By the time I was done with the accursed tile, I was thirty minutes late.

And now, I have to pick through my drawer for something else to wear. And so far, I haven't been lucky.

One of the things that made me stand out during my internship at Bogue was my idea of individuality in fashion. I believe everyone should have a style that's uniquely customized to them. Even when one wears a popular brand like 'Wellington' or 'Frada' or even 'Access', there should be something about the outfit that's simply just you.

Whether it's a piece of jewelry, a pin, a deviation from the original style of a wear, a shade, or even a hairband, something of one's attire should really just speak of his personality.

That would be my main concept when I start my own brand 'U-nique', but with the way this morning was going, that dream appears farfetched.

The irony is that a fashion enthusiast such as myself couldn't even find something decent enough that says "Sofia Blake, a dreamer". That was what my last attire said until Alicia and her cruel daughters reduced it to exactly what I am now, "Sofia Blake, a mess".

'What am I even doing?' I thought as I held up the slightly wrinkled gray crop-shirt and blue high waist jeans. Just looking at it, I could read what it says "Sofia Blake, the minx".

It really wasn't that bad. But it was in no way what one is expected to wear for an interview for the position of a clerk. Unlike Annabel and Mirabel, who had bulging wardrobes, with clothes for every occasion. I was seriously lacking clothes.

Even the few I got after my internship. Alicia collected them before I could cross the threshold.

People wonder why I haven't fled from the house. Believe me, I've tried, but each time Alicia always finds me. As a popular woman, a phone call is usually all it takes. And of course, she also had a collar on my neck.

If I flee and after three days, I haven't been found. She would accuse me of stealing her money and belongings. Then she would let the world know that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, by making known whose daughter I was. That was the collar she had latched to my neck.

I once stayed unfound for two days, daring her to expose me and expose herself. Then I remembered how cruel she can be and what a great actress she was.

One time, she had cried when a group of men denied us entry for a function on the basis that children weren't allowed. She had cried and wailed until they were left with no choice, but to let us in. I remember her wiping away those fake tears and cooling her face back to the stoic mask I was used to.

If it came to her words against mine, I have no doubt who people would believe. After deliberating on all these, I had started trekking back to the house that night. In spite of the cold and how dangerous the streets were, I marched on. Hoping to get home before she decides to act on her threat.

It was around 2 am, when I knocked on the oak doors of the Blake mansion. And it took consistent banging that made my palms and knuckles bleed, for me to be granted entry thirty minutes later.

Time wasn't on my side, I was already 40 minutes late. I should probably give up, but I couldn't. I rather go there and be told that it's over, than decide at home that it was.

Donning the shirt and jeans, I complimented it with the hand-woven straw belt I made. A pair of fading gold dots as earrings. My caramel hair remained loose in curls, running down the length of my back. A light makeup, accentuating my rose cheeks and my cherry lips. And aiming for a touch of decency, I wore one of my coats, the light brown one with a customized belt.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I was beautiful. I have always known that fact, but also found it hard to accept. I mean, what's the use if this is the life I'm subject to live? Lacing my white Nike sneaks, I grabbed my brown handbag and stood up to check how I looked once again. A sneer twisted my face as I took in my appearance. I looked like someone heading to the club and not a business interview.

Waving off that concern, I headed downstairs. After checking everything and getting goodluck wishes from the staff, I left.

The morning air whipped at me. The sky was beautiful with patches of white and gray clouds as the sun made its way to the top. Making my way downtown, I drifted with the smell of baked goods, cakes, bread, buns and other confectioneries. My stomach growled at them as I realized that I hadn't eaten.

I walked by a man in a brown suit, a styrofoam of steaming coffee on one hand and a bagel on the other. And for a second the thought of robbing him took form in my mind as my stomach growled in agreement.

Of course, I couldn't do it no matter how successful my mind made it seem. Hurrying along past people walking their dogs, a couple that can't seem to let each other go even though they must part ways, a school boy with his graffiti skateboard, a trio of girls gossiping on their way to school, convenience stores, malls, bodegas, even Charlie's Vet.

"Sorry", the words left my lips even before I managed to regain my footing.

"Watch where you are going, asshole!" The girl I stumbled into yelled after me.

Deeming her not worthy of my time and attention, I continued on my way neglecting her curse. I didn't actually blame her, with how shitty my life was, hers could be worse.

Pacing and cursing inwardly as the fifth taxi sped across me, I groaned in frustration. I've been here ten minutes already and yet to get a cab. So in estimate from the time I left the house, juggling my way to this spot and ten minutes without a cab. I was about 55 minutes late. Five more minutes and I might just kiss that interview, goodbye.

