don't even care, do you?" Brianna taunted. "I knew you'd be jealous. You're always jealous of me."
I felt like I couldn't breathe. My throat tightened, and my vision blurred as tears threatened to fall. Without thinking, I hung up the phone.
I sat there in silence, staring at the screen for a long moment before I stood up, feeling unsteady. I needed to get out. I needed to breathe, to get away from everything. Without thinking, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.
I didn't care that I looked a mess after running my hands in my hair throughout the whole day, I didn't care to check the small buzzing I heard coming from the Charles Office, I didn't care that I must have looked as white as a ghost. All I cared about was escaping the suffocating feeling that had taken hold of me. All I cared about was just getting out of the office and going home to my comfort zone.
After taking a cab straight to my street because I didn't have the energy to go through the hassle of going to the train station, I walked down the street to the corner mart, my feet moving automatically while my mind swirled with a million thoughts I couldn't process. When I reached the store, I grabbed a basket and started filling it with random comfort foods—ice cream, chips, cookies. Anything that might help numb the ache in my chest.
As I stood in line, waiting to pay, I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass door. My reflection stared back at me—tired, worn out, and broken. I barely recognized the woman looking back.
When did it all get so hard? I wondered. But no answer came. Only the persistent ache of everything I had lost and the faint, desperate hope that things might somehow, someday, get better.