CHAPTER 13
LILY
“God, I’m so excited. These turned out great!” Makima’s eyes glowed, surveying Renji’s character art printed in all its glory. I’d been sharing my idea with her the whole week and improvising on it. I couldn’t contain the blubber of excitement filling my blood.
“I’ll take these prints and present them to the executives and see what they think. But I’m sure they’re going to be impressed. Good work, Lily. I’ll keep you updated on the progress.” She smiled. “I have to go now.”
The happy grin never slipped from my face as I made my way back to the cabin.
“Oh, someone’s ecstatic,” Riana commented as she gave me a look before going back to her graph pad.
“Yes, I’m so happy.” I sighed happily, leaning back into my chair.
She raised a brow. “Are you done with the dating scene?”
“Kinda. Done with all the outlines. Just need to do the shading. ”
“That’s not fair,” she moaned. “How the hell do you get it done so fast? Look at me, I’m still stuck on adding the fillers, and it’s taking me ages.”
“You just need to practice. Trust me, all this will be a breeze for you one day. I remember the days I spent more than ten hours just to outline one panel.”
“I can never be dedicated like you. As much as I love doing this, I can’t do it all the time, you know. Also, you’ve missed two team dinners. What’s going on?”
I exhaled. “It’s not like I didn’t want to go. Mik…” I looked around. Though our office always had a quiet buzz, I didn’t want to risk someone overhearing me. I dropped my voice to a low whisper, “Mikey doesn’t want me to eat outside.”
She raised a brow. “Because of your anemia?”
I swallowed before the flash in my eyes gave away my lie. “Yeah.”
She swooned in her chair with giddy eyes. “The fact that a hot guy cooking for you should beat any greasy grill, Lily. You’re a lucky bitch.”
I rolled my eyes at her comment and got back to the task at hand. I was kinda a lucky bitch indeed because seeing a shirtless Mikey cook in the kitchen was the perfect wet dream.
Around late afternoon, I was finishing my work when a voice called out to me.
“Lily, a word in my office.” Mr. Jenson didn’t even wait for a reply before he walked off.
“Uh-oh, I swear that man has some fetish for bullying interns,” Riana muttered, staring at his disappearing back .
“He doesn’t really bully. He’s just… stern, I guess. Anyway, lemme go see what he’s on about now.” I lifted off from the chair and headed toward his office down the back.
I heard Riana call out a “good luck” from behind me.
“Mr. Jenson.” I entered his office, shutting the door. I didn’t dare sit—I learned my lesson the last time. A queasy energy swirled through my gut as I waited for what he had to say.
“Lily.” He looked up from the monitor screen, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “Take a seat,” he said with a grim look on his face.
I couldn’t stop the frown that wrinkled my forehead. Well, that was a first. What was this about?
He peered at me with pitied eyes before he pulled out the laptop that he kept on the side table and slid it toward me. “Did you do this?”
My chest tightened at the image of Renji on his screen. How the hell did he find out? But then he had to have been at the meeting, so it was eventually going to get out anyway.
I swallowed. “Yes, Mr. Jenson.”
“Ah, Lily.” He whipped his glasses away and pressed a finger between his brows. “What did you do?” The tone in his voice suggested sadness more than accusation.
Confusion streamed through my veins. Where was he going with this? Wasn’t he going to tell me what a bad job I’d done?
“I don’t understand, Mr. Jenson.”
He sighed, his gaze softening. “Of course, you don’t. Here, listen to this.” He pressed a button on his phone, and a conversation filled the air. It sounded like a voice recording. “This is from the meeting today,” he mumbled as it played on.
“So good to meet you, Haji.” What sounded like Makima’s voice filtered through.
“Likewise, I see you’ve held the fort down here pretty well,” a thick hoarse voice said. I assumed it was Haji, the executive from the Japan office.
A few minutes of conversation about the overall project were exchanged, reports, progress, and whatnot. Hearing more of this only made my confusion deepen. What the hell was Jenson trying to tell me?
“So, about the light novel, you said you have a character ready?” Haji asked .
My calm pulse picked up a notch.
