3rd ♕

I took a sip from the cup of water that I had courteously asked from that dude behind the counter, after I'd bought a plastic of candles and a lighter. Mom no. 2 and I weren't able to pay on time, so the electric company gave us an opportunity to bond with the darkness.

"Did you hear about Love?" a squeaky voice penetrated my awareness. Redoing my bun, I gathered my hair and twisted it in place, keeping it together with a black ponytail. I pretended that I was busy with the cup of water I was holding. I never liked gossip, but I was too tired to repel it from entering my consciousness.

"Oh, my gosh. I was about to tell you that. I couldn't believe it," another squirmy voice answered.

A group of three girls was sitting right across the other side of the convenience store. I could see their reflection in the mirror beside me. The store was narrow enough to let everyone hear what they were talking about. There were only the counter dude and I, though. And counter dude was busy keeping his eyes open. He must have had a long night, and he didn't seem to be eavesdropping like I was.

"Love is feeling so down ever since their break-up," blond girl said.

This was one of my reasons why I had never been more satisfied with how my life went on from that day that my old friends had called it quits with me and left the usual spots they used to occupy in my life. It seriously wasn't that bad. There were obligatorily gossips that I had to share and know. No need for constant updates. Before going to sleep, I didn't have to bother calling each of them and complain how bad my day went, or go in details how I wasn't able to find a part-time job for three days now. Even my phone could last for days without being charged.

It was very convenient.

"After three strong years, they called it quits. She was crying the other day. I couldn't help but to cry, too. They were so good together," the other blond girl, but one whose hair was of a lighter color, added.

No best friend's boyfriend to worry about, either.

"I told you that it was him. I saw them in the mall last week," the one with a shorter stance—contrary to the other two who were model-tall—said.

"But Love wants to get him back more than anything. I know he's sorry, too. They're trying to work it out," darker blond girl replied.

Blah.

If he were sorry, he wouldn't even dare to sneak up behind her back in the first place.

I still didn't know why I was even listening, and why I was getting caught up with their story. This kind of feeling made me feel like I was living life in so much denial. Maybe I secretly loved hearing other people's conversation. This was what you'd get when you were used to having no one to talk to. You'd easily find yourself hearing out other people's conversations, because your mind was devoid of things to do.

Or so.

I ended up deciding to hear two or three more sentences before going along with my own life—the life that I had to find a way to live by. If I would leave in the middle of this eavesdropping, I would only end up thinking about what came next.

"I'll talk to him. He's good friends with Jeric," said shorty. "They'll work this out, as long as he'll promise that he'll never do it again."

I wanted to laugh. That was hardly any promise, at all. People had the tendency to do things out of habit. You needed a lot more than frivolous motivation in order to change. Robin would definitely need more than what he was capable of.

Shaking my head, I reminded myself that I should stop thinking about Robin. I promised myself three years ago that I would not care about him anymore.

Since I had reached the three-sentence limit, I quietly pushed back the chair I was sitting on, gathering my things. Robin, without Love or not, wasn't any of my business.

But as I turned around, the three girls looked up at me. They were supposed to do only a passing glance in my direction, but lighter blond recognized me. She ended up staring at me. The other two noticed, and then they all ended up looking at me with those big, gawky eyes all equipped with cosmetic contacts and eyelash extensions.

Silence ensued.

It usually went like this.

I pretended that I saw nothing in front of me but air, turning the heels of my shoes and heading for the door. I heard the brief squeak of my sneakers and the hushed words they were saying. I could hear them talking about me. Lighter blond, Lilian, tried calling me, but shorty, Carly, held her back.

"Don't," Carly said.

As usual, blond girl, Jena, said nothing. Reacted to nothing. Pretended that, like me, she also saw nothing. I wasn't surprised. She was the one who cunningly smiled when she saw me sitting alone at lunch the day after they had told me that I should stop hanging out with them in school.

This happened in tenth grade. It started when I had become the sacrificial offering for someone else's true love. The middle part of the story was when I killed my heart. The finale came about when I started sitting alone during lunch.

Tragic.

It was a once upon a time without the happy ending.

Lilian, lighter blond, dismissed Jena and Carly. She called me again, "George, wait!"

Adjusting the strap of my backpack, I didn't look back and headed for the double doors of the convenience store. There was nothing to say. I had kept my mouth shut for almost three years, so what good would it do if I would speak now?

♔~♕

A few blocks away and several minutes of riding my skateboard, I saw that a bakery that had a hiring sign. The white bond paper posted outside the glass window said that they needed a part-timer that could help around five days a week.

Qualification: Hard working

This job was for me. There wasn't anyone else in this whole town who would fit the description well. Even if I'd try not to and live like my other classmates before, who were all spoon fed with everything since birth, it wasn't really a pleasure given to me.

Looking at my vague reflection at the glass window, I checked if I looked okay enough to be presentable. My white shirt only had a small logo on the chest part. It wasn't saggy. It fit me enough to let it hug my hips. My gray colored jeans had one hole, and it was smaller compared to the ones in my other jean. I looked fine, from my fuzzy reflection. At least there was no hair standing out.

