My pits itched. Sweat drenched it and certain parts of my body. My sides burned.

I have been running. Ever since I left Gary and now I must wade through these herd of onlookers.

"Sorry. Pardon me. Coming through" I kept saying as I tried to push my way through the packed crowd.

"Girl!, you better not step on my sneaks. They're limited edition" a girl said as I pushed past her.

"Sorry" I called, not bothering to look back. In truth, I wanted to retort "If they are, then why don't you move them out of the way" cause clearly she didn't deserve an apology. She was one of those people 'Live' on PipPop.

PipPop was an app that allowed people to go 'Live' in situations like the one before me. In doing so, they kept people informed of what's happening at the present. Those watching then comment and react.

The app also allowed uploading of videos and clips which can also be reacted or commented on.

"You are a prick!" The man in blue overalls shouted.

"Your brokenness is your problem. Better quit this waste of time for a job you have. I can even help you with one if you can put your pride aside" The other man in polo and jeans called back.

I had wanted to move through the crowd, and I did, but somehow I had managed to get in front of the situation.

Inches from where I was, the yellow and black "DO NOT CROSS" tapes of cops marked the crime scene. Beyond the tapes, the men were restrained by two hunks of cops. But apparently, they couldn't do much about the curses they hauled at each other.

"Privileged prick! How can someone like you give me a job when at this time of the day, you are drunk and high already? Looking at you, I can already tell that you've never worked a day in your life, so leave me to waste my time, but at least I don't go around crashing into others and denying responsibility." The man in overalls retorted.

On the left side of his overalls was a gold and blue threaded embroidery of a man carrying a box with the words just below the silhouette.

"RealTime Delivery Services

(Keeping deliveries real and quick)"

A white van with the same logo in blue and gold blocked the road with all four of its tires punctured. And just a few inches from the taillight was a dent. The silver gray Porsche blocked by the van wasn't looking so nice either. All four of its tires were punctured too and the fender looked like something that received a Superman punch.

"Maybe if your folks had worked as hard as you are working now, then you wouldn't have to be broke."

"Asshole, how dare you drag my parents into this!" the man in overalls yelled, trying to break free from the arms holding him in place.

I doubt he would do much with the cuffs on his hands, but I could be wrong. The anger that reddened his face and the hate in his eyes really could give me a run for my money.

The rich prick, yeah, I certainly think he is a prick. He made to offer a retort, but a girl pushed past me and her words drowned out his.

"Oh Pan46, I totally agree with you, the delivery guy should be released. After all, it was the rich asshole who ran into him and tried to speed away. Can you believe people? Rosedan55, you get it. The rich can be real bitches. Hey, AnnaT66, don't come onto me, I just echoed a comment. You don't have to take it personal…"

It was the same girl on PipPop, and apparently she was really generating reactions and comments. Her phone screen was blowing up with thumbs up and different heart colored emojis.

"Hey, would you like to make a live comment?" she asked, tapping my shoulder.

I hated being thrown into the spotlight like that. Don't get me wrong, I reveled in attention, but not when it's sprung on me.

I watched an awkward me from her screen as she threw her arm across my shoulder.

"Em.. erm, what sup guys" I began.

"Definitely Sassy44, she's cute, but shy. Oh don't be rude, Terry18, you can't tell her to fuck off."

Different reactions colored her screen - red and purple devil emojis, red 'X', even clown emojis and most comments were hateful.

DD53

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?"

Gab31

"You are cute as hell when you are shy"

Fuck23

"Just say something or get the hell out of there!"

"You hear them girl, say something or bounce!" the girl practically yelled at my ear.

Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from them as possible, but knowing my generation. If I leave, I could trend as a coward for weeks, if not months. I may keep a low profile on my socials, but with my face, they would find me and troll me as long as they wanted.

After repeating "I can do this" several times in my mind, I squared my shoulders and spoke,

"Hello guys, you really have to give a girl a break. My life is crazy right about now"

"Heart" emojis reacted to my words.

"4Ever, thank you, but I believe I can get through it and thank you guys for your support. Anyways, yeah I totally agree, some rich folks can be real bitches. They are privileged pricks who think their wealth gives them an edge over others. I mean, why would someone crash into another and instead of apologizing, he tries to race away and wait, I hear he was as drunk and high as fuck when he did it. Should he even be driving on such state?, like seriously WHAT THE FUCK!"

