Back to nonstop working. Mirajane asked how my day went yesterday. She definitely knows about the incident. Thanks to my co-workers. They're the stars of the show.

          "Did you get fired?" she asked, sounding hesitant to even ask.

          "No, and why is everyone asking me that?" I say as I opened my computer, typing in my password. The first pop up I received was a message from Mr. Fullbuster yet again.

Gray Fullbuster (manager):
Ms. Heartfilia, this is to remind you to inform Mirajane Strauss of her new assignment. The evaluation forms. Please tell her she's to report to my office at 4:30 and hand out the forms at 4:45 and return them to my desk at 5:30, on the clock. Thank you.

Mirajane went and read the message on her own, almost spitting out the coffee she was drinking on my computer screen. "Is this for real? Ooh, he's in a heap of trouble, I can tell. To say thank you? That's the newest giveaway."

          "Yeah," was all I could say. It's true this was the first time he worded out thank you. He usually only uses it when he's actually grateful and he's only used it like twice since I worked here. Not tnx, ty, thanks, but the full word.

          "What did you exactly do when you returned here yesterday? Did you actually do work?" Mira asked. Come to think of it. . .

          "I helped out on the filing. But other than that, he didn't assign anything for me to write about." That was a first.

           "Oh, wait," Mira lurked through my conversation with our boss again, eyeing a new message, assigning me a new topic for my entry. "There it is."

           "Patience." I looked at Mira. She shrugs, not seeing the problem. "Patience. He wants me to write about patience. Is he serious?"

           "When has he ever fooled around with us, hm?" Mira hums, staring back at the message. "Maybe it has something to do with what he's experiencing at the moment. He needs help."

            "But isn't that too personal to be involved with work?" truthfully, I want to help him out, whether as a friend or his employee or whatever he sees me as. But firstly, that topic is vague. Is he asking me to list do's and don't's? Share my experience for the introduction before I dive in on how one develops patience? "I'm gonna ask him."

             "That's suicide." Mira warns, holding me back by my arm. "He's on the phone with someone!" She's right. Through his see-through glass doors, he was standing, rounding about his room, but it doesn't look like he's talking formally to a client or his father. Who was it?

             "Well, I can't write here if he wants me to talk about patience. I need to be somewhere cool my head off and feel at ease," again, I attempted to follow through with my plan to inquire in his office, but Mira raced me to it to stop me.

              "Why don't we test it out?" she suggested. "See if it's a personal matter or not."

              "How?"

Mira pushed me back in my seat and scrambled to find his email, placing my hands on the keyboard. "Message him through email."

              "Isn't that a bit too informal?" just imaging how he'd react seeing someone on his screen ask online instead of coming straight to him was scaring the soul out of me, making me think, I might have to look for options to work at if I ever get fired soon enough due to my decisions. He might be taking it slow at work but losing control is still potential threat.

              "This is how you test it out. He always messages us first, why shouldn't we get a turn?"

               "..because he's the boss..?"

               "Look, I’ll cover for you if he gets mad. I promise.”  It was hard to pass up on that offer. Other than that, it was because I was afraid of facing him in that dark office again and be humiliated for the second time. So I finally lifted my arms off the keyboard and let Mirajane in.

blink!

             “Oh. . oh my God. Oh, my God! Mira, what the hell did you do!”

I was FREAKING OUT. Imagine leaving your responsibility to someone whom you THOUGHT could change your life, whom you THOUGHT could HANDLE it on their own but NO, they go behind your back to type THIS to your BOSS who ALREADY HATES ME ENOUGH to might as well fire me on the spot when he gets the chance to.

Mirajane typed THIS:

Lucy Heartfilia (employee):
Hey what up. So is this patience about your anger management issue or nah? See ya when i see ya

              “Bitch.” I pushed my chair away from my desk and faced Mira eye-to-eye, who was now backing away from me with a smirk across her face. “You are not sending that message to Mr. Fullbuster.”

               “Relaaax, we didn’t press send yet. Lighten up,” Mira went and marched back to my desk, only to stay frozen in place. There was gasping. Squeaking coming from the wheels of my swivel chair. And my heart sinking to the bottomless pit of shame. “Uh-oh. . ,”

Lucy Heartfilia (employee)’s
message has been sent to
Gray Fullbuster (manager).

Without letting another second pass by, I rushed to Mr. Fullbuster’s office, who was clearly still on his phone call like I saw him a few moments ago. I pushed his door open without thinking, almost interrupting his conversation, but thankfully, I hid under his desk seeing as he was leaning towards the window at the other end of the room.

My hands started lurking on the keyboard. I took a quick little peek at which his feet were pointing at; still beyond that window. It was an opportunity I couldn't let go, so I went and saw my message on the topmost of his inbox. I went and right-clicked on my message, pressing delete.

YES!

             “. . . yes, I understand the evaluations seem higher than we anticipated, but. . ” my boss’ feet headed towards his desk. Naturally, I had to move to the other side—the side that's visible to the eyes of every other employee I work with on this floor. I could’ve sworn Cana and Mira were teaming up behind me judging by their little high five. I was prepared to move out of there when. . .

                “Two weeks!!”  I almost yelped out like a little dog when Mr. Fullbuster attempted to yell again, under his breath this time, which is closer to my distance so it's still considered a yell.  “You took off one week for our agreement? Are you fucking— listen up, father, you cannot actually think my employees would change their minds in a span of 14 days? You—you do? Then you're—” before he could continue to say what I believe he was about to say, he hung up. Grabbing his hair, ruffling it about as he looked out the window again, leaning his elbow against the glass window.

This is my chance!

🦇

               “Honestly,”  completely drained and overworked from the little fiasco I almost created again within workspace, I found myself clocking out a bit early. I have my assigned task, all I have to do now is sit back and enjoy my blueberry muffin I bought from Elfman’s earlier and maybe get started on that book I borrowed to gain ideas.

I had my keys dangling on the tips of my fingers when I was nearing the entry of my home. Taking off my sweaty blouse and too-tight-for-my-thighs skirt and released tension by plopping on my bed.

My eyes darted down to the apple. The apple I received from that stranger yesterday. It wasn't spoiled at all! It hadn't gone bad when I left it out here in the open in the heat it must’ve been under the whole day I was gone. Judging by the smell of it, it’s edible? Perhaps.

That's when seven rather cheerful knocks came to my door.