Fear, the bumping through the soul, the enemy of the self, the predator which creeps in unknowingly, the sharped knife of dread kicking before the unexpected.
I'm not sure if it's really fear that's creeping into me, or it's my love to mysteries that's further triggered before what I'm seeing.
The air is heavier than any of my mornings. It's electrifying in a strange way, stranger than in that dream itself.
"Why's it.. like that?" I question, frozen, staring at the painting I've only painted yesterday.
The man in the middle isn't turning back, it's starting directly at me, standing straight. His shoulders squared and still. The long black coat giving him the power to put all that weight of an impending threat pressing on my mind.
Is my painting haunted now?!
I'm not sure how to react to this. My dream was the printing? Or I transcended to the painting? Is it another dimension or I'm just being forgetful? Did the brushes move overnight by those people, messing my painting?
It doesn't look messy tho.
I question myself. I can never forget what I've drawn. I'm sure of what I'm seeing. He's turned to face me and all the audience.
Nice. What could get better.
I flinch to the ringtone from a phone call I'm receiving. It's Lina.
"Good morning. Are you getting ready?" She seems to be in the office.
"I just woke up. You can come after two hours," I instruct directly.
"One hour. The editor in chief has invited the team for lunch and mentioned you. So, we need to be there on time," Her voice cracking and she seems to be held back to wait for my reaction.
"And you're mentioning this now?" I roll my eyes, getting pissed, because yes, this is one of the reasons I get angry. Last minute plans.
"I'm sorry, Rina. Things in the publishing house are getting weirder. And I've been so busy arranging them last night. Please, I'll make it up for you," Lina promises and leaves me no choice but to hurry up. I take a long time getting ready, my makeup, my hair, choosing what to wear isn't easy.
This whole lunch invite gets me busier to even forget about the painting for a while, yet, I remember it as I'm putting my mascara.
I quickly finish my soft look makeup and hurry to the closet.
What am I to wear now, ah..
I pick a couple of straight pants, skirts and three tops.
"Are these even suitable for a lunch invite, Rina?" I tilt my head to the left gazing at them lying flat on bed, confused and wondering if I should be formal, or just as casual as my everyday wear.
Finally, I decide to be a bit formal. A black satin buttoned shirt, and a mini fitting black skirt which its second layer is a long sliding tulle covering my legs— though it's sheer and hazy.
I put on a belt on the waist to let my silhouette look better and taller. I curl a bit my long hair and let it slide through one shoulder as I add two small bows on the top. As I'm putting my perfume and earrings, Lina texts. She's downstairs.
How about the painting?
I question. Not sure what to do but I have to hand it to them. I cover it so it doesn't get damaged and I take it with me.
Lina smiles to see me as I quickly snap not to show the unusual weird stuff I've been concerned about for a while.
"Where are we meeting them?" I start, adjusting the seatbelt and let the painting standing to the backseat behind.
"It's at the Red Dragon restaurant. I heard that the editor-in-chief wants to invite the writer too. She didn't answer so we're not sure whether she'll be there or no," She informs while starting the engine. Taking off as my heart drops few times.
I don't check my phone for two reasons. First, I'm having this weird feeling or intuition which I always trust and never failed to occur correctly. I hope it's nothing bad tho. Second, it's because I've carsickness.
"How come you finished the painting in one day?" Breaking the silence, she wonders.
"I read few parts. Had some ideas and got it done," I shrug because I'm sure she doesn't care to know.
"Didn't you read all the chapters?" Lina snaps eying me once and the road another.
"I had no time. I saw few illustrations inside and wanted to kind of embody the overall idea.."
"Rina! What illustrations are you talking about? What if you're not on the concept of the story?" She eventually interrupts and I ignore this fact, which I hate, and focus on what she's just said.
"What do you mean?" I freeze and my stares at her as she's getting anxious while I am having chills running down my spine.
"You should've read the whole novel so you get the idea. I understand that you're not fond of it or its concept, however, you're not supposed to look at other illustrations in order to merge your painting to the novel's," She's shouting. Looks at me again which takes her few seconds before she's turning to the road.
