'Either they succeed or they can be mascots for the store, helping us call customers. I can also see if they can serve as models for new seasons' exclusive displays for the VIPs, or waitresses during the event…'
Manager Silina goes on to think about possible training and pay for the different plans swirling through her head as she leads us to the back of the locker rooms for the staff of the store.
At least, her thoughts show she agrees that Emmie and I are higher up the scale in terms of appearance. She is already considering all the other ways she may be able to make use of us if we fail to impress her.
Really pragmatic, but that is understandable. She is already not bad. She isn't considering anything unscrupulous for profits yet. I shake my distracting thoughts away, neither happy or disappointed.
My eyes move from Manager Silina's back to her swaying hips. Her movements seem deliberate, the swing of her butt too rhythmic, like a seductive hypnotism. It seems that anything is a weapon to get sales. That must have been the determination and the degree of investment that have made her a manager in her thirties, with enough experience showing that she had been one for a while already.
"Wait here."
I look around the locker room. It is full of the smell of beauty products. Through the half opened door of a locker, I can see lipsticks, brushes and other make-up accessories in pockets hanging on the inner part of the door. There is even something… lacy hanging in the door. I don't even want to imagine what the darkness of the compartments inside is holding.
"Here. Change into this first."
I raise an eyebrow. Manager Silina is serious in giving us a chance. After the short trip out, she is back with shirts and skirts for Emmie and I, missing only blazers to give us the same look as the other salesladies.
I pass Emmie her size of the incomplete uniforms, and look around. But Emmie doesn't need a more discreet place. She starts taking off her top immediately, then her bottom. I glance at her, then at the manager who meets my gaze, then follow suit after a slight twinge of discomfort.
My heightened sensitivity has nakedness bothering me more than before, even half nakedness, even with the touch of the wind.
Fortunately, I didn't have the habit of going to school braless, no matter how small I am. Even, ever since I have found myself more grounded in my female identity after having my virginity torn by Emmie, I have not needed to desensitize myself anymore, like that time I went running without anything under my pants.
Emmie and I ignore the manager's gaze on our bodies, and button the shirts before pushing them inside our skirts. By then, a knock rings and a clerk comes inside with shoe boxes which she gives to Manager Silina. She left, without a word, but with her eyes riveted on us full of curiosity.
Manager Silina takes the high heels out of their boxes.
"Here. Wear this too and follow me. I will briefly introduce the items of the store to you, then you will show me what you can do, and if you deserve that internship."
I ignore the emphasis on the last word. Instead, I hesitate a bit, before wearing the shoes I have avoided the kinds of ever since the accident. But I don't hesitate for long. I suppress the feeling of weirdness and wear them, hoping that I have not forgotten how to balance myself with them at my feet. And to be frank, I have only ever worn thick-soiled high heels before.
The sudden addition of a few inches to my height feels uncomfortable. I breathe to keep myself steady, and look at myself in the mirror.
White shirt, black skirt and mature black high heels. I unconsciously move to tuck my short, dull yellow hair behind my ear. With my pale but healthy skin, and my steady pale blue eyes, I suddenly can't help but feel my heart beat at my own image.
It is not narcissism. I'm not falling in love with myself. I just suddenly become aware of my beauty, of my femininity, more than ever before. I'm so beautiful, so feminine, but with holes in my sense of identity inside.
Female? Male? Adult videos with office scripts suddenly flash through my mind. I feel a twist in my stomach, almost from my womb. My eyes ripple, before I breathe to calm the warmth flooding my body starting from my heart. I smooth my clothes, feeling my flat stomach beneath the shirt, and look at Emmie.
The corner of my lips twitches into a smile. Unlike me, the office lady look doesn't resonate with her personal style.
Manager Silina nods, and leads the way out.
"Let's go."
I hurriedly throw my clothes into my bag, and Emmie follows suit. We put the bags on a table in the corner, and hasten out.
Emmie tries to smile, but looks nervous. I glance at the back before us, then take her hand. Feeling the sweat in her palm, I squeeze her hand. I lean toward her and whisper to reassure her.
"Don't worry, don't think too much. Relax and smile. That will make people relaxed and patient, and minimize risks of harsh answers and conflicts."
Emmie's red eyes look at me. The nervousness inside searches for signs of deception, but I'm not just comforting her. Resonance is a thing, and in communication, starting with a smile is a signal that calls for another smile in response, setting the tone for a peaceful first minute at least, enough to engage and succeed in creating interest, or fail without causing conflict.
The assurance in my blue eyes does the work. Emmie nods firmly, then smiles as she turns to focus on the manager's gait. While she is trying to learn, I turn to my own nervousness under the calm facade, with each of my steps on the high heels making me feel my muscles, from my calves to my stomach, move and shift.
A woman. A girl. As opposed to a man, a male. The contradicting echoes from the life past. I wonder if everytime I will find myself grounded in this life, something will come to disturb me, if something will come and pull out the irrelevant impressions from the past. Will I feel phantom limbs at some points if things get worse?
Will the war in my mind ever end, or will it only be battles after battles, continuous relapses after illusion of resolution, of peace?