“Until further notice, employees will be expected to work twelve-hour days to increase productivity and creativity.”
“Will we receive a pay raise?” someone in the back pipes up.
Rowan’s blank stare sends a chill down my spine. “Am I supposed to reward you all for being average?”
Oh my freaking God. Did he really say that?
Rowan’s frustration, although slightly understandable, isn’t justified. The Creators aren’t used to coming up with ideas at such a fast pace. To present every Friday on a new concept is tough. I’m even struggling, not that I’ll admit it to anyone.
“Raises are earned, not given.” Rowan leaves the conference room without a goodbye.
We all sink into our chairs.
Jenny clears her throat. “So that was a lot to unwrap. Are there any questions?”
One person groans and I raise a mental fist in solidarity.
18
Rowan
After ruining Zahra’s team meeting, I did the same to Sam’s Alpha team. I don’t have the luxury of wasting time on subpar ideas and missed opportunities.
Yet you have time to waste on drawing.
Drawing invigorates me in a way I haven’t experienced before—like I can shut off the world and the demands placed on me for an hour. I’m not stupid enough to believe this could be a long-term activity for me. It’s only a means to an end.
I drop onto my bed and grab my phone off my nightstand. I’ve been avoiding Zahra since she sent her message about me hiding behind a screen. It pissed me off more than I cared to admit earlier. I don’t hide behind anything, least of all a stupid piece of glass. I’m merely observing.
Me: I’m not hiding behind a screen because I’m scared.
She doesn’t respond right away like usual. I add Zahra’s streaming account to my smart TV. If only she knew who helped produce her favorite duke show.
I choose a random show to pass the time. One episode turns into three, and before I know it, Zahra still hasn’t texted me back.
Me: Is Rowan keeping you up all night?
I wince when I reread my message, realizing how it sounds.
I expect some awkwardness on her end but my comment earns me a laughing GIF.
Zahra: No. But I was busy working on a new idea!
Great. That’s exactly what I need from her. Just maybe not at midnight when she should be sleeping.
Isn’t this what you expect? You’re the one who added four hours on to an eight-hour workday because you were pissed off.
Zahra: Why? Did you miss me?
My response is instantaneous.
Me: No.
Zahra: Damn.
Zahra: Do you even have a heart?
Me: I don’t suffer from that kind of affliction.
Zahra: Who hurt you?
Her question is meant to be a joke, but it sends a rush of bad memories to the surface. I grip my phone in a chokehold. It takes me five whole minutes to recover and think up a response vague enough to suffice.
Me: Who else?
Zahra: A sucky ex-lover?
Me: Speaking from experience?
The question leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. I never considered Zahra having a lover before, but the idea makes me want to chuck my phone across the room.
The idea of her being with someone else…it’s unsettling. Like the way someone feels right before a roller coaster drops.