I excused myself, embarrassed that I had allowed my anger to rise that much. It really didn't need much motivation, the situation with the blond guy earlier was all it needed. But not before seeing the girl's screen almost blinded by likes, emojis and comments.

"Heww! That girl really hate them rich folks. But can you blame her…" she was saying, before I walked beyond earshot.

I wasn't really proud or happy about some of the things I said, but I kinda felt lighter after that vent.

Still it doesn't make it right nor does the drive to document everything, to trend, which is slowly becoming a virus with my generation, right.

I have seen situations where two grown ass men or women are fighting, the kind where clothes are shredded and fatality holds a tier. But instead of people trying to separate them, they rather go 'Live' and generate comments and reactions.

Only after that, do they actually give a fuck about those fighting. And most times, a lot of damage has been done already.

I shoved through the crowd again, this time not even bothering to be polite or apologetic. Seconds later, it was all behind me, the screams, the raised phones, even journalists reporting the situation, little help that would do when more than twenty persons had been screening the event minutes before their arrival.

I stopped to button down my coat, hiding the lewd crop shirt I knotted below my midriffs and tied my belt.

The look was really not giving a fashion sense, but there wasn't a look Sofia Blake couldn't pull off. Tossing back my hair, I continued my dash.

Two more turns, and I screeched to a halt as the pencil architectural design skyscraper of the famous Wellington Empire loomed in front of me.

Set between shorter glass buildings with LED screens showing ads. Fashion ads, trending designer jewelries, tech, movies, shows and even recent news. In the very heart of the hub of New City, it cast a shadow of dominance and rayed the early morning light of the sun.

"My future here I come" I said with optimism as I approached the building.

Pushing my way through the revolving glass door, a wow escaped my lips as I stood surrounded by grandeur.

It was high ceilinged (at least 20 feet) with recessed lighting. Walls clad in polished white and gold marble. On both sides, right and left were a grand, sweeping staircase connecting the lobby to upper floors.

Between the staircases, two elevators stood demarcated by a floor to ceiling LED screen that showed the current CEO of the company – Richard Wellington, in different attires all accentuated with dark shades. Jeans and shirts, jeans and polos, shirts and pants, suits and coats.

The youngest CEO according to New City Fashion Review, Bogue and other fashion headliners, after succeeding his father, Edward Wellington at the age of 22.

The dark haired Olympian God, dazzled in every picture, no matter the attire. There was even one that showed him wearing a tailored white dishdasha, adorned with intricate gold embroidery. A matching keffiyeh scarf wrapped elegantly around his neck, secured with a simple yet ornate agal. His feet were clad in polished black leather babouche slippers, adorned with subtle silver thread patterns. A sleek, silver-trimmed Oud wood fragrance flask hung from his neck.

Normally the attire would look stupid on most people, but with the dark shades that rimmed his eyes, Richard Wellington rocked the look like a true Arabian prince.

When he stepped in as the new CEO, within just a year, every news channel or gossip column carried the feed about the progress this beau had managed to accomplish. I started following him on all socials, he was a progeny. An icon in the fashion world.

The designs he came up with were second to none. And when he rocked any of them, the eyes just couldn't get enough of him.

At one point, I thought of him as a mentor, but then I got wind of his character. Especially after the Rosa Ross scandal.

Rosabella Rossi or 'Rosa Ross' as she preferred to be called, was regarded as the most beautiful woman in 2018 after winning the 'World Most Beautiful' that year.

Months after that, she was seen with Richard Wellington. The duo was everyone's favorite couple. They trended on all socials with hashtags like, #RR, #RiRosa, #RichRosa and the likes.

It lasted only 8 months before, the news of Richard's rakish reputation blazed like wildfire on the internet. Apparently, he had been cheating on Rosabella from the start and he was so good at covering his tracks that it took her 8 months to discover.

The video of her weeping and cursing Richard till date remains one of the most viral posts ever. Reaching up to one third of the world population.

Testimonies from other victims surfaced after that and the darling of the fashion world became a monster. The annoying part of it all was that he didn't care about any of it.

I remember a statement he made during that period when a journalist out of all others who hoarded him had managed to halt him with his question.

"Mr Wellington, are you truly as bad as the media is painting you?

"I'm afraid the things they say are just understatements"

I unfollowed him after that and though the world has started forgiving him, I simply can't.

Yeah I know, if I can't stand the guy then why am I here? Well, my position if I can secure it will be as a clerk and I doubt I would ever run into the guy.

