#c:divya

[olivier--fontaine]

flashback: saturday, february 13th, 1999

Helena wanted to go to dinner the next day. Olivier wasn’t quite sure they were there yet, to be going out on a holiday meant to be dedicated to love and commitment. They were sixteen. Commitment was a foreign concept, and it was Helena who’d told him that.

So as any confused sixteen year old would do, he snuck into a bar in Kentish Town with a football friend whose cousin was the bartender there. They drank beers from various sketchy shops the very long walk there and were swallowing back burps as they tried to blend in with the crowd. Some other friends were on their way, not that Olivier really needed a lot of people around to have a good time. He was already buzzed and having a blast, stealing fruit occasionally from the bartender. 

He gobbled up part of an orange slice as he spun back away from the bar, nearly colliding with a girl there. “The chef’s a bit...lacking,” he joked through a partially full mouth.

@divyakoshal

[feather-farrah-blog]

Farrah had been dreading this moment since she woke up this morning. For twenty minutes before the alarm went off she contemplated dramatic ways to absolve herself from the meeting with Divya: illness, injury, perhaps even death? She could always quit her job, of course, but she was sure that in giving up on Wardlaw a second time that Divya would really come for her blood (nor did she think she could live with guilt like that).

This was not an attitude that was conducive to being productive with one’s co-workers, but Farrah couldn’t help but work herself into a fretting mess every time a notice from Divya was left for her. Procrastination clouded her as she sat listless in her office, wasting the minutes between the present and when she knew that Divya was going to arrive to her office for the morning.

Standing demure with a folder of records and the room arrangements post-Dumfries merger, Farrah knocked weakly on the door to Divya’s domain that was partially cracked open.

“Um, hi,” she mustered in a quiet voice. “You wanted to speak with me, Miss?”