| sting eucliffe

Faces are all around. They laugh, they smirk, they mock, they scream, they glare  - but none look away from me.

My adoptive grandfather, who entrusted the company to me, has an unusually cold gaze. He's said nothing; no words of comfort, insult, or forgiveness.

His face comes closer and his body starts materializing out of thin air until we stand face to face. He opens his mouth and begins talking, but I start to feel like I'm falling and falling into a void. It's as if-

Creak.

"Meow."

My eyes feel heavy, but I slowly blink as as an obese ball of ginger fur nuzzles my leg.

Lector's begging for food again by pretending that he loves me so much  that his food isn't on his mind when he's near me, but as I reach down to scratch around his ears and he purrs back, I find it a welcome distraction from the pain and loneliness and expectations inherited success brings.

A world where I'd just have to do six hours of paperwork without all the human interactions sounds like a dream. Lector could whine for food even more; I'd spend more time figuring the silver haired girl out; and my aunts would shut up at some point.

"The things I'd do to see that strange girl right now . . ."

Lector's purrs quiet down and he looks at me expectantly. I sigh.

"Alright, alright, I'll ask someone to fill your bowl if anyone bothers to check up on me."

He scrutinized me for a little while before he seemingly nods and continues purring.

"Sting." I almost fall off my chair when a familiar blond waltzes in with his signature hat.

"Rufus? What're you doing here?"

"Your assistant quit. The trainee manager was unprepared and your aunts are out, so someone called me to tell you that you have an important meeting to prepare for that'll be happening in about a week because they were too scared of you to do it themselves. I memorized the entire list of things you need to do, so after you intend to begin work, I shall recite them," he says without missing a beat, as if I am superhuman and will somehow manage six hours of sleep even with all this work.

"I don't intend to "begin work" for another hour, Rufus," I lie.

"I shall take my leave and be back, then." He turns to leave.

"Wait! Can you tell someone to refill Lector's food bowls?"

He nods and closes the door.

I turn to Lector. "I still can't believe you come to my work so often buddy."

"Meow."

"Before I delve into the stack of hell over there, since I don't have any meetings today, let's see what's up with the outside world."

A good hundred notifications are thrown at me when I turn on the computer. But one sticks out.

Mother sent me an email.

I haven't spoken to her since my adoptive grandfather died. She gave me up when I was seven and I only reached out when I became an adult once a year.

"Let's check the email an investor sent me, instead of bothering with someone who never did with me," I say, pretending Lector can understand me.

It's from an investor, who's saying that she'll vote to get me out of the CEO position if the stocks keep going down. I doubt she will, since the majority of the company's stocks are held by my aunt, but if she can somehow, who am I to argue?

"Meow." 

I scratch under his ears. "It's gonna rain today, Lector."