In the heart of the vast lobby was a dramatic fountain-like revolving glass case. Within the glass case were jewels and watches of different brands.

Brands that partnered with the Wellington Empire like Glance, Ixe and others I don't know their names.

Suspended above the glass case, was the majestic Wellington Fashion Empire logo – the double WW merged within a circle, all in silver.

Bright, airy natural light poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows. And recessed LED lighting and designer chandeliers or pendant lights

highlighted architectural features.

On the walls were striking, large-scale art installations and fashion photography like their past collections showcasing models on the runway.

There were also elegant, minimalist displays showcasing Wellington Fashion Empire's latest designs and glimpses of what the new collection would look like.

"Good morning and welcome to Wellington. What brings you to our fashion domain?" a woman donning the black tee with the Wellington logo engraved boldly at the right in silver, asked me.

Other staff, at least those I could see at the lobby, wore the same tee, matching it with dark jeans.

"Good morning, I'm really hoping that I haven't missed it, but I'm here for the interview"

"That's alright. Go and meet with any of our receptionists, I'm sure they will be of help. Do have yourself a beautiful day!" she intoned, her face radiant with a kind smile.

I suppose that's what her job entailed, smiling and welcoming customers to the Wellington headquarters, and no matter how bad things are in her life, she still

has to smile and beam like all is perfect. How exhausting that can be.

"Hello and Welcome to Wellington, how may I help you?" the receptionist on the farthest right asked as I stood before her.

Wait. I know that face.

"Emily James! Is it really you?" I asked, unable to hide my astonishment.

"Oh my God, Sofia Blake, what are you doing here?"

She still looked the same from the last time I saw her during my internship at Bogue. Freckled face, coppery hair and the kindest brown eyes. She wore a black dress shirt with buttons of silver and the Wellington logo embroidered at the right in shimmering silver.

I couldn't see what she complimented it with. Their desk was raised.

"I really can't believe my eyes, so Emily you work here now? That's amazing" I answered, looking at her with pride.

"It's a long story, one I hope I can share with you one day over drinks or something if you can ever leave that hell of a house."

"That's part of why I'm here actually, my application for the position of a clerk was accepted and I'm here for the interview"

"Do you mean the same interview that was scheduled for 10am today? Come on Sof, you are an hour late." She answered.

"I know, Alicia and her evil daughters made sure of it. They even wrecked the clothes I was supposed to wear, but instead of deciding that I have lost it at home. I decided to come and find out myself, at least it's better than regretting afterwards"

"Again, I still don't know what you are still doing in that house, just leave or run away–"

"It's not that easy," I interjected.

"Fine. Well, like I said the interview was scheduled for an hour ago, but… I'm really not supposed to tell you this, but you are my friend, one I haven't seen in a while." Leaning close so only me would hear, she went on, "Due to some circumstances, the interview hasn't started yet and I hear the boss just arrived. If you can hurry, I doubt anyone would notice if you join the others on the 50th floor and yes take the elevator."

I took her hands and said,

"Em, how can I ever repay you for this? You are truly an amazing friend."

Squeezing my hands in return, she said,

"Get out of here already, Sof. Don't thank me now until you get that job, I will love nothing more than seeing your face everyday and besides this is nothing compared to what you did for me. In fact that I'm here now, I owe it to you"

"I doubt that, anyway I hope we'll talk about it later. Once again thank you so much, Em"

"Go already!, and goodluck"

I had helped Emily during our internship at Bogue. She lacked fashion sense and people ridiculed her for it, until I showed her how to channel that uniqueness and still rock her style.

We partnered on several projects. And that cemented our friendship. We confided in each other and shared a lot with one another. But I never would've guessed seeing her here, working as one of the receptionists at Almighty Wellington.

The elevator was about to close when I stuck my bag into the gap, keeping it from closing.

"Sorry" I said, not bothering to take in the man in shades behind me as I took my place inches away from him.

"Leave" I heard him gruff behind me as I waited for him to press a button.

"Excuse me"

"Oh don't act dumb, I'm pretty sure I didn't stutter"

"What is wrong with this man?" I pondered. Is he really allergic to people or wait, he must be one of those privileged pricks who think sharing the elevator with others is below his status.

Trying not to be rude even as I felt my anger rising,

"Sir, I'm sure we can enjoy this ride in peace, just press the button and I will do my best to pretend that I'm not even here"

"I don't need you to pretend, what I need is very simple. Exit the elevator or do you have hearing difficulties?" he said in that privileged tone I've been hearing all my life from Alicia, her girls, the blondie I met minutes ago, even the rich prick that ran into the delivery guy.

