Parables of Empathy (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Drabble- Another Tuesday Afternoon

Author's Note: In writing this fic, I've occasionally written drabbles that are canon to the series that take place somewhere in the past. This is the first of them, about Norman and Susie.

Additionally, the next book is called Flickers of Faith and like this book, it'll be available on my profile soon if you can't see it there already. 

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A familiar bustle rang in the air, chairs pushed in and conversations beginning as lunchtime rolled around. With a sigh, young Susie Campbell put down her script, happy to let her voice rest. Unfortunately, it'd be so very soon it'd be put again to good use.

"H-hey!"

It was just a second too late she stepped out of her recording booth, her heels getting caught on the door before she could catch up with the recording technicians. Her arm was left outstretched, reaching in vain for the now distant sight of her coworkers. Once again, she was left behind as they all planned to go to the bar for lunch, just like every Tuesday afternoon.

As they turned the hall's corner, her shoulders drooped and so did her expression.

"Now ain't that a shame, leaving behind the talent of the show!"

As was his way, Norman seemed to appear without anyone noticing he entered the room at all. His arms were folded and there was a slight lean in his stance, looking out at the departing men with a scolding attitude. Realizing her arm was still outstretched to them, she abruptly used it to push a few strands of auburn hair behind her ears, flattening her lips and looking away from the projectionist to hide her embarrassment.

Norman didn't comment, merely shaking his head at the thoughtlessness of the technicians.

"Mm, mm, mm. Just ain't proper." Finally, she saw him turn to face her, a small smile adding yet more dents and wrinkles in his cheeks. "Now, if I may, I'd like to offer to make it right."

Susie further messed with her hair, a light flush coming to her face. Yes, she understood that Norman's proposal was completely platonic; he was much older than she and always carried with a fatherly- even grandfatherly- aura when addressing her. No, it wasn't the friendliness that took her aback, not when they had had lunch together several times before. She was a woman that above all else strived for respect. This didn't mean demanding others to pay attention to her- quite the opposite, especially given that her choice of acting hid all but her voice from the public eye. It meant that she wanted to be appreciated, that she was seen as credible in her work. She desired to truly be one that brought her talent to the table, gambling it with more in return than she had walked in with. And so, the dismissiveness of the people who captured her voice in pristine quality had left her unsure of how much value she truly had.

Norman was a patient man, at least for his friend, and so he made sure she'd see that his gentle smirk did not waver a single second.

"You're too kind, you know," she finally answered.

"No, no," the man replied a few swings of the head, tilting his hat back in place once he had stopped. "I just know t' give someone their dues."

She returned his grin with her own, painted lips obvious next to paler skin. Yes, she definitely had value, even if only seen by the man who saw everything in this studio.

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Light from the window made a square over the table between them, some of it crossing over the bridge of his nose. They were very different people; dark skin, liverspots, and grey, balding hair on one side; light skin, beauty marks, and delicate curls on the other. And yet, they were never out of place. The two studio employees were only experiencing yet another moment of gossip and complaints, as they enjoyed doing.