Keeping Faye ||UNDER MAJOR EDITING||

CHAPTER 8

||Oh no! Not Again!||

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'Small changes are not so bad.'
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Two weeks.

Two weeks passed and I'm at the tip of my sanity. I'd rather jump in Grand Canyon than sit in front of my laptop, writing or television set. Everyday, I ran on my treadmill for one hour then ate a healthy breakfast. Exercise was a least of my priority when I'm working, so perhaps my suspension was put to good use.

San-San: Morning, how are you , Faye?...' Sandra's sleepy voice greeted my ears. Its 6:00 am in the morning running on the treadmill. I smiled, picking a cold bottle of water to squinch my thirst. Phone's speaker on.

"Hey,"

*San-San: How's your vacation?'

My nose quirked. I'm still sore for that topic whenever she asked me about it. Sandra questioned me about my 'disapperance incident' but I kept my mouth shut. Our officemates were not different when they bombarded me questions and hurtful messages in social media.

Leaning on the wall, I answered, "I'm great. How's the office?" I stopped checking my social accounts for days now.

San-San: "Its not same without you. I miss our lunch together... Oh, Grace occupied your office now temporarily."

I closed my eyes. Grace Sanchez was my tight competitor for the next promotion. Mr. Ferrer indorsed me for the position after the last employer retirement but Grace was adamant in taking the position herself. A smart woman with good family background, but people around her are always weary because of her bipolar attitude.

"Its temporary, right? You're still working here?" There's a hesitation in her voice.

"Yes." I affirmed.

That is if they still hired me.

"So... how's your writing? Your last chapter is awesome! I think Jimmie is me,"

I laughed. Jimmie. Its my fictional character tailored from San's quirkiness. Everyday, I sent her a chapter for a critic. Though, Sandra was not a writer, her points as a reader still counts. After our morning talk, I resumed to my manuscript; arranging, taking notes and editing a few chapters. I missed this. Everything about writing and brainstorming came back to my senses. I opened my oldest files of manuscripts, a framed first chapter of my first published book.

Nostalgic.

The hectic schedules and deadlines because you bagged a contract of publishing book company was magic in my memory.

Days passed, I was so emerged in my writing that I forgot its already three weeks of my suspension and my rent was due. Food supply were already low so I just settled in my junk food and soda stock. Unhealthy but I have no right to complain!

Sandra became my little savior when she brought pasta or vegetable soup every friday night-her own money. Better than nothing to stomach, I swallowed her tasteless cooking while sharing things about Eric- except my intimate encounter with my ex-fiance.

"That's it? You never had a relationship with that guy?"

Lie.

"Yeah, he's just an acquaintance from college." I shrugged.

○●○

(Monday)

My bills rose to the ceiling. I slumped to my sofa, wearing only a robe. It became my favorite attire for this entire duration of suspension.

Three days and I would be a street person. I only rented my unit. Its price was a bit for high class apartment or suite and I kinda regretted choosing it. Back then, I was mesmerized how sleek it was and the idea of living on it pushed me to rent it, price aside.

My rent due was two days ago, and my failure to pay was now a notice left to my door step.

Perhaps people would ask me if where all my savings went in working a high paying job? Well, I put it to investment and bonds in the company and time deposit. My money were all freeze.

Nice!

There was nothing I can do. So, I packed my bags and piled my books and manuscripts like a big girl. I left still wearing my robe, hair in messy bun while pulling behind my stuff. I went to Sandra's suit since we're in the same complex area.

I rung her door but no one answered. I pressed a few times but nothing.

"Miss?"

I whipped to the voice from my back. I saw a middle-aged woman with a toddler in her arms.

"Uh, I'm looking for Sandra Ching? She live here," I pointed to the door.

"Yes, I know her. Actually she left two days ago. Its emergency? I kinda heard,"

"Oh,"

Huh? She didn't called me. Of course, you idiot!

I internally face palmed myself. I turned off all my messaging gadgets because I was afraid Eric calling me. So, I changed my phone numbers.

"Did she say when she's gonna be back?" I asked.

"No. I'm sorry," she smiled and walked away.

"Ok. Thanks!" I called out. She nodded and disappeared to the hallway.

I sighed. I'm homeless and still stubborn to call my parents for help. When I was a big messed after my breakup, my parents are my bestfriends. They kept me up when I can't think straight. So, now I want to spare them, from everything.

I walked to a bench outside the building. Few of my neighbors eyed my pathetic form. Guards even tried to ask me something but I walked, mindless to surroundings.

I sat there for hours. Looking around and staring at the sky. The birds were weightless against the gravity below them. How cool it is. They were free and happy in the clouds.

How I wish I'm a bird or an ins-

"Faye?..."

I closed my eyes tightly. I hoped I didn't heard that voice right.

There was a tap on my shoulder again.

"Faye Smith?" This time the voice got deeper and commanding.

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