I hate to insult someone on my very first day here, so I tried leniency again,

"Please Sir, I'm in a hurry and I need this ride, so–"

"So just exit the elevator, because there's no way this thing is moving unless you leave!" He yelled, cutting me off.

People at the lobby were staring now as the elevator remained open. My anger had risen to the surface and there's no way in hell, I was going to let another privileged prick tell me what to do just because life deals easy with him.

So, damning the consequences, I grumbled,

"Suit yourself. I'm not leaving and if you will die sharing a ride with me then I suggest you leave instead"

"Wait, what did you just say?" He was angry now and I know he must've turned red like a cherry about to burst, yet I didn't look at him nor did I care.

"I'm pretty certain I didn't stutter" I

replied, my voice laced with quiet rage.

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE" he yelled, almost deafening my ears.

"Oh you're angry, well so am I" I said as I punched on the button with the number 50.

Just before the elevator dinged shut, I made out a couple security guards dashing towards us and a frightened Emily saying,

"Oh my God, Sofia do you even have any idea who you are talk-"

And the gold plated bars of the elevator dinged shut.

"What the hell, Rich? Were you trying to choke me?" Cassie rasped.

She was red, like fifty shades red. Her hands clasped her throat as she fumed.

I ignored her as I quickly zipped my fly and smoothened my pants.

"Ow, ow, ow" she kept repeating as she sagged on the bed still clutching her throat.

"And I have to perform… in five days, what… do I do? You better pray… this goes away… by then."

Her voice was getting more raspy with each word. And with how tightly her face was squeezed, it must hurt like hell.

I barely gave her a glance from the gold rimmed mirror where I stood adjusting my tie. In truth, a part of me felt for her, but the thing with being as ruthless as I've become is that constant fueling of that dark side eventually silences the human side.

Or so I had thought…

"You could have killed her", that voice I really thought I had silenced echoed through my mind. Then the images came, her hands pounding on my thighs. The drool that oozed from her mouth as I thrust faster and faster. The veins that appeared on her forehead as she choked. The pain that reddened her face as she tried to get me to stop. And the drowsy fluttering of her lids as she began to slip to unconsciousness.

At the moment, I had enjoyed every moment, but now that stupid voice was trying to get me to feel bad. With those images, it was trying to picture me, a monster.

"What will I do?" I heard her sob from behind me, and in spite of myself I watched as streaks cascaded down her reddish cheeks.

"Monster!. Monster!!. Monster!!!."

The voice kept echoing, getting louder each time.

I tightly shut my eyes and tried to get it to stop. But then other images began to flip through my mind. Leaving Lindsey that night. Rosa Ross smeared face as she wept and cursed me. Her post afterwards in a rehabilitation center.

Apparently what I did to her broke the walls of self-esteem. Before the incident, she believed that she was truly lovable, that she was irresistible, and then realized that a man could play with her for 8 months without her prior knowledge. That scarred and marred her to the point of indulging and addiction.

That's if she's to be believed. Who's to say that she didn't post that picture just to go viral like her weeping video? Anyway, I have been in this game industry since birth and I know people would do anything for it.

If there was ever a time that prompted change, it was during that Rosa Ross scandal. I remember being haunted by her tears and curses. I remember experiencing difficulties in sleeping, doing my job and basically living my life.

I fucked and manhandled other girls, but nothing changed. I remember the only thing that sorta helped was being high every minute of the day.

In a way instead of inspiring change, those moments drove me deeper into the dark side.

My hate for life and its cruelties fueled my own flames of cruelty. I also remember telling myself that Rosa will surely recover, rehab will help or whatever she needs to do. But in death, there's no rehab or therapy. Death… simply is death.

Cassie broke down into full fledged weeping, as she sagged to the floor her knees raised to shield her face and quieten her sobs. But I still heard them, each, a knife striking my heart again and again.

"I didn't change during the time of Rosa Ross, so why would I now?" I thought to myself.

"Perhaps because you went too far this time. Because you almost cost her the only part of her that will make her great. And you could have killed her outright." That same wretched voice intoned as if answering my question.

I needed to get as far away from Cassie

As possible, I can't allow myself to grow soft when life chooses to remain tough with me.

She didn't even raise her face when I opened the door, that single gesture froze my movement. Cassie never plays with her fee, but today she couldn't care less.

