Chapter 10: SOFIA

Pushing my way through the revolving glass door, a wow escaped my lips as I stood surrounded by grandeur. The lobby was vast and high-ceiled (at least 20 feet) with recessed lighting. Walls clad in polished white and gold marble. On both sides, right and left, was a grand, sweeping staircase connecting the lobby to the 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 attire, 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 Wellingto, 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 and gossip column carried the feed about the progress this beau had managed to accomplish. I started following him that year on all socials because 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's 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 like. It lasted only 8 months before the news of Richard’s rakish reputation blazed like wildfire on the internet. 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 Richardtol Tol remains one of the most viral posts ever. It reaches 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 had approached 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 understatement." 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 gu, 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, Ix, 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 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 you?" I asked, unable to hide my astonishment. "Oh my God, Sofia Blake, what are you doing here?" She still looked the same as 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,e. My application for the position of a clerk was accepted, and I’m here for the interview.w" "Do you mean the same interview that was scheduled for fo10 am today? Come, 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 had lost them at home. I decided to come and find out for 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’y 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 every day, 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 anyway, ay, I hope we’ll talk about it later. Once again, thank you so much, Em.." "Go already! Good luck." 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. 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. "Lea, ve" 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 didn’ttt stutter. "What is wrong with this man?" I pondered. Is he 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 that 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 blonde 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 in 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 easily with him. So, damning the consequences, I grumbled, "Suit yourself. I’m not leaving, and if you will die sharing a ride with me, 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 st. " I replied, my voice laced with quiet rage. "JUST FUCKING LEAVE," he yelled, almost deafening my ears. OHO, how’re you angry, well so a I," I said as I punched the button with the number 50. Just before the elevator dinged shut, I made out a couple of 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.