Clearing my throat, I put away the gum I was chewing, wrapping it in a piece of paper and tucking it in my pocket. I was still in the process of reciting in mind what I should say, when the door opened, and I was seen by the bakery owner.

"Um, hi," I muttered, trying to smile. I held my skateboard in one hand and pulled up the strap of my backpack on my right shoulder.

The bakery owner stared at me, for two seconds, before going to the waste basins, segregating the things he needed to dispose. He didn't even say a word. Not so much for a good sign. A good I'LL HIRE YOU sign.

"Dude—I mean, sir? I saw from the sign that you needed help. I wanted to apply for the job," I started, standing a few steps behind him.

Bakery owner finished what he was doing, without saying a word back. I kept myself in place, not slouching or showing any signs of exhaustion. All I wanted was for this day to end and have a new job before I'd lose the bet I made with Victhur Arzen, the legendary football player who unknowingly said yes to my dare.

After three minutes, bakery owner turned around and faced me. "Follow me inside."

"Okay. Um... yeah, sure." I steadily walked behind him, trying not to fall and create a domino effect. What I needed to do was to behave at my best and be hired. That was what I should focus on.

When we entered his small office, bakery owner took a seat and motioned to the empty chair in front of him. "You can sit over there."

As I was walking over to the chair, he stared at me from head to toe, with eyes full of judgment it was hard to miss. I took a seat, placing my hands on my lap, which was unlike me.

"Tell me about yourself," he said.

I kept my hands on my lap, although I was itching to scratch the back of my head. "I'm George, short for Georgiette. I just got out of high school a few days back. I'm currently looking for a new part time job this summer. I used to work in the animal shelter near here, and I—"

"Okay, that's enough. And why should I hire you?" Bakery owner was not interested in my life, obviously.

"I'm a very hard working person, and—"

"Is that a gum?" He was looking at my shirt instead of paying attention to what I was saying. Did this guy have an x-ray vision?

I looked down, and then I noticed that the gum was somehow was stuck on bottom part of my shirt, the one that I had tried my hardest not to be soiled. Then I remembered that I had pulled out the towel from my pocket to wipe the sweat on my face. That was probably how the gum had stealthily made its way out.

"Yes... it's just something that I..." Something that I usually chewed. Something that I loved doing, since it was a great way to waste time. And I always felt less hungry whenever I had a gum in my mouth. It saved money, too.

"I see," bakery owner said. "So I'll just call you. You can leave your resume here on this table."

Another no?

"I can avoid it. The gum, I mean," I said, putting down a copy of my resume. I knew all too well that they'd never call. It was either they needed you to appear tomorrow, or they didn't want anything to do with you. This was mostly the case.

Bakery owner only nodded, picking my resume without even reading it. He headed to the kitchen, still not showing any sign of interest. I had the urge to go after him, out of desperation. But I just stood there, let out a miff, and walked away.

Again.

As the day neared its end, I felt a little bit dejected. A little bit disappointed with myself. I was also afraid that I had to keep my side of the bet with Victhur Arzen, even if he had no idea that he had made a bet with me.

"The skateboard," I heard behind me. I turned around and saw a woman moving away a tray of bread from me. "It looks dirty. Can you leave a little faster?"

I kept very still as I took in her disgusted stare. Taking a deep breath, I focused on not losing control inside the place. That would lead the probability of me being hired from zero to a negative score.

"Fine. So you don't want me!" I screamed when I heard the bakery's door close behind me as I stepped out to the pavement. I was so angry that all I could think about was to light up a candle and throw it inside the bakery. Was it because I chewed gum and carried a skateboard? I furiously kicked the empty PET bottle on the ground to the other side of the street. "Burn to ashes, you useless store!"

"You didn't mean that," someone said beside me.

"Oh, shit—" Startled, I missed my aim and nearly hit a motorcycle rider. I was harmlessly going to hit the wall across the street. Sharply turning to my left, I thought it was the bakery owner, and he would give me a -200 percentage in my face, because I was fuming outside his store.

It wasn't.

Instead, it was a dude, who was probably around my age. I snapped at him, "What the hell is your problem?"

"A few," he answered with a fleeting shrug. He was standing a few steps from me, looking up at the signboard of the store across the street—the one I had almost hit with a PET bottle. His short, light brown hair was styled up at the top. For a fairly humid day, he distinguishably wore a light jacket. I had a fair share of sweat on my face towel. I guessed it was the hair. Thirty inches on my part was a real deal when it came to keeping in touch with the weather.

The dude, who was also wearing a pair of sunglasses, was holding a dog leash. I saw a Golden Retriever with a dark golden coat beside him. The dude's stare also seemed to be off.

A guide dog and sunglasses. Was he blind?

"You were not cursing a helpless store," he said to me, with due conviction. His gaze was still far ahead, not even glancing at my direction.

I hesitated. "And what is it to you if I was?"

"It's not a good thing to do." His answer was simple.