"For fuck's sake! Can you quit being pathetic already, nothing will happen to your voice. Once I get to the car, I'll send you your fee, enough to go visit a laryngologist or a fucking phoniatrist. Just stop already, it's disgusting watching and listening to you." I said, more to silence the stupid voice in my mind than for her chagrin.

"Go… to… hell" she managed, her voice this time breaking, but more audible.

"Now, that's my girl" I answered with a grin, shutting the door lest she haul a pillow towards me.

Thankfully no soul was in the hall, the last thing I needed was a picture of myself on tomorrow's 'City Burn' asking what I was doing exiting one of the Gold Express roams of Falling Stars Hotel.

I tried not to be in much haste as I walked to the entrance, calling Lanke to bring the car to the entrance helped. At least, I looked like a businessman already late for an appointment, which in reality wasn't far from the truth.

Lanke didn't utter a word as I came in, he just gave me a quick glance from the rear mirror and stepped on the gas.

He kept mute during the supposed fifteen minutes drive that somehow took twice the duration due to a traffic congestion just two turns to the office. He had wordlessly turned the car around, not even asking for permission, in search for an alternate route that had taken the extra fifteen minutes.

Because of how unsettling his silence was, I didn't allow him to bring up my case, I just ordered him to be dismissed until I had need of him.

I had a routine for walking into the building that was the headquarters of my brand. A fake ass dazzling smile in response to greetings as I passed.

As I walked to the elevator I had taken a quick glance at the reception desk and there was this girl in a weird attire, a buttoned down coat over blue jeans and sneaks. My thoughts had been "Hopefully she was here to shop so as that fashion error won't repeat itself"

There was a rule every staff member knew well. In fact, upon employment it is the first rule each staff is expected never to break.

"Never enter the elevator if a board member or a top ranked employee is inside"

It was simple, but apparently the stupid bitch that lacked fashion sense wasn't aware as she wedged the bars with her bag.

"Sorry" she said entering, not even bothering to look at me.

And she had come in so fast that I didn't get a proper look at her and now she had her back to me.

My time with Cassie was supposed to help me relax and feel content, but with the way things turned out, I was anything, but content or relaxed. And this situation was the very last thing I needed, "not if I can help it" I echoed to myself.

"Leave" I said in a voice bearing all my frustration.

"Excuse me?," the fool asked.

"Oh don't act dumb, I'm pretty sure I didn't stutter"

"What is it with this bitch? Is she high or simply dumb?" I pondered.

"Sir, I'm sure we can enjoy this ride in peace, just press the button and I will do my best to pretend that I'm not even here" she answered, her voice lingering on irritation.

"I don't need you to pretend, what I need is very simple. Exit the elevator or do you have hearing difficulties?" I prompted in the same tone I have seen many cower when they hear it.

But this girl wasn't afraid. She just stood still, never looking at me, her stance saying "Do your worst". And yet her next words were a plea.

"Please Sir, I'm in a hurry and I need this ride, so–"

That did it. I have had enough of her stupidity as I barked cutting her off,

"So just exit the elevator, because there's no way this thing is moving unless you leave!"

Customers, clients and staff at the lobby stared. And at that moment I wanted nothing more than to push her outside, but etiquette especially in front of these people demanded otherwise.

I watched her take in the crowd staring

back at her and for a second I thought she would leave, but instead,

"Suit yourself. I'm not leaving and if you will die sharing a ride with me then I suggest you leave instead" she retorted, tossing a strand of her brown hair across her shoulder.

The scent of honey filled my nostrils and I couldn't take my eyes off her rich long hair.

Perhaps that was what messed with my mind because the next words I uttered weren't what I intended,

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"I'm pretty certain I didn't stutter" she replied with a tone laced with rage.

The bitch had balls, I would give her that, reprising my very own words back to me. And that fueled the rage that coursed through me.

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE" I yelled, hoping to startle her into obedience.

But this girl was a mule. She only cringed at my words for a second before continuing as if the words held no impart,

"Oh you're angry, well so am I" I heard her say as she hastily punched on the 50th floor's button.

I made out Tony and Gerald, two of the lobby's security guards, dashing towards us. Even the receptionist whom the girl had been talking to earlier. I don't really remember her name as she has barely worked for 6 months with us, was saying,

"Oh my God, Sofia do you even have any idea who you are talk-"

Before the gold coated bars of the elevator like two lips arching to meet, kissed shut.