I almost hiss at her. “It’s been a long day.”
“I just had to sit in. Jacquetta fired Angela.”
“Damn. Angela really needs this job.”
“Yes, she does. And now she’s got nothing but three kids and all the same bills she had before. No job. It was because she was one minute late seven times in a month. One minute.”
“That’s petty,” Edie says, sitting in the chair across from my desk.
“I know. I just... this is hurting me. This is disturbing my joy.”
“This is work,” Edie says. “That’s just how it is.”
I lean back in my chair.
That’s not how it’s supposed to be.
A good job isn’t supposed to pull everything out of you and leave you a husk. Every job isn’t supposed to be fulfilling and joyful, but it shouldn’t drain the life out of you either.
I don’t want to keep doing this forever.
I glance at my Lit with Lily schedule again.
I could scale and do this more.
Because I don’t know what I’m doing right now other than splitting myself in half, and one half of me feels rotten while the other half is thriving.
I don’t feel well. I email Jacquetta, letting her know I’m using sick leave for the rest of the day, and grab my laptop and keys
“I’m going home,” I tell Edie.
“Self-care is the best care!” She calls out as she leaves.
I replay Edie’s words when the warm air outside wraps itself around me. I need more than a manicure and cucumbers on my face right now. I can’t keep ignoring what I need.
Chapter 9 Javonte
“Javonte, can you sign my shoe?” a teenager asks as he pulls his shoe off his foot.
This is never not going to be crazy to me, that people want me to sign their things with my name. This man has taken off his shoe. It’s not even my shoe. I can’t complain.
Fame is a blessing most of the time.
When people adore you and fawn over you, it is nice. I can’t lie. It strokes the ego in a way that I didn’t know anything could. People love me for what I do, and these people don’t know me at all. They just know what they see in the media and what they see in games.
But it’s nice to be adored.
So even though I’m supposed to be here with Zea, shopping because she wanted to shop, I stop and sign autographs for my fans.
After the first three, Zea gets annoyed. She’s sitting on a bench right now across from me, scrolling on her phone with that look on her face.
I’m going to do three more, and then we’re going to go.
I sign the young man’s shoe and give it back to him, and he walks away holding it with just one shoe on. It makes me laugh.
I chuckle as I sign the next T-shirt, and then finally someone’s arm.
That one’s weird.
