3. Chapter 3
LONDYN
MY CUBICLE IS A SANCTUARY, at least in this part of Manhattan, which runs on hustle and greed.
Outside, the world might be a terrifying place and filled with too many 'what ifs,' but in here, I'm safe and secure.
I've arranged my desk so my back is against two walls, giving me a clear view to both entrances to the office space.
I can track who comes and goes without being obvious.
And the entire office building has plenty of cameras and security guards.
It's a fortress. The security guard downstairs actually checks IDs. The lobby elevator needs a keycard. There are cameras in every corner. And I like that there's always someone there, behind the lens, watching over me.
Though not that many people come and go on my floor. The office building itself is a busy place, but my employer's floor is usually pretty empty. I only see about five coworkers at a time, along with my pretentious boss, who always walks like she has bunions.
We're only mandated to come into the office twice a month, so I could actually work from home most of the time.
I could hide away in my apartment until I become pale enough to qualify as a vampire.
But I feel safer here, even if travelling between Lower Manhattan and Upper Manhattan, where I live, causes my adrenaline to spike.
A massive yawn makes my eyes water and my arms shake as I pull up an invoice on my computer screen.
I need to double check some numbers I entered yesterday before sending everything to my boss, Stacy.
I'm an assistant bookkeeper, so I mostly just check figures, process invoices, and do reports.
Exciting stuff. But as I try to reconcile the quarterly food costs for Romano's Restaurant—their produce invoices never seem to match their delivery receipts, which is a headache every month—my brain decides it's a good time to go rogue, turning down one of its many winding paths.
My brain connects 'work from yesterday' to 'yesterday morning' to 'yesterday morning when that bald man was watching me. '
Next, as if I've lost all control of my body, I start trembling and my blood pressure jumps and it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest. That's how this usually goes: winding thoughts, panic, flashbacks. Followed by a tsunami of other emotions.
I need to disrupt the cycle. Sometimes math helps, so I grab a pen and notepad to do some old-school calculations. It's funny because I absolutely hated math in high school. I was always the geeky theater kid. Now, numbers are my salvation from all the mental noise.
Okay. Three hundred and sixty five plus…
That bald guy from yesterday. Moving with purpose.
Sixty five. Sixty five plus fourteen. That's, um…
His eyes were dark. Soulless.
Watching me.
Seventy-nine. Three hundred seventy-nine is the total.
The Director used to watch me like that.
The Director wanted to possess me. To make me his play thing while he…
Three hundred and sixty five plus fourteen is three hundred seventy-nine.
I write the number on a yellow sticky note. Then I write it again and circle it. Then I subtract two hundred and eighteen. The total is now 161.
One director.
Six days he decided to…
One man watching me yesterday.
I set my pen down and pinch my lips, as if that will stop me from crying. It's been a while, thankfully, since I've felt triggered like this, but my mind is seizing the opportunity to do these stupid mental gymnastics. Whatever it takes to bring the memories back, because brains are masochistic.
I'm hidden away from the world in my little white cubicle, so I give myself permission to fall apart.
Stacy, my boss, has her office door closed.
Besides her, there are two other coworkers here today: Josh and Maria.
Josh has his headphones on and Maria is talking on the phone.
They're both distracted and won't hear my whimpers and hiccups.
During moments like these, a rift breaks the world apart, and my old self is stuck on the other side. She wasn't perfect by any means, but she was beautifully innocent. Untouched by the world's darkness. I miss her.
When I'm done expelling the anguish and the bits of fear stuck in my body, I wipe my cheeks and glance up at the security camera near the east wall. The blinking red light next to the lens is like a guardian angel, the only time I don't mind being watched or noticed.
The duality isn't lost on me: I don't like being watched, but I also do. In my life Before, I spent so many years performing for others, on stage and behind a camera. I loved the camera. I adored the audience. And I think they both loved me.
In my life After, I'd rather not be noticed by anyone, especially men. I don't think a performer's spirit ever dies, so part of me still craves it. But I'll never act again, never be in the spotlight.
My life depends on it.
