Part 4

I grabbed my stuff from the car after parking my mini cooper in my designated space in the basement parking. With my laptop, keys and black Celine bag in hand, I walked to the elevator with the other employees of the building.

While waiting to ascend, I stared back at my reflection on the elevator walls, straightening my long white pleated skirt and black leather jacket before taking a deep breath. I needed to get this over with.

I was the remaining person in the elevator that's continuously ascending to the higher floors. Three companies shared the building, the two tech companies occupied the lower half, and Stellar Media Publishing occupied the upper half, along with its different departments and publishing labels.

I walked in my black ankle boots to the floor which we share with the finance department. Attached to the light gray walls of the corridor  were the recent covers of different magazines under the company, displayed in transparent glass boxes.

I pushed open the heavy glass door with the minimalist sign. The Lead. The leading lifestyle, travel and fashion magazine and website in the country.

"Good morning," I greeted.

A few greeted back. Everyone was busy, the office was in its usual chaotic environment, specially on a Monday morning. Everyone was rushing to and fro, or in phone calls with designers and creatives, or crying in front of their articles in frustration. And it gets worse on the week before a release.

I placed my things on my desk, which was basically a modern white  table with the shape of a staple wire with a red plush swivel chair just  like the rest in the office.

Mara, one of my office mates from the table next to me was all worked up so early in the morning and the venti iced coffee on her desk didn't seem to help ease the Monday blues.

Her celebrity feature walked out on her last week after her boyfriend broke up with her in the middle of the interview. Now she didn't want anything to do with the interview, which in the first place, was focus on her perfect looking relationship with the actor.

"I hate it here..." Mara muttered, so close to banging her head against  her laptop. "She's too wreck from the breakup, she didn't even want to talk to her manager."

"Come up with a new angle for the interview," I told Mara. "New beginning, independent woman, moving on, self worth. There's a huge readership for it. Try to pitch it to her. Even if she won't agree for now since the breakup was too recent, you had the first pitch for her post-breakup interview."

Mara turned to me on her swivel chair, her face the color of her fading pink hair. "Euls, you're an angel," bungisngis niya bago bumalik sa ginagawa.

Smiling, I grabbed the ipad from my bag, which I used for easier presentation of ideas, before I proceed to the violet room which we call the EIC office.

I knocked lightly on the transparent glass door before pushing it open. "Good morning," I greeted.

Ms. Cee was leaning against her violet executive chair, behind her  white desk while mindfully scrolling through Instagram. "Euls, you're here."

"You wanted to see me?" I confirmed, referring to her last reply to my email. I sat on the violet settee opposite her desk. Ms. Cee had obvious favoritism of the color.

"Let me just check a few things," she told me. Checking social media during working hours might look like slacking off, but it was actually  part of our job.

After a while, she placed her phone on the desk to face me. For a  woman in her late forties, Ms. Cee had this youthful face and young disposition, sometimes too chill for a boss.

I checked the screen of my ipad where a part of my pitch and questionnaire was displayed.

We should give emphasis on what they lose in exchange of gaining popularity, specially in today's world where the gap between normal living and celebrity lifestyle is getting bigger with the growth of the internet, worship and fandom culture, and how it directly affects their music.

"I love everything about it," Ms. Cee exclaimed. "The pitch, the questionnaire. It's good that we have a theme for this interview and not the usual get to know the artist. Those information are already available all over the internet."

Clasping both of her palms together, she leaned her chin on her  knuckles and smiled. "I was never wrong for choosing you for this project," she told me as though she didn't just gave me headache and sleepless nights.

For the last several days, I've been trying to persuade her nonstop for to assign this interview to someone else, but her conviction that I was perfect for this project remained solid.

"After this project, no more celebrity interviews for me," I said with utmost despair. "Let me focus on the fashion and lifestyle section of  The Lead."

"Let's me think about it."

"Ms. Cee, you've promised me!"

Her chuckle remained carefree. She used to be the EIC of the teen magazine I used to love, and one of the reasons why I applied in the company. But after years of working together, we're basically just two adults trying to survive workdays while keeping our motivation and passion alive.

As though the stressing situation with the band wasn't enough, before leaving her office, Ms. Cee dropped another bomb. "Oh look, the management replied and agreed with the schedule I've set."

She was checking her emails from her laptop when I turned my heels back to her desk.

"But I just forwarded the questionnaires last night," I pointed out.

"Euls, I know whatever you're working on will turn out great," she commented with a dismissive wave of her hand. "So I went ahead with the pitch you've presented the other day and set a schedule. They'll be here by Saturday."

"What?" Oh shit! "The writer I'm handling will be here to sign her  books on Saturday. I even went to the admin to call dibs on the conference room."

"Well, Euls, you need to find a new place because we're using the conference room for the interview."

After the conversation with Ms. Cee, I had no strength to go back to my desk so I went to the cafe on the ground floor and bought the biggest  size iced Americano. I brought it to the lounge area, a place in the lobby with large brown leather couches facing the glass wall, surrounded by  tall indoor plants.

