Rohan Wayland kept his eyes fixed on the torn cover of the Science Illustrated in front of him. He took a bite of his homemade ham sandwich, hunched over the table and focused on the outdated journal. It was better than looking at nothing. Rohan's right leg jiggled nervously. He didn't like eating in the staff dining room and would have preferred to stay at his desk in the lab but, it was against protocol.

Two women whispered and giggled as they crossed the room to sit at the next table. Rohan kept his eyes fixed on the magazine. He heard the movement of furniture as they sat, and then more whispering and hushed laughter. Rohan's chest constricted in pain as his body tensed. Sometimes they left him alone. About twice a week, they didn't.

At the sound of a chair scraping on the floor, Rohan's fingers dug into the soft texture of his bread as his leg jerked a notch faster.

"Hey Rohan, what are you reading?"

He glanced at Sally Parks as she flicked her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder, before sliding onto the seat opposite, and then over at simpering Mercer Kennedy who remained at the next table. Taking a small bite of his sandwich, Rohan looked away.

Sally giggled and bent forward, her breasts pressed against the edge of the table. "You want to look at my tits today, Rohan?" She reached out, pulled his black-framed glasses from his face, huffed on the lenses, and then polished them with the fabric of her shirt, which lay open at her cleavage.

Though he couldn't read the words, Rohan kept his eyes on the magazine. His leg continued to shake so he gritted his teeth to make it stop.

"What's the matter, honey? You think you might ejaculate in your pants if you look at my breasts?"

Mercer turned to face them. She tilted her head so her dark hair covered one of her hazel eyes. "Sally, leave the poor prick alone and give him his glasses back. You know he won't be able to see a thing without them, anyway."

"Maybe he doesn't want to see my tits, Mercer." Sally pouted seductively. "That worries me because he keeps running away from poor harmless Sally who just wants to make him happy." She chuckled, cocked her head and looked at her friend, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anyway, sight's not important, Mercer. It's touch. Don't you know that?"

Sally faced Rohan again and ran her nails lightly along the back of his fingers as he held his sandwich. "I think you'd love to get them big fingers of yours on my body, in my secret crevasses, wouldn't you, Rohan?"

Mercer gasped. "You are such a bitch, Sally. One day he's going to hit you."

Sally giggled along with Mercer and leaned closer to Rohan. She kissed his cheek with her bright painted lips and placed his glasses back on his face. "You wouldn't hit me, would you, Rohan?" She traced the impression left by her lipstick with a long painted fingernail and let her warm breath caress his skin. "One day I'm gonna fuck you. Would you like that?" Sally placed her palm under his chin and forced his head up.

Rohan's jaw tensed.

"You do want me to fuck you don't you, Rohan?" Sally licked her lips so her saliva made her lipstick shine, and then she smiled. "I'm gonna do things to you that you never thought possible."

Rohan wrenched his face from her grasp, stood up, and hurried out of the room to the sound of their laughter. He pushed past Miss Macey, the payroll clerk, making her spill her coffee on the floor, and bolted down the stairs two at a time. Rubbing his cheek where Sally had kissed him, Rohan rushed out onto the street, gulped in a breath of air, and slumped against the brick wall.

He wiped his face again with the sleeve of his tattered jumper and took another breath. All his life he had been ridiculed for one thing or another. He kept telling himself not to let it affect him.

But it did.

Rohan rocked gently against the wall and wrapped one of his long arms around his chest in comfort. A soft mournful sound passed through his lips. He found it difficult to make conversation with anyone unless it was to do with his work, and even then it was hard; if it was a woman that just made the experience worse. Sally and Mercer knew this. A week never went by without one or the other going out of their way to get him upset.

He pushed himself off the wall and started to walk, crossed the road and took a side alley which led him out onto Charlotte Street and into a stream of people where he could become invisible.

Rohan inhaled, his chest expanding to its full girth as he tried to relax. He lifted the squashed sandwich still in his hand, sighed, tossed it into a bin, and then looked for a food van. Nothing. He looked up and down the street and spotted a small café, almost hidden between the huge Energex building and a block of offices. Rohan walked along the footpath and stopped across the road from it.

The heads of customers were visible through the glass windows. It seemed busy enough. He crossed the street, hesitated at the door, and then pushed it open, and closed it again before giving it a shove once more. Nobody turned to stare at him. He exhaled, stepped inside, and slid into one of the vacant booths. 

This poor man. No one deserves that kind of treatment. 

Photo taken from FreeStock photos.