“Yes, so excited to share it with you. I’ve printed them out.”
Silence ensued, followed by the rustle of papers.
“You’ve done an exceptional job, Makima. This is better than I ever imagined. Let’s get started on this right away. This novel has been hitting the charts recently, and the studio wants to get this out as soon as they possibly can.”
“Of course, I knew you would love it. Honestly, it was so hard to crack. I worked on this day and night straight. I’m hoping for a promotion if this takes off.” Makima laughed.
Mr. Jenson paused the recording.
It was too late to stop the burn behind my eyes and the swell in my throat. What does she mean that she made it? I worked day and night on it, sleepless and exhausted.
She was taking credit for my hard work.
How could she do that ?
“I’m sorry, Lily. I’ve been trying to warn you, but it seemed she had already gotten a hold on you.”
I locked my gaze with his worried eyes. “I don’t understand, Mr. Jenson. What’s happening?”
“She does this a lot. Steal other people’s work. Ten years ago, she and I interned in Japan together. She was a decent artist. Nothing exceptional, but still good. But then one day she came in and handed off her project, and everyone’s jaw dropped. They were praising her and applauding her, but it only got me confused because I worked by her side and knew she could never do that.” Mr. Jenson sighed. “Turns out she bullied another intern. The girl quit and never returned. And I could never prove that she did it.”
“But that’s wrong. Didn’t anyone find out?”
He shook his head, dejected. “No, after that, Makima took off. She was on everyone’s good side and got to a position where no one could question her. I knew from the moment I saw your work she was going to play her game. I couldn’t actually warn you without proof, so I tried to be stern with my team, especially to you, hoping you would make a few silly mistakes, enough for her to lose her sights on you. But you only did better, Lily.”
All this time, I’d thought that Mr. Jenson was the villain, but it turned out he was actually trying to protect us.
The true villain was the one with the saccharine plastic smile.
It all made sense now—why she didn’t want any emails sent to her. She didn’t want any trace left behind. Every update I sent was to her personal phone. It should be easy for her to make it seem like she was working on this the whole time.
“I don’t know what to say,” I mumbled quietly.
“I just hope you keep your head down and focus on your work. I’ve been trying to get her to slip up and gather some evidence, but I’ve had no luck so far. She’s too good and in a higher position than me, Lily. There’s not much I can do about it.”
“I understand. Thank you for letting me know. If you hadn’t, I’m not sure how long she would’ve strung me along like this. I hope she gets caught before this happens to someone else.” A small smile lifted my lips. “But I don’t think I can work here anymore, Mr. Jenson. I just…” I inhaled deeply. “I just can’t.” It felt like all my passion and my hard work were stolen from me. It only dimmed the flame that burned the desire to do my art. I didn’t want to stay here another second and be worked like a clown under her thumb.
My art would always be with me no matter what. It was the fuel that kept me alive. I just didn’t want to do that here anymore.
Mr. Jenson’s sad eyes met mine. “I understand, kid. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”
I nodded a thanks as I exited.
A burning rage cracked up my nerves, and I didn’t stop until I barged into her office.
What the fuck did I have to lose anyway?
Her cotton-candy-streaked hair was bent low, peering at probably some stolen art.
I cleared my throat .
Cold brown eyes snapped in my direction, and the lift of her brows added to her confusion. “Lily, what are you doing?”
“I know what you’ve been doing,” I steeled, the anger rising in my blood.
“What?” she muttered, slouching back against her chair.
“Was this your plan all along? To steal my work and take credit for it as yours? It was never to give me the credit, was it?”
“Ah, that’s what’s got you on a pickle.” Her lips thinned in annoyance. “Stupid Jenson. But yes, this is all a part of being in the industry, Lily. You shouldn’t take it too seriously. You’ll get your time to prove yourself, and then you can do anything.”
My teeth rattled in a clench, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to knock the smug look right off her face. “How dare you, Makima? You know how hard I fucking worked on it. A simple credit to the artist won’t make you a smaller person, but stealing it does.”
She flicked her brow. “You’ll stop right there, Lily. You are in no position to talk back to me.”
“Well, fuck you, Makima, because I quit.”
