Angelina's

I knew that day would be hectic, and people would be busy as bees. The president was coming for his monthly visit, and his room and Oxygen's place to park helicopters needed to be cleaned. As everyone was too preoccupied with grapes and fish I had the morning all to myself. Without doctors, meals in bed or worried looks toward my person. So the first thing I did was taking the elevator.

Ten years ago, Oxygen's elevator was one the biggest I had seen. Today, it is the hugest. Oliver has made a new configuration to it, as well the whole building from inside, including the emergency stairs (now with a thousand cameras), and the Common Room (with even more trees in the place of the ones once smashed), and Room 9. Guess what, he amplified Room 9 absurdly and made sure every equipment was at the right place, centimeter per centimeter. Plim! The elevator opened smoothly. I breathed the air, that hadn't changed much from one floor above, and walked in silence ready to knock on their door.

•••

"Honey, if he is mistreating you in any way..."

"Mom! He would never mistreat me!"

"I think your mother is right, maybe your sickness has to do with Snowfields in some way."

"My sickness has nothing to do with Oliver."

Mom and Sir exchanged worried looks. I should have known they would turn up discussing about the subject sooner or later. Every time I visited them, it was the same thing.

"We are just saying, honey, that maybe..."

"Mom!"

Sir suddenly got up. He passed a hand on his thick Indian brows, and I saw he was sweating a bit. He looked at me with his hands on his hips. "Angelina, are you taking your contraceptives correctly?"

Everything about his brows and sweat evaporated from my mind. I squeezed both sides of my chair until my fingers hurt. Sir's expression was firm, not taking his eyes of mine, and so was mom, concentrated and severe. I've never seen her so severe in my life. She was severe, yes she was, and so severe I felt like peeing in my pants. They were both staring at me with those gelid eyes.

"What?!"

"Honey, you are 25 years old. And still, sometimes I think you don't see the problem right on your face."

"You are saying I am pregnant, mom?"

•••
🔸🔸🔸

Sebastian's

"Boom. I wasn't expecting that." Kennedy said, digging the tweezers deeper into the patient's ribs. "The president, coming today. What a delight..."

"Perhaps he will bring more of his people for us to treat. Careful with this tissue, Ken."

"His heart is accelerating, we need another dose of ACE inhibitors. Receptor blockers may work well, too. Apply some near his neuro."

"Angiotensin milligrams for you, friend. Hope you survive."

Kennedy smiled. "yes, hope he does."

We stayed in silence. The patient was still, my faith on him only increased as minutes passed.

"I think the president is an asshole." Kennedy said.

"I think Snowfields is an asshole."

She chucked. The sutures trembled, but her surgical hands were unstoppable. "That's because you never met him in person."

"I see who he is through his actions, Ken. Extinguishing the stock of medical supplies is not something a decent leader would do, nor reducing the meat we eat per day." I was sure he was still eating one bull for lunch and one bull for dinner while we, from downstairs, were content with synthetic food with no taste at all. Snowfields thought he could fool us, but I was not fool.

"At least he protects us." Kennedy made the final step with the scissors, and the surgery was done.

"1 hour and a half."

"Faster than cheetahs. High five!"

Clap!

🔸🔸🔸
•••

Angelina's

I am not pregnant. I can't be. Mom and Sr are totally insane. There is no possibility of-

"Honey, I am your mother and I know exactly what you are feeling. It is not sickness you have, dear. Aversion to food, mood swings, low energy..."

"Mood swings?! I'm not with mood swings, I am bipolar myself, and I am not pregnant."

"Listen to your mother. If there is a baby in there we need to tell Oliver, and fast."

"I AM NOT PREGNANT AND OLIVER HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY PROBLEMS!"

"Angelina Firenze!"

"I am not a child! God! I can take care of myself, thank you very much!" I opened roughly the apartment's door. They were left without a goodbye, see you soon. It was not the fist time that happened, I was sick of Mom and Sr's opinions. There was thick water drops coming from my eyes, I didn't want them to come so I wiped them out with my hands.

"Ouch!"

In front of me was a little dog, and I had stepped onto one of its paws. The "ouch!" had come from me, as I was used to whimpering for others. The dog was a basset, the sausage-like pal, and it was, if was I not mistaken, the kitchen Chef's.

"Hello", I said. The dog jumped on my leg, leaving thin scratches on it, her tail was acting crazy, and I laughed. Always wanted to have a pet; but if it is hard to take care of myself, imagine raising a dog? ... or a child..?

My throat closed again, another tear was coming. This time I didn't wipe out because my hands were occupied following the direction of the dog's fur. It was not soft because she needed a bath with a lot of conditioner... but she was a dog, no one would accept wasting conditioner on her. I would call her Lady unless someone said otherwise. Lady because Lady and the trump used to be my favorite movie of all times. She licked and bit my fingers, her tail unstoppable, but when I tried to carry her to my lap, she escaped.

Lady the missile went flying to the stairs. She went up the staircases, faster than I imagined a little sausage would go. "Lady! Don't go upstairs! They are not used to dogs messing around!"

She pushed with her head the door to my floor. I felt an impulse to jump after her, but didn't. My right hand was over my belly. If there was someone waiting for me in there, jumping after dogs was not a good idea. All I saw was Lady's dancing tail disappearing through Oliver's office doors.

No.

"Bad Lady, bad Lady, bad Lady... come back!" I whisper-shouted to the gap she had gone through seconds ago. Couldn't believe in my misfortune...

Footsteps.

"Indeed, President Gene, I am willing to hearing all about this contract." Oliver's powerful voice erupted from the adjacent hall. Poop in my pants.