In a city where private cars could be used for taxi or Uber, I was glad when the black Mercedes car screeched to a halt inches from where I stood. As I approached it, I realized that it looked too fancy for an Uber. It was glossy with tinted windows.

Running a hand on my hair and smelling my breath, I walked, confident that the driver must've taken a look at me and my dressing, and decided to help a beautiful girl with a lift.

I hated doing this. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Hey" I said standing by the back seat door as a man with shades alighted from the driver's seat. His blond hair was faded at the sides.

"Are you looking for someone or something?" He asked, not even looking at me. I was still waiting for him to be a gentleman and come and open the door.

He continued, "Wait, don't tell me that you know me. I mean, I know I got it and all that, but you guys should just lay off my back. Like the fuck!"

His outburst took me by surprise, what was happening? Embarrassment flushed my cheeks as I realized my mistake.

"My bad, I'm sorry" I was saying as he gathered his things. His wallet. His phone. "I thought you had pulled over for me, I…"

Cutting me off as he began pocketing said items, "Does this look like a fucking Uber, what even made you think th…"

He looked… really looked at me and for a while he was speechless. Yeah, I was that gorgeous.

"Hey, um… sorry, I didn't mean to be that harsh. I just didn't realize that you…"

"That I'm drop dead gorgeous" I supplied. "Yeah, too bad you didn't. I know I made a mistake, but you didn't have to be a prick about it. Good day"

"Hey, I'm really sorry. Come back, let me drop you off" He called as I began walking away.

"Go fuck yourself" I retorted.

Waving at the coming cab, life in its cruelty after my embarrassment, decided to let me be as the cab screeched to a halt.

My phone has been buzzing for five minutes now. Vera just doesn't know how to give up. "Maybe it's about time I fire her ass" I thought as the phone kept ringing.

Vera was my secretary and she ought to know that if I don't pick up when she's calling, certainly I must be busy. And yet, she kept calling again and again.

"God damnit! Just answer the fucking phone, man. I can't take it anymore" Chad said.

Sliding the ring icon to the green bar, I began in a voice I didn't bother to mask the rage layering underneath, "I swear this had better be very crucial, Vera. If not better leave your resignation letter on my desk before I get in"

"Truly sorry, Sir. I just got worried when you didn't pick up the first time as you usually do. I thought something bad had happened, that's why I kept calling. And also, it's 10 am already and you are yet to be here with no calls about the delay, which is very unlike you. Claire was also here, she came to drop off your salad and was worried when she didn't see you, but I assured her that everything was fine. That you just had an errand to run. But honestly Sir, where are you? The interview applicants are already murmuring and I'm running out of excuses…"

Running a palm on forehead in frustration, I listened as she rattled on and on. I had almost forgotten how loquacious she can be, especially when stressed. We had a history and though I've moved on, she clearly hasn't.

I would have fired her ass long ago, mostly after I grew tired of her. But she was the daughter of my mother's friend and Claire considered her a daughter, so she stayed.

I was glad I wasn't there to meet Claire, after the way I spoke to her before leaving the house. She must have come to apologize and I hated feeling guilty. Not to mention the salad. I truly appreciate her motherly care and everything, but she was doing too much.

Everyday she prepares this salad and brings it herself to the office. I hated it. How can someone stick to just fruits and vegetables as a meal?

And more annoying, she stays to make sure I get a few spoons in before leaving. I get that she was worried about my health, but she had to back off. And Lord knows what she meant by "Besides, I'm already planning something." I doubt it would be something good.

At the mention of our third biggest client, I was forced to keep listening,

"...Madame Dame also called requesting to speak with you and I lied telling her that you were with another client. She was kinda pissed after that. But can you blame her, she's like our third biggest client. And Sir, you will have to do something about it when you get back, I've already taken the liberty to order a bouquet that will be sent to her. Away from that, right as I'm speaking to you, an applicant almost left and if word gets out that we don't keep appointments, I fear what that would do to our publicity…"

"Oh shut it already Vera!" I snapped, my patience, extinguished. "Can't you just do your fucking job? You covered for me and so? Isn't that what I pay you to do? Oh wait, were you expecting a 'thank you'? Just thank your lucky stars for Claire, cause without her you wouldn't be in a position of yapping all these bunk. Some secretary you are, you can't even handle applicants" sucking in a breath, I finished, "Just get Harry or Sally, or fucking anyone to keep them busy. Be it a damn tour or a fucking trivia, do something. Be creative. For once, use that brain of yours."

I caught a nervous gulp of " Yes Sir" before I ended the call.

" Don't start," I said as I turned to face a grim-faced Chad. He believed in the same pathetic notion that I should try to treat people better. Even Lanke kept his gaze away from me. "Like hell, l care," I muttered as I walked to the balcony for some air.