“Great, Lily!” She clapped, her eyes widening in excitement. “You know where the door is. Also, I’m sure you won’t let your friends know about this if they want to keep this job. Now, go on and shut the door on your way out.”
I can’t believe I fell for the act of this crazy lunatic. I didn’t even cast her a second glance as I stormed out of her office, heading straight to my desk .
I didn’t waste another second as I packed my things, my focus tunnel-visioned to get the fuck out of this place.
“Hey, you okay?” A soft hand grabbed hold of my shoulder.
I froze, turning back to meet Riana’s worried eyes. “I quit.”
“What?” she shrieked, placing her coffee on the table and bringing her full attention to me. “Is it Jenson? I swear if he did anything to hurt you…”
“Riana.” I stopped her, mustering a smile. “It’s not him. In fact, he’s actually the nice one. But my leaving doesn’t have anything to do with it, okay? It’s a long story, and I just don’t have it in me to tell you right now. I just want to leave this place.”
Her worried eyes deepened. “Okay. But promise you’ll call me. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I hope everything is okay.”
“I hope so too,” I muttered, giving her a tight hug as I rushed out of the office.
It was still early, so Mikey wouldn’t be here for another hour. I decided to call a cab as I waited outside, but the rush hour in NYC was raging hard. Every Uber was thirty minutes away, and I couldn’t spot one yellow cab in sight.
Giving up, I dialed his number. A moment of hesitation swam in my mind before I pressed call.
“Lily, what’s wrong?” he asked right after the first beep.
“Umm.” My throat clogged for some reason. “Can you come pick me up? It’s okay if you’re busy. I can wait,” I said quietly.
“Leaving now. ”
“Okay, I’m outside.”
I willed myself to relax from the rising tension and hurt swaddling my heart. My eyes drifted past the people loitering in the lobby. When I arrived this morning, elated and hopeful, I never imagined that be walking out of here forever. Never to come back.
The studio I had dreamed of being a part of since I was a girl now vanished and was robbed in mere seconds.
“Lily,” whispered a soft voice before a warm hand cradled my cheek. “You okay?” A furrow formed between Mikey’s brows.
I was so deep down in my musing that I didn’t realize he was here.
“Yes,” I mumbled as he took away my heavy satchel, a lot heavier than usual, as he led me to his car.
“You want to tell me why you’ve got a sad frown plastered over your face, and who would I have to run over with my car?” A playful grin tugged the corner of his lips.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that spurted out of my mouth. “No one,” I whispered.
He exhaled loudly, the playfulness fading. “Fine, let’s get you home,” he said, shifting his eyes back to the road as we drove off.
My head hit the window, and through my side-eye, I watched the blurring city speed by.
A sudden thought shot up my mind, and my eyes dashed to him. “Mikey, can you take me to Coney Island?”
“Whoa.” He looked taken aback, shaking his head as his eyes landed on me. “Coney Island?”
“Yes, I’ve never been, and I’ve always wanted to go. ”
The grin that he gave just about stopped my heart altogether. I might as well have needed CPR. “Orders received. One trip to Coney Island coming right up.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I brought my gaze back to the blurring window. Though the whole way there, I couldn’t stop the smile dancing on my lips.
A gentle breeze swayed my violet wisps over my face. It wasn’t a clear, bright day, but it also wasn’t dull and gloomy, unlike my mood. Fluffy white clouds hid the clear sky, but the sun streamed a few shots of light through them.
“Here you go.” Mikey handed me a steaming hot funnel cake sprinkled with snowy powdered sugar.
“Thank you.” I smiled gratefully. The roof of my mouth immediately regretted my impatient bite.
“Slow down.” Mikey chuckled, handing me a bottle of water as he eased in beside me while his arm draped over me like a warm hug.
Moments of quiet passed as we gazed at the blue of the ocean crashing into a foam on the sandy shore, so methodical that it was hypnotizing, almost like you could get lost watching it forever.
What an unusual way to end my day. Here I was, sitting on a bench in Coney Island.
An unplanned occasion striked another wish off my list.
It was a dumb wish.