"Tell me what is," I said, finding it ironic. And then I saw him take a step forward, which was very dangerous, since a fast car was coming our way and it showed no sign of stopping. "Wait, don't move."

The car went past where we were standing.

"That one almost hit you," I told him. I looked at his golden retriever. "And him."

"Really? Well, thanks?" he muttered, hesitant.

"Sure," I replied, not knowing what else to say. I had to go and find a part-time job; I realized this after seeing the clock inside the said store that we seemed to be staring at for no reason. However, I felt guilty that I had to leave this dude here with his Golden Retriever who seemed to be new to being a guide dog. So I asked him, "Do you need to go somewhere?"

He turned to me. "Will you help me get there?"

If I'd do this, I wouldn't have time to win the bet I had made with Victhur Arzen. But my soul wouldn't sleep in peace if I'd leave them here. "Yeah, sure. I don't want to hear any bad news of a man getting hit by a car, because someone heartlessly left him and went her own way."

"That's very direct to the point, no?"

"Yes. So just deal with it. Where to?" I hesitated if I should hold his arm or what. Should I put a hand on his back and hold his arm, as I'd lead him the way? If he were way older, I might not end up getting embarrassed by the thought.

"Hero can do that, but if you insist..." He offered his arm to me, as if reading my thoughts. Okay, so it was really by the arm. I should try not to act so self-conscious. Securing my backpack in place, I held my skateboard with my right hand and offered my left to him. I had a fair height of five feet and seven inches, but I still had to lift my arm so that he could effortlessly rest his hand on it. The Golden Retriever followed us along as we safely crossed the street.

"So where do you have to go?" I asked him.

"The Royal Assembly Hall," he said.

"Oh, okay." I nodded, thinking it was so much of a coincidence. Maybe this was Victhur Arzen's way of shoving in my face that he won our bet. At four in the afternoon, with me still not having a part-time job, that was where I was supposed to be heading. With less than an hour before the cutoff period, I should start walking to that place.

"You seemed to be bothered," he said, as we were silently walking towards the Royal Assembly Hall. "Am I taking too much of your time?"

"Not," I replied, letting out a breath of sheer defeat. "It's just that that's where I'm supposed to be going, too. It's a coincidence that you're heading there as well."

"You're going there for?" he asked.

I blushed in embarrassment, which was solely because it was the first time I actually realized what I was supposed to do. If he'd only get to have a clearer view of me, he might think that I was crazy to even dare. But since he was blind, I didn't have to worry. My voice, aside from my cursing earlier, couldn't give away much detail that I lacked everything a princess should have.

Elegance, for example.

I could pretend, just to be hypocrital. "Yes, I'm going to try my luck. You'll never know."

He gave it a thought.

"I'll never be, I know. But what is there to lose?" I recited Pete's words.

"You only have less than an hour to get a form," he replied. For the first time, I saw him smile. "We should walk faster."

"There's still plenty of time," I said, feeling discomfited, as if he had found out my life's worth of secret.

We continued walking in silence.

An awkward one, I must say.

When we were finally standing in front of a massive and fancy building, also known as the Royal Assembly Hall, I asked him, "So where are you supposed to be heading? Not for the princess search, right?"

He laughed.

I started looking around, thinking where he might be heading. "Should I take you there or..."

"No, I'll be fine. Hero can take it from here," he told me.

"Are you sure?"

"Have a little faith in him," he answered, smiling again. "Thanks for the help."

"Bye," I replied, about to wave a hand, but I held it back. He wouldn't see it, anyway. After a beat, I did wave, just for the sake of camaraderie, even if we hadn't really known each other for long.

"See you," he answered, before heading his way.

♔~♕

"For one?" the woman, who was giving out the forms, asked me.

"Yes. Do you still have any left?" I said in almost a whisper, trying to hide my face in case anyone would recognize me. It would be great if there were still leftover application forms from the vast number that had swarmed here for the past few days.

"Of course! Here you go," she said, handing me an envelope. Taking out a clipboard, she instructed, "Please sign here."

"So where will I pass this again?" I asked, as I was writing my name on the list of princess wannabes.

"There's a date and time indicated inside. Please fill-up the form and submit it personally to the panel," she answered. "I think your schedule will be on the last day of the initial interviews."

"Sounds great." I tried to smile, since it was the trait I noticed in every princess out there.

She smiled back. "You girls are so lucky."

"Ha... ha... We sure are." I tried to laugh with grace. It didn't work well. Why was everyone saying that?

She briefly looked at the clipboard, before lifting her head. With a vibrant smile and enthusiasm in her voice, she said, "Good luck. We'll see you soon, Ms. McAlden."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks. Farewell to you," I recited, holding my head down in embarrassment. She didn't have to announce my name like that. The last thing I wanted was for someone to recognize me. Wait, why did I say farewell?

I felt like embarrassment would soon consume me whole, as I hurriedly got out of the door. This would be my secret. No one—not even Pete—had to know that I was making a desperate move. This was the only part-time job that hadn't said no to me yet. And trying times could lead to taking desperate measures to get a part-time with a good rate.

Royalty-priced.