My heart was already acting up again. I could feel pain tightening in my chest. Gripping the glass rail of the balcony, I tried to regulate my breath and keep myself from slumping as fatigue washed over me.

"Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me" I managed through clenched teeth, white knuckles and gasps of air, as Lanke's shadow appeared beside me.

"Believe me Sir, I know better. Just wanted to inform you that your friend is here" he said departing.

I stayed there nursing the pain in my chest, the weight of tiredness pressing down on me and gasping for breath. I hated it when this happened. Being reduced to frailness.

It took longer this time. Aaron and Chad's voice felt far away as I shut my eyes tightly against the pain. I don't know if it was thirty minutes or longer before the pain subsided, my breath returned to normal and I could stand on my feet again.

"About fucking time" I pronounced as I walked in.

"Could say the same of you", Aaron answered.

Chad sat on the bed devouring a tray of freshly baked bagels and a steaming mug of black coffee. Lanke stood by the corner trying his best not to look at me. Though he was doing a shitty job at hiding the concern that furrowed his brows.

"I would've gotten here sooner" my blond friend began, "but I had to make a quick stop. And then I met this gorgeous girl that practically offered herself on a silver platter. She had been waiting for a cab and when I pulled over she thought it was on her behalf. In my stupidity, I cursed her ass without even looking at her. When I eventually did, I couldn't believe my eyes, she was a fucking goddess."

Slumping on the other side of the bed, he ran his hands on his gold hair and went on, "A girl like that, is a rare find even though she was kinda bitchy at the end. And I fucking let her slip through my fingers" he emphasized with a flick of his thumb against his index.

"As much as I applaud your frivolities, aren't you just coming from a girl's bed? After dumping her ass I might add, and already you are talking about another girl already. Now is neither the time nor is here the place, can't you take pity on our friend" I pointed at Chad, who froze with a bagel inches from his mouth.

"Pity!" Aaron laughed. He was a tad more spoiled than the two of us, and at times that affected his reasoning. Well, at least to the point that he doesn't seem to know when to be serious and when to joke about things.

After laughing his face off, he held up both hands and said to a raged Chad,

"No offense, Chad, but the rule has always been clear. 'Never fall for these bitches'. But I guess you've learnt your lesson now", another round of laughter.

"That's it, there he is. I was beginning to wonder if it would take all day to bring you back"

Standing between them, as Lanke held a charging Chad away from where Aaron sat cross-legged, a grin on his face, I appeased.

"Hey, hey, it's alright Chad. I'm sure he didn't mean it like that and you, Aaron, can you quit behaving like a child. You have to apologize to Chad, then take him home. I've taken care of the debts and now I need to start heading to the office."

"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, we warned him didn't we? As far as I'm concerned, he owes us an apology for breaking the rules. Besides, aren't you glad to see our boy back " Aaron whined.

"I've said all I want to say, Lanke you can let go of him. If they wish to kill themselves, then let them have a fucking go at it."

For a moment, as Lanke let Chad go, it felt like he was actually going to have a go at Aaron. But then, he sagged beside him and returned to his wallowing. This time, Aaron held him though his expression said "I wish I could punch the sense into him."

As I walked to the elevator, he mouthed,

"Please don't leave me with him"

"Goodluck with Mrs Helen!" I called just as the door dinged shut.

I have always loved the city. The sights. The buildings. The people. It's always an entrancing sight, but not so much as the cab sped past them.

The tall buildings that I have to cran my neck to see. The shops with lights like a Christmas tree. The arts on the buildings and streets. The graffiti. The wares displayed over glass panes. The antique stores with souvenirs from the past. The jewels that gleamed in the morning light on glass shelves.

People walking their dogs and cats. Those chatting in front of restaurants and coffee shops. The queue in front of the famous La Doux Bakery and their peculiar smell drifted in the air. Beggars and the homeless asking for alms. Teachers and students running late. Even my favorite game of checking and judging styles and fashion of passersby, felt dull.

My mind was too reeled by hate and anger to care about anything else.

"Why do people think that because they are rich, they are more than human? Like their wealth offers a superpower and a level higher than people like me? And must they always be assholes without a shred of humanity?"

Questions kept charging through my mind. Again and again, building up my rage. I hated Alicia and her daughters. I hated the blond fool I met minutes ago and I hated the man who I once called father, the woman who loved him and I hated life.

It felt like all those anger and rage I had suppressed in the past were now building and rising to the surface.

There are people born with anger issues. Inherently, it's in them and there are those whose life and experiences turn them into a boiling lava waiting to erupt. And I fear mine was almost about to erupt.

I tasted tears. Salty against my sugary lipstick. Why was I even crying? Why is my life so messed up? Why can't I ever be happy? Why must life be cruel to me and why can't people just be people?