“You know I thought going to Coney Island would be the coolest thing a girl could ever do, at least when I was a stupid teenager.” My voice drifted through the salty wind .
“Really? The only thing you liked to do was swim, watch anime, and have your head buried in some notepad. And you weren’t a stupid teenager.” He gave me a pointed look.
“It was because I was never the cool kid. I was the cool kid’s sister—the quiet, lonely girl who always wore black—and Coney Island felt like a place where all the cool girls would go, wearing Daisy Dukes and rose-colored glasses, and kissing their boyfriends. You name it.” I waved a hand, shaking my head. “I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”
Mikey burst out in a heavy rumble of laughter as his greens found mine. “That’s so weird and random.”
“Don’t I know that?”
His arms gathered me closer. “But I know that’s not the real reason we are here.”
I tilted my head, my eyes sweeping over his face. “I quit the internship.”
Confusion creased the corners of his eyes. “Why? I thought you loved working there.”
I huffed a heavy breath. “Remember Makima? The person who assigned me the fancy project that I spent every waking hour trying to nail down to perfection. The person I deemed a celebrity anime artist?”
“Yeah, your boss, right?”
“Yep, turns out she’s not really a great artist. She’s been stealing other people’s work and putting her name on it for years, and her latest victim was me. Everything that I did is now hers. She stole it all.”
“The fuck! She can’t do that. I mean, there’s proof that you did it. ”
“Technically, yes. But it’s all hand-drawn. No system registered that I did it. I even sent the updates to her personal phone, and it’s quite easy for her to copy them into her work pad so the date would be noted in hers. She made sure she left no crumbs behind. And I fell for it all like a stupid girl.”
“Can you give me her address? I have got the weird urge to go and slash her tires. Maybe even drill a few nails on her windows.”
“Mikey.” My lips blubbered into a laugh, but it didn’t last long as heated trickles of tears spilled out of my glassy eyes.
“Fuck, little mouse. Please don’t tell me you’re crying because of some bitch.” He wiped away the flowing wetness down my cheeks with his calloused fingers.
“I just…” I hiccuped through my thick, burning throat. “I just wanted my name out there, Mikey.” I gazed at his softening eyes that had a glint in them that resonated more like simmering fury. “Wanted my name on something, you know. Lily Jameson on character design or for my name to roll out on the end credits of an anime. Something. Like proof that I was once an artist.” I sniffled, rubbing my nose with the back of my hand.
He frowned. “Once an artist? You’re still one, Lily. You have all the time in the world to get your name out there. Hell, you’re just starting out, and your talent is too big not to make it.”
I stiffened, noting my slip, but he didn’t seem to catch it.
“Trust me, your name will one day be plastered as the greatest animator known in history.” He offered me a warm smile, wiping the remnants of my tears .
“That’s reaching a bit too far.” I sighed, averting my gaze to the dusk-glittered waters and back to his intent eyes. “I do have all the time in the world.” My words carried like a dead weight in deep waters. It hurt, the falsity of that statement. I didn’t have all the time in the world. In fact, I didn’t have any for my name to be plastered anywhere but a hospital tag.
“Yes, you do. So stop crying.”
“I can’t.” I sniffled, masking a sob. “I can’t stop.” My eyes locked on his greens. “Make me.” I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. “Make me stop. Kiss me, Michael.” My voice toned a ghostly whisper, a whisper of years of hidden yearning.
A sharp inhale lodged his nose. “Lily, we can’t,” he said hoarsely.
“Please,” I said, so close that our lips were barely an inch away.
He didn’t waste another second before his lips landed on mine. Softly. Oh so, softly.
He tasted like powdered sugar, sweet and sinful at the same time. Like he was always supposed to kiss me, and me alone.
My fingers threaded through his velvety roots while he gripped my waist, bringing me closer, so close that the tips of my hard nipples brushed his hoodie.
Our tongues locked and swirled almost as if it were a familiar dance, dripping down to my core. And we kissed exactly like that for minutes, hours, I don’t know.
No rush, like our kiss was all that was important at this moment .
A gust of wind stroked our faces when we came up for air. His pupils were dark, and my breathing was hard like I’d just run a marathon.