"I haven't looked at any illustrations except the ones in the novel. What are you talking about?" My words are clipped. I freeze at her sight. My eyes widen and my voice barely reaches.
"Rina. There are no illustrations in the novel. It's a story about a girl exploring a new world and it's all described in details, which is why, she's using long sentences. I don't know what are you talking about. I can't believe you didn't read the.." Her words fade in my ear. I'm more stunned as things are getting this far, so fast.
There are no illustrations in the script.
This sentence got my brain to pull the brakes and focus on what's been happening these past few hours.
First, the dream, which is related to the painting. Second, the painting which was transformed by I don't know who exactly. And lastly, the whole script isn't what's supposed to be, because the illustrations in it, which I clearly flipped its pages and got inspired from, aren't supposed to exist.
All of this run in my brain as I'm literally frozen, facing the road.
"Don't worry. If she doesn't like the painting I'll do it again. Otherwise, I'll pay for the loss," I finally affirm to take responsibility over this weird turn of events which is out of my control completely. I barely wrap my head around what's going on.
"That's if we can reach out to her," Her tone flattened, drained of patience and seems to hate the fact that I'm spouting nonsense.
I really ain't.
We arrive at the destination. She parks in the darkened underground level. It's chilly and empty. Just other dead cars with barely half alive engines.
I get out first to pick the painting. It's covered and won't be revealed until I'm asked to. Right when I'm about to carry it, a cold wind passes behind me. My hair swings as I freeze. My heart ponders. It's happening so fast.
"Rina," She calls in vain. "Rina!" Screams the devil, getting more annoyed by me.
"Huh?" I snap turning my sight to hers.
"Hurry up. What's taking you long to take a painting?" She swears rolling her eyes.
Why doesn't she help instead? Duh.
"Coming," I ignore her actions which normally they piss me off. Not today though. I'm focusing on what's going on with me. What's triggered this even?
I know I've been seeing them in dreams but that dream was different than any of what I had previously.
I grab the painting, ignoring these facts placed in front me, and catch up with her.
We head to the fourth floor of the big department store. The Red Dragon is a luxurious and famous series of restaurants all across the country. Its decor is exquisite and very distinguished with the porcelain sculptures of dragons and murals inside each private room. They're numbered, furnished with big rounded tables in black marble while the center of each is with glass.
We enter to find three editors already taking their places, chitchatting while one of them is taking a sip of water.
"Hey, Lina," Started Mr. Lee, a young developmental editor who probably spends most of his time putting his big round glasses, reading most of the scripts given to him, maybe sleeping in his office when things get busier with publishing. "How's the week going so far?" He proceeds.
"Don't ask me. I'm already losing it," She's casual. They're likely closer than I thought. I mean with her personality, it's hard to be this close to her.
"I know, Ms. Lina. I wonder if the writer is attending today or no," Mr. Rin adds. He's younger, but doesn't seem to be working long enough in this field. He's being formal, respectful while grabbing this opportunity to get closer to the teammates.
I seem to be invisible though.
"And this must be Ms. Rina, am I correct?" Rin turns his gaze to eye me right in my eyes.
"Ah, yeah. This is the curator of few novels we've published before," Lina introduces me in a flat tone as if it's a burden she's got to carry. I wouldn't call it introduction but rather a dismissal of my presence.
I know. Lina never liked me.
"We know her. We saw her few times at the publishing house," Mrs. Gin, the oldest editor in the company replies. "You're quiet famous among the teams, Ms. Rina," Continues in a very serious tone. She's always been like this. Barely smiles, poker face, so serious and her sight sharp, keen and unflinching.
"Hello everyone. I'm Rina," I present eloquently. My lips curve awkwardly, trying to be polite to what she's just stayed.
Rin smiles, doesn't take his eyes off of me. Lina sits down ignoring me and I could see the eyes rolling over the conversation. Lee is judging my outfit and probably thinks I'm just an easy-going person who doesn't appreciate novels enough while Gin is quite not giving a damn about anything. She's a boss lady.