"Young lady, are you alright?" The middle aged driver asked.

"Great! Now I have to contend with pity." I muttered.

"What was that?" The man asked, his eyes were kind and the color of the sky on a sunny morning like this.

Sniffing back my tears, I snapped, "I said I'm fine, just keep your eyes on the road and get me to where I'm heading. Gosh, can't someone have a moment of privacy?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be all up in your business. It's just that I hate seeing people in tears. It does something to me" he replied, his eyes glinting with kindness and something that came close to tears.

"Oh God. Have I become an asshole myself? Have I become the same people I hate?" The questions echoed through my mind in waves of guilt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be harsh. Life just hasn't been fair, this morning most of all" I apologized.

"Oh you don't have to apologize, I totally understand. The truth is that life never is. Even those you think theirs are perfect, are also dealt with blows from life."

"I doubt that. If it's so, then they won't be such assholes"

The man smiled. From the rear mirror, I noticed he looked younger when he smiled.

"My dear" he said, "rich or poor. Male or female. White or black. Life deals with each of us in its own way. And we react to it in our own way, some cry, no offense–"

"None taken" I quickly responded, wiping my eyes.

His smile stretched more as he continued, "Others rage about it, some even kill themselves when the blow is too much to bear and there are some who respond by being 'assholes'. But me, I pray about it. Plaster a smile on my face and keep going. And I advise you to do the same."

I could tell that he really meant that last part. His demeanor and smile spoke volumes of his kindness, and how much he wanted to share it with anyone he came in contact with.

But I didn't believe in God or that there's anyone up there who answered prayers. If there was, certainly my circumstances would have been different or changed by now.

I once believed when my life had been a bubble. We were happy and life had been kind then. We went to church every Sunday and prayed every night. Even the man who I once called 'dad' participated in these activities. I remember he used to be diligent and so loving. Everyone at our local church loved him. But I guess all that was a lie.

But if there had been a God, he deserted us that fateful night as we watched the news. And I remember how fervently I prayed for everything to be fine, for my mom to be released, even my dad. I was eight then and I didn't hate him as much as I do now.

I even prayed for Alicia to be kind, to treat me like I was a human just like her. And I know, it's stupid, but I remember also praying for a fairy godmother, anyone or anything that would save me from the cruelty I faced just like my favorite Disney princess, Cinderella.

But as I grew, without any of these prayers answered. I succumbed to reality and shunned away fantasies, gods and beliefs. Waiting to be saved was something that happened in books and fairytales and my life was either.

I don't really remember the particular age when I became resolved to change my own fate. But I think it was after three years of laboring, surviving on crumbs and going to bed late. With each day worse than the last, I decided to stop wasting my strength and energy on wishes and prayers. I accepted my fate, went about my activities, groomed myself and I know one day, I will change my fate. Starting with securing this job, no matter what it takes… if I haven't missed it entirely.

"Thanks for your advice" I said when I realized the man was waiting for a response.

"Happy to help, and by the way, I'm Gary"

"Sofia," I answered.

"Nice to meet you, Sofia. I don't know what it is that prompted your tears or anger earlier, but I assure you, all will be fine. Just keep going, keep praying and with time, all will be well." He assured in that kind tone that can affect even the stoniest of hearts.

"Thank you once again. I'm immensely grateful" I forced myself to say in a voice I hope sounded optimistic.

It would be cruel to tell Gary that prayers were useless. That all he needed was to keep going and striving for better without believing or hoping that there's anyone up there, down below or anywhere helping. In the battle against life, I'm afraid we stand alone.

So, I just nodded when he waved off my thanks.

I rolled the glass all the way down, and allowed the morning breeze sweep my hair and face. I heard a chuckle of approval from Gary as he stepped on the gas.

My happiness was cut short as we made a turn straight into honking cars and shouting men.

"Great" I groaned as we joined the line of cars, honking to get across.

Five minutes after Gary made inquiries. We discovered that this wasn't ordinary traffic, two men had blocked the road. Apparently, one of them clashed into the other and he was too stubborn to accept his mistake.

And the victim was also too stubborn to let go. Two stubborn hotheads, refusing to back down. The situation had gotten so bad that they had punctured each other's tires, meaning that the only way any of the cars were leaving was with a towing van and the closest towing company was on the other side of town.

In essence, I wasn't leaving anytime soon.

Amidst the horns and traffic, the sirens of a cop car blared. But even with their involvement, they only managed to get the men to stop yelling. Little help they could do to get the cars out of the way. Only the towing van which would take more than 30 minutes to get here could help and I would be damned if I wait.

After trying for the dozenth time to convince Gary to take his fee, all to no avail. I dashed out of there.