Still… I like the security cameras and the people behind them. That's the one exception to my aversion.
As I'm blowing my nose into a tissue, a DM pops up on my personal laptop, the one I keep open next to my work monitor. It's from Raven, and my heartbeat settles from seeing her name.
We met three years ago on a random comment thread.
All my social media profiles are private and I rarely leave comments.
But there was a post about a kitten and dog snuggling together, so I could resist just saying 'Adorable!
' Raven responded with: ADORABLE is right!
Honestly, this is the kind of thing that restores my wonder.
That night, I'd been hit with a wave of loneliness and craved just a little friendly interaction.
I vetted her profile, skimming through her posts and comments.
Once I determined she was just a fun 20-something woman enjoying her life, I responded: I know what you mean.
There's something so pure about animals.
Your photos from Australia look amazing, by the way!
We kept chatting in the comments until I finally DM'ed her. I was cautious at first, taking it slow, but she was so warm and friendly that I was able to open up more and more over the months until we developed a wonderful friendship.
Honestly, I don't know where my mental health might be without her.
I glance at the time; it's almost four. She's probably just waking up in Melbourne, ready to start her day as mine approaches its end. The time difference works for us because she's always there when I need her most, which is in the evenings.
RavenMad: Morning, Lonny! Or evening. How're you, love?
I smile, my fingers moving to the keyboard. Raven doesn't know who I was in the past. She just knows me as I am now—a bit reserved, tons of paranoid, mostly okay with living my simple existence as a ghost.
Though lately, I've been feeling the pressure of my 'aloneness' and considering a few changes.
Londyn83: Hello to you too. I'm… eh. How are you?
RavenMad: And what is eh? I'm great. Drinking a cuppa by the beach. Went for a super early run and now I'm tired haha
Londyn83: I love the beach. Send pics?
Almost immediately, pictures flood the screen.
I study each one with the hunger of someone starved for beauty and normalcy.
The first shows turquoise waves lapping at golden sand, morning sun casting long shadows across the beach.
The second is a selfie with Raven's wild curls catching the breeze, her freckled face beaming at the camera, coffee cup raised in a toast. Her mouth even looks like it's forming the words 'cheers, mate. '
She's completely obsessed with social media and shares several posts throughout the day like it's her job. She wishes it was her job, but she actually works as a server.
RavenMad: The water's gorgeous. Think I saw a dolphin!
I trace my finger across the screen, feeling a pang of something between envy and longing.
Her freedom is breathtaking. No fear of being out in the open with very few people around.
No worries about posting so much about her life.
No mental restraints keeping her from doing things she loves. Just... living.
Londyn83: Super gorgeous. You're living a dream. Save some happiness for the rest of us mortals.
RavenMad: Ha! I'll trade places. Your city's a ripper while mine's a tourist trap.
Londyn83: But you've got SPACE. And sunshine. And apparently, dolphin bodyguards.
RavenMad: They're rubbish bodyguards. Keep swimming off when I need them.
I smile, picturing her sitting there with sand between her toes, completely at ease in her skin. Raven's ability to take up space so confidently in the world is beautiful. She's the opposite of a wallflower. More like an entire garden demanding to be noticed.
I used to be that way, back when I was ignorant to the way the world operates.
RavenMad: Anyway, you're dodging. Why are you "eh"? And don't say you're fine! I can read your ehs from across the planet.
My hands hover over the keyboard. Raven has this uncanny ability to sense when I'm holding back. It's pointless to deflect because she'll just keep circling back until I cave in and spill my guts. She's relentless that way, but it's one of the things I love about her.
Londyn83: Oh, just the typical, everyday paranoia. Had an incident yesterday morning.
RavenMad: What kind of incident? Are you okay?
I glance around my nearly empty office space.
Josh stands to stretch his back and adjust his Star Wars tie, which is filled with tiny Yodas.
He catches my gaze and gives me a goofy grin.
He's been working here for five months and hasn't yet given up on being friendly with me, unlike my other coworkers.
He seems nice but I don't smile back. I sink lower behind my cubicle wall.