Attitudes change I

I never expected I'd be late for work.

Well, I wouldn't call it late per se but I did arrive ten minutes later than I usually do and I usually arrive maybe twenty or thirty minutes early. Yeah, I'm late in my definition, not anyone else's.

The automatic doors paused and withdrew further into the wall, someone had just walked out from the inside but I was detected by the motion sensors before it could slide shut.

"Good morning, Sherry."

Sheridan looked up at me as usual, I know what comes next. Either she'll shrug it off, silently follow my profile with her gaze until I get into the elevator or she'll glance up at me with a plain expression and continue with her morning routines.

Today, on the other hand, I think she'll probably stop breathing or start breathing heavily and ask how much I paid to get my face done. Sheridan can also be quite irritating when she wants to be, if she decides to let everyone know how much I'd changed, she'll probably say something like this.

"Trash like you are unpresentable so you shouldn't be too surprised that the company can't take you on their trip to Paris but did you have to stoop so low and use tricks like this? You have no shame coming to the company with a banned substance on your face (the company promotes products that enhance your natural beauty so Botox injections and plastic surgeries while you're still a worker there are prohibited) I'm going to report you to the MD. Being guilty of malfeasance, I'm sure you're going get fired whether or not you've had a clean employee record before now."

She'll also put it in a tone that will be loud enough for those going in and out of the company to hear. Even if it's not so clear, it'll be enough to kick off nasty rumors about me. And I'm not just saying this because I'm assuming the worst about her.

On the contrary, I'm simple minded and I still look forward to seeing a bit of the good in people masked with strife and rudeness. Also, Sheridan and I interviewed the same day to join this company. Although I'm not completely sure about the position she was interviewed for, I do know that with her certificate the job of a receptionist is way below her level.

I mistakenly bumped into her when I was called in and she retaliated with so much disgust etched into her somewhat flawless face, excluding the birthmark under her left nostril. She even sputtered something unsightly like;

"Eww, don't touch me. What if your hideous scar is contagious or something."

Hearing that from her really hurt me, especially because she looked so confident when she arrived in the waiting room. She seemed ready for any impromptu question that could be fired at her and she was beautiful. She had all the traits I didn't and I admired her for it.

I was so nervous that my palms were sweating and smudging the papers a worker had handed to us after verifying our identification documents. I felt like I was underdressed and my heart decided it was the perfect time to do a workout session to burn out the accumulated calories from my recent cup noodles addiction.

But I still had to thank her too. She harsh outburst had pierced the battered essence of the self-esteem that I was managing to keep up and running but it also got rid of the nausea and uneasiness settling in my upper abdomen and it squeezed on the insides of my chest and gave my heart a breather. I can't say if my interview was excellent since I'd somehow tricked my mind into deleting the whole thirty-minute video from my memory but I got the position I applied for and that means that I did pretty well.

I glanced at the bag of coffee in my hand, I didn't have an extra one to give Sherry but I did have an extra pastry. I usually buy ten doughnuts, glazed or crumbled but today I went with sprinkles. Five chocolate sprinkled, five strawberries sprinkled, then Madame Paisleigh added in two vanilla sprinkled for being a consistent customer for the passed two years.

"I have a little snack for you, you can have it for brunch or something."

I picked it up in the neat brown wrapping paper and placed it behind her on her glass desk.

"Thanks, Danny. Have a nice day at work."

I glanced up at her expecting a scowl but she was smiling. Sheridan... smiled? At me? Since when?

"Um, you recognize me?"

And she knows that people call me Danny? She hasn't replied to me ever since my first day here when I asked which floor the advertisement team was situated on.

"What's that supposed to mean? Of course, I do. Thanks for the doughnut, you should head to the fourth floor as