Another breeze slashed our faces seconds later, and he darted his eyes away.
“We have to go,” he mumbled, dropping his hands as he shot to his feet. “Come on,” he said, turning his back on me. He didn’t wait for an answer as he stormed through the boardwalk.
And I knew that I’d already lost him.
And he was going to pretend the kiss didn’t even happen.
“Thanks for taking me to Coney Island,” I said, biting my lip as we stood right outside my apartment door.
I suffered through the entire car ride in complete silence. He never once looked at me or tried to talk. He drove the whole way with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. This version of Mikey scared me. It was unknown, unlike the quiet boy or the playful idiot I was familiar with. And I didn’t want to explore rough waters today.
“I’ve put the pasta bake in the fridge for you. Heat it for dinner.” His eyes held mine for a second before he bolted to his apartment and slammed the door in my face.
A painful breath escaped me.
The last thing I wanted to come out of his mouth after that kiss was pasta bake.
I guess that was all I was getting at the moment .
That night, I lay awake. Sleep was the last thing on my mind because a million thoughts were running through my mind. I was never one to think too much, but apparently, that was different today. Everything that unfolded today was unexpected.
A sudden haunting melody leaked into my ears. I recognized that sound immediately, and the music sent sparks to my heart.
It was Mikey playing the bass.
The low-pitched rhythm carried through the thin walls, the pulse of it was steady yet delivered like the sharp blows of an unrestrained fighter. It was agitated and angry.
It was like he said the things he couldn’t say out loud through his music.
Michael wielded the bass like he was born to do it.
And it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I knew because I’d been gawking at him for years, especially when he was on stage.
I recall it like it was yesterday, I was around ten when my uncle Stephen brought his old bass guitar sitting around in his garage. He wasn’t great at it, but he played a few chords. And Michael, almost transfixed, headed over and fiddled with the guitar for a few minutes before a riff of a melody filled the room. To say we all were shocked was an understatement.
When asked how the hell he did it, Mikey shrugged, saying that it had just come to him.
Uncle Stephen called it inherent talent. He said that some people had the inborn ability to play like that. He said it was very rare but possible .
And Michael was rare.
He was a misunderstood soul with a huge heart.
He was my best friend.
Until he wasn’t.
I still don’t know how it happened; one day, we were fine, and the next, he was drifting away from me. It started with small excuses here and there, but then there wasn’t even an excuse.
He was just gone.
We still talked, but we talked like strangers.
Then that night, I knew I truly lost him.
I wasn’t going to hold on to the hope that he would return to me.
That night, it hit me hard in the face that Michael would never be mine.
I gave up on him that night. Whatever love I had for him brewed into hate.
And for these past eight years, we barely spoke a few words.
And now, with him creeping his way into my radius, being there for me and caring like he used to, he brought me right back to that girl ballooned with hope.
I jumped out of my bed, throwing my sheets aside as I dashed out.
Ready to ask that one question that has been locked in my mind forever.
Why?
The haunting quality of the sound grew louder and louder when I burst out of my front door.
A moment of pause .
A moment of cowardice.
Before my hand drummed on his front door.
The music didn’t stop.
It rattled louder, and it halted.
The last reverb of the note hung in the air.
The thunder of his footsteps matched the beat in my heart.
Closer and closer and closer.
A slight breeze of air wafted my face as the door trudged open.
My breath caught at the sight.
Every emotion of his music displayed deep in his eyes, haunting and agitated.
He held me in his unwavering gaze. “Lily, what’s wrong?” His voice wasn’t one of concern, it was full of restlessness.
“Why?”
A slight tilt of his head. “Why what?”
His eyes traced over the single tear that spilled out of my eye. “Why did you stop being my friend? You promised you’d always be my friend, Michael.” My voice cracked.
“Lily.” His eyes darted from the cascading tears to my glimmering ones.
“Why, Michael? I’m tired of not knowing. We used to tell each other everything, so please tell me, why did it all stop?”
He didn’t say a word, but his eyes dove into the depths of my soul.
The look in them terrified me.
Not of him, but for him.
Why?