Music Recommendation; Secrets In Your Head by Unsecret

"Thanks to you, I have been doing very great." I respond in a tone of pleasant sarcasm that would have likely not be realized if it had been someone else.

The corners of his mouth curves into a loop sided grin. The kind he used to have when he knows he has gotten under my skin. Of course he is enjoying seeing me here.

"Am I still the worst person in your life?" I wasn’t expecting that.

"Yeah. No one has taken your crown, fortunately."

"Good." He murmurs. Is that what he is supposed to say? What was I expecting? That the devil would forsake his horns for a halo and pretend to be an angel?

His eyes slowly trail downward to my chest, lingering on the curve of it. He doesn’t care or pretend to hide his checking out.

That is who is. He does whatever he wants and does not care a pin how much negative effect it would have on someone else. No, he likes it when there is an effect—a cruel one. That is the fun for him. It’s no fun if there is no damage.

I instinctively want to put my hands over my chest to shield it from his notorious eyes.

The only reason I am not doing that is because I know it will undermine the personality I’m trying to adopt in his commanding presence. His lips parts slightly, his pupils looking dilated than they were a second ago. He keeps staring. Unblinkingly. My chest is naked right now because of his gaze.

"Eyes off my boobs asshole!" I say when I could no longer take it.

I am already dealing with a lot comporting myself and he has the nerve to be checking out my boobs like he is imprinting it into his memory and comparing it how it was back then.

I wonder what is going on right now in that twisted mind of his. I can almost deduce.

He stands up from his chair, and struts slowly to where I am with intention. His rolled up sleeves reveals his strong arms with hints of black ink peeking out.

His fine shoes hitting the ground to me sounded and felt like faint, distant gunshots, teasing me to break and be afraid.

And it is kinda working. This feels familiar. Typical predator and prey. What was I expecting? A warm handshake and a nice interview with my number one highschool bully?

I feel myself getting twitchy. My composure is cracking under the invisible weight of his cruel masculinity. His stare is the height of it all. Pale green orbs. They are beautiful. He has the most beautiful eyes I have seen.

But they contain a lot of ferociousness. They narrow like slits and become like that of a snake when he is mad. So does the rest of his features that has now become more sculpted and distinct. He is. . . . . beautiful, to say the least. Even through my hate, I have to acknowledge and admit that he is. It seems like the creator wanted to somehow counter and extenuate his dark, unemphatic heart with extremely good looks. It failed miserably. There is no use for an empty bottle no matter how nice it is made to look. But this is a man. A man who does not lift a finger to get what he wants.

I hate him differently for that. Why does he have to get such a face that is capable of tampering even hatred?

He stands in front of me and it takes everything in me for me to not step back or not look down from his direct gaze. I am still tightly holding the bag strap like I am drawing courage from it. His height seems to have gotten higher than six foot two. I feel more smaller compared to him than I was back then. Even with really high heels on. With his eyes lazily and intently sweeping on my body from head to toe, he asked.

"Why are you here, dressed to kill Calloway?" I used to tell him to not call me by my last name. That was a mistake because he began doing it more because I told him not to.

"I believe you know why. We do not have any kind of camaraderie that would require me to just come see you to say hi, and thank you for how you made my life back then."

He tips his head back and lets out an amused scoff at my response.

It feels like we are breathing the same air because of how close we are. I’m worried he can be able to hear my thumping heartbeat. He is looking down at me, I’m looking up at him.

"I never thought you would show up. Here." He drawls the last part in subtle emphasis. I casually shrug. "Well neither did I. But desperation is a really bad bitch." I coolly rebut.

He leaves me and goes back to his seat. And I greedily breathe in air as soon as he leaves the space. "You do have a great recommendation." He admitted flatly.

"That is all there is. You are not fitting to be a floor receptionist much more my secretary."

"I know that. Trust me, I would rather be anywhere than here right now. Like I said earlier, I’m desperate. So give me the job." I’m demanding instead of asking. I do not know where it is coming from. He looks at me, I don’t know if he is surprised by the way I spoke because he has on a blank expression. He picks up a file folder. I did not know it contains my data until he began reading aloud; "Name: Gweneth Calloway. ."

He pauses and looks at me over the file to make a comment on me not adding my middle name Iris. He remembers my middle name. I remember his too. You don’t have to long for someone or be in love to remember and know things about them. All these years I have never forgotten him. He has a different personal place in my mind.

Hate is a different type of longing.

Hope he remembers me well too. The girl he hated but went crazy over his head for. He should remember.

"Age: 26. Sex: Female. Education: Dropped out from Krohn’s Highschool." He makes another pause like he is realizing something before speaking again. "This cannot be called a resume. What makes you think you are cut out to be my secretary?" He throws the file and it falls just right in front of me. I had flinched. I thought it would really hit me. "Get out." He deadpans with finality. No I can’t take that.

"Then make me a temp!" I pressed on quickly. "Just for six months. Please?" I fought for my voice to come out steady and not give away the fact that I am hurt by his words. My resume is unimpressive, I know that better than anyone. It is my fault for being too scared to further my education after my experience at Krohn’s.

The fear that I might face the same thing at another school became a phobia for me. And it is all because of him. He seems to have forgotten that. Or he just does not realized how much damage he caused to my life. They never do. Now I’ve got to plead because this option is all I’ve got. I thought I would be okay without it. But that is far from the rational truth.

The employed status alone will suffice greatly because then I can be able to get a loan.

"Others that are qualified cannot handle it let alone you." He says. Something tells me he is right.

"I will try my best." I quickly respond. "I have handled things that can be considered worse."

"Like what? Me?" Silence was my response. He does know. There is a tick in his jaw.

"You ran away the next day. Why?" How insensitive of him to bring that up. He is making it sound like he had not given me a potent reason to. "Is that supposed to be a question?" I scoff, putting my hands on the table, bringing my head to his seated eye level so I can look into his damn eyes.

"You know what you did.

Was it disappointing for you that I did not stay and face the humiliation you put on me? If so I am deeply sorry for depriving you of that ultimate satisfaction!" My voice sounded shaky now. He has succeeded in cracking me.

"But here you are nine years and six months after all that, asking to be in my space again. Isn’t that ironic?"

"Are you giving me the job or not?"

"Did you miss my tongue stroke that day? I missed yours." He teasingly remarks. For me, that is like a wound reopening.

"Don’t bring up the past!" I warn.

But he goes on. "How is Percy by the way?

Hope he does not remember any of the things we did in your room that night?

I so much would hate it if corrupting that innocent soul adds to my list of sins."

"How did Rex cope with the way you treated his girlfriend?" His face changes upon my words. I smirk, putting my finger to my chin in a thoughtful gesture. "I cannot really tell since I left. But I say he didn’t take it well. He really liked me then." Rex was his best friend in highschool. They were even practically brothers. Rex was the only one who protected me from Calyx. He even confessed that he liked me. Calyx did not like that and the fact that I was close to his friend. He callously destroyed what had been budding into a relationship between us. If we hadn’t been broken apart by Calyx,

he would have been my very first boyfriend and first love. We might have even be married by now. He was a really good guy. The thought brings in a sad feeling. I hate to think that Calyx did what he did because he was jealous, or that he oddly took a liking to me. I do not believe it even though he himself had said it. It is easier to believe that he is just an asshole who was just on a mission to ruin my life.