Muse [18+] • REVISING

05 | Wide Eyed Fool

V E R A

━━━━━━━━━━

The second those words left my mouth, I instantly regretted it. Despite how bothered his claims had made me, I knew better than to put my feelings before my job. Not to mention, a job I had traveled four-thousand miles away from home for. The only thing I was feeling right now was stupid.

If anyone else were in this cafe with us, they'd feel how enraged the man sitting in front of me was. The director I had met yesterday that easily held a poker face was nowhere to be found. The current look on his face was enough to make you run for the hills—rage sat in his eyes and caused every part of him to tense up. From his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw to his closed fists, causing his knuckles to turn white, anyone could see that he was pissed off. That I was the one that caused this.

Expecting him to say something back, possibly fire me on the spot, he shot up from his seat and headed towards the cafe doors.

"Mr. Dupont—" I stood up, in an attempt to stop him from walking out.

"Go home." He said, pushing one of the doors open.

"Wait, are you firing me? I'm sorry, sir, I—" I tried, taking my bag from the corner of the chair and walking towards him. I raised my hand to touch his shoulder to try and get him to turn around.

"I said go home, Vera." He commanded, his voice laced with animosity. Turning around to face me, his body radiated heat onto mine as the only space between us was a mere few inches. A chill ran down my spine.

"Listen for once." He finished, turning back around and walking out the door.

Trying to collect myself, I let out a long breath I had been holding in ever since I suggested that Mr. Dupont had indulged in extra curricular activities. Pushing my hair behind my ears, I looked up to see both Cordelia and Nicolas standing in the middle of the main lobby, staring right at me.

Choosing to dismiss their concerned looks, I walked out of the cafe and headed for the entrance doors.

"Wait—Vera, where are you going?" Cordelia called, walking up to me. "What happened?"

"He told me to leave. I don't know if that means I'm fired or what, but I guess I'm going home." I explained, pushing open the door.

"He wouldn't do that—"

"Well, he's pretty angry with me right now so I wouldn't put it past him. I didn't even mean to make him upset, he just kept pushing me," I continued. "And so I brought up some things I shouldn't have. Anyway, I have to go."

"This isn't like him. I promise you that he wouldn't fire you over this. Go home and I'll call you after I talk to him, okay?" She reassured, the corners of her mouth tugged upwards.

I nodded and walked out of the building. Practically running down the steps, I called for a cab and headed back home. Looking down at the screen of my phone, the time read 10:47am. Yesterday, I was late and today, I was kicked out within an hour.

Welcome to fucking Paris.

❦

Throwing myself onto my bed, I screamed into my pillow. Replaying the conversation I had with Mr. Dupont, the regret I felt for talking back began to fade and was replaced with anger.

All I could think to myself was: How exactly was I expected to respond to him telling me how to feel? Was I supposed to just shut up and let him explain my own feelings to me? Say yes sir, I understand and let it go?