Benjamin
“How does it feel being the youngest Global Brand Manager ever?” Louisa came up to me when I passed by her office to attend the meeting with the BOD of the company — some directors participated in the discussion virtually, and some were not. The meeting lasted for three hours, and we discussed the possibility of me being the new Global Brand Manager of the Group.
“They haven’t confirmed it yet. There are possibilities that they would choose him, not me.” I walked past the marketing department on the same floor as her.
“I heard that they will send you to the US for two years right away, and I assure you, you’ll get the job, not him, not anyone else.” Louisa was two years older than me, and we met when I came as the new guy in the marketing department, and she was already there for years before that — she did her master’s and worked simultaneously. We’ve become close due to the several projects that we both handled by that time.
“He got a way better connection than I did,” I told her.
“But, he’s not young enough to understand the market. Yes, he got all the connections, but he doesn’t know what the people want. This industry needed you more than the connection he got.” The clicking sounds of her heels stopped as we both were waiting for the lift — they had installed a lift inside this classical architecture.
Not many lifts were installed inside any building in Paris, some were still using the stairs, and some had installed them. Any hotel with four or more floors is required to have a lift installed, while most Parisian apartments older than a hundred years old are unlikely to have one.
We were downstairs now, and we were waiting for an uber — it was lunchtime already when the meeting ended. My eyes were glued to my phone. I kept checking my email, and there was a notification from one of my classmates back when I went to Boston University — a reunion. In the past few years, I’ve always been busy, and I always happened to read the email a few weeks late.
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“Are you listening to me?” She asked.
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“It’s lunchtime, and you need to stop looking at your phone.” She takes away my phone and puts it down.
I grabbed my phone and said, “It’s not a work thing.”
“Still. You were always glued to your phone with me, and what’s with your wallpaper anyway? You had that wallpaper for years already, and why don’t you want to change it?”
Because this picture means a lot to me — it was the last photo someone sent me before I left them, and I’ve been cursing myself since then. The regret flashes before my eyes — the day I decided to leave the city that’s been holding a lot of memories with someone. I was an ass back then, and I have never heard from her since then. Her Instagram account was active, but I didn’t dare to open mine because I could see her there. I was active a few years after the day I broke up with her, and she never once liked or saw my Insta story — we were still following each other, and, well, one time, I accidentally saw her Insta story, but it was a guy. I looked up on LinkedIn, and he works in Christian Dior — that was the only time I saw her story. I was afraid that I would flip and leave everything behind in Paris. I almost did that day.
“Hello?? Earth to Adrian?” Louisa called me again. I have no idea what she was saying as I keep thinking about the reunion that will happen in a month.
“I’m sorry. I just had a lot in mind.” I told her.
“You can just talk to me.” She said.
I turned to her and smiled, “I can handle it by myself. But, thanks for the offer.”
