FIRST CAME YOUR EYES

MASK ON

"Naomi?"

"I'm here," Naomi yelled.

"Oh, my, I can't handle these masks anymore. Inhaling my carbon dioxide is giving me gases. My stomach is mad-bloated like floaties, and I keep burping for no reason. My belly was so flat during confinement I could fart all I want in the peace of my apartment," JB said as she went down the basement stairs. As always, she cared not who heard her rant.

"Naomi, did you hear mㅡayay," JB stopped on the spot.

Naomi was there, but she wasn't alone. A tall man stood beside her. He had a mask on, but JB could see his eyes curve as the sheet stretched to welcome his smile. There was no need to be a rocket scientist to understand what provoked his reaction. Once again, JB's mouth gave her an embarrassment-freebie. Still, she stepped up, "good morning."

"JB, this is Nassim, the new maintenance monitor."

JB's lashes slapped her cheeks as she blinked in dismay, "where's Juan Carlos?"

"I'm replacing him. He left for Majorca after the first confinement. They had a hard time finding someone to take care of your site with the Covid spread, but I'm here now. You should have gotten an email concerning this visit."

Nassim's voice wasn't loud. It was odd how the slender men JB met had deep voices, whereas the others, whether body-built or in playdough mode, spoke with either a high-pitched or monotonous tone. The maintenance guy was rather soft-spoken for his build, and JB had to lean in to listen. He had a long sleeve jacket, but the way the fabric plastered his body hinted at a muscled base.

JB looked straight at him, and Nassim immediately averted her gaze to look beyond her head.

"I was telling your colleague here,ㅡ that I need to check the fire alarm, the extinguishers, and the lighting."

"Okay, good," JB replied and took off her bomber jacket. She had a thick turquoise hoodie that matched the color of her sew-in and nails. Her lashes flickered like a moth to a flame at every sentence. Her compass-drawn-like-arched brows rose to inquire every two. Nassim wondered why JB even wore makeup with a mask. She was the only woman baked like a cupcake with its icing on the half of her face he could see; yet again, most of the staff were caucasian; hence the glow-up appeared less flagrant.

Many women stopped wearing makeup during the first confinement, and the trend gained traction during the second. Even Nassim's sisters, who had the habit of slaying their foyer's budget at Sephora, took a break. It seemed no one alerted JB, who had her eyes giving off a lynx and prepped for a Met Gala photocall.

The man didn't know what to think or interpret her contoured efforts. He figured she wished to reel in attention even if he was sure she would reply it was for herself. JB's stare was so intense that it almost came off as intimidation. Thus, Nassim tried to gaze anywhere else than at her face. Juan had wished him good luck, but Karim, a plumber who was called in once for a leak, warned him.

"Don't look at them. Those women are genies. Make a wish, and you'll get trapped in their bottles. Just do your job and get out," he advised.

One would think Karim had to repair something in a strip club, but all it was was a store of a well-known branch. The products were expensive, but what caught one's eye when there and probably pushed thousands to buy for thousands was the staff. This site happened to be the only one with an all-female team.

"One could lose their soul," Karim said. Of course, this was before the restrictions began and in summer. For Nassim, it was his first time in the store. All he saw were stylish and well-groomed women and their stares. Some were void; others were tagged with the dark circles of a sleepless night, while JB's brown eyes gleamed like her poreless forehead.