I leaned against the couch, sighing deeply, thinking back and forth if I would tell Kayla about the conference room situation and the interview on the same day of her signing.

Kayla's easily anxious around people and chaotic environment. I  needed to make sure she's comfortable in the office and The Lead's conference room was the most private space we have.

After minutes of internal deliberation, I finally stood up from the leather couch. It would be more hassle to move the events, so might as well  find a way to fix things up.

The dreaded Saturday came.

I was all prepared and looking professional in my long beige blazer draped over my white button down blouse tucked underneath a tan colored pants and white criss-cross platform heels.

I helped prepare the conference room with the outsource while the photographer and creatives were preparing their sets for the photos necessary for the feature interview.

I walked around the room, adjusting the temperature of the several ACs, preparing the snacks and refreshments on the table, checking the cue cards and panels. God, it was nerve racking.

I caught my reflection on the glass wall of the conference room. I had  my ash blonde hair in waves with my lips in subtle red. I took a sharp breath and exhaled.

No pressure. The writer I was handling, who is also my best friend, and the band I've been stressing about for weeks, will be in the same  building in a few minutes, along with the guy I hated the most. No pressure, really.

Kayla's chat informed me she was already in the building. I  automatically checked the opposite room from the conference. A wide enough and private enough room to cater to the number of books she needed to sign.

The only catch about this room... it had two-way glass panel and Kayla would surely kill me if she learned that she would be seen from the conference room. But I had no other option and what she didn't know won't hurt her... hopefully.

I rushed out of the office to meet Kayla where she was already waiting for me by the elevator, dressed in her usual blue jeans black vintage  band shirt and a black blazer.

"You're here!"

I hoped my voice didn't sound so cheery. Madali niyang mapansin kung may tinatago ako base on my level of excitement.

"Let's set you up to your book signing."

She walked a step behind me until we reached the room with the glass panel filled with her books. A thousand copies of it were basically  taking over half of the room.

Nagliwanag ang mukha niya at sumilay ang ngiti sa labi niya habang pinagmamasdan ang mga libro. That kind of positive expression was  rare from a Kayla Veronica, so I was desperately hoping she wouldn't notice the glass panel.

But the moment she turned to me, her short live smile was replaced by a confused frown. "I thought I'd be using the conference room? 'Yon ang sinabi mo sa'kin last time."

"Today is the band's interview, the one I mentioned last time?" I explained to her. "Gagamitin nila ang conference room, but no worries. This room is as private."

Muli niyang pinagmasdan ang conference room mula sa tinted glass  panel. "They can't see me here, right?"

"Of course! Just don't mind them."

Para akong aatakihin sa puso habang pinagiisipan niya ito. Come on, Kayla. You're good at zoning in, of not minding your surrounding. Ngayon ko kailangan ng superpower mong 'yan.

"Okay," she muttered.

Para akong nabunutan ng tinik sa lalamunan. "Great!" I breathed out. "You want anything? Coffee? Nag-breakfast ka na ba? You want me to order something?"

Kayla sat on the chair and adjusted the height to make herself comfortable. "I'm okay, Eula. You're busy so don't mind me here. I'll start so I could finish early. Good luck with the interview... whoever  they are."

Napangiti ako sa sinabi niya. "I needed that."

Paglabas ko sa private room, huminga ako nang malalim. Phew. One agenda down. I checked the time on my phone, ready to tackle my  second agenda. They're gonna be here any time now.

Muli akong pumasok sa conference room to do last minute checking of the set up. Mukhang okay na ang lahat. From the slightly tinted glass panel, I could see Kayla from the other room while busily signing her books.

Sorry talaga, Kayla. I'll make it up to you, promise. Just let me survive this one.

The band was late for twenty minutes. Of course, that's expected. It was rare to encounter celebrities who were prompt with their appointments, specially interviews.

One of the outsource staff informed me that the band was already in the building. I breathed out and put up my most dazzling smile. Maria freakin' Eula, you've got this.

I walked to the elevator at the end of the corridor to meet them  first-hand. A few minutes later, the elevator door opened and I prepared my smile and greeting.

The manager stepped out first, then the stylist, then the members of the band, all tall and good looking.

"Hi!" I greeted them, extending my hand. "I'm Eula, editorial specialist of The Lead."

The manager clasped my hand to shake, then the stylist, followed by the lead singer. Hanggang sa isa-isa na nila akong kinamayan. When my hand reached Sancho's I wanted to pull it away, but his grip remained firm while staring at me.

When I finally pulled my hand away, binalik ko ang ngiti ko. "I'll lead you to the conference room."

I walked a few steps ahead of them, holding my breath, with my nerves centered to the hand that Sancho just held.

He didn't expect to see me here, I could tell with the way his gaze  roamed my face... and I thought we're both strangers in our current  lives but no.

Because that's the same way he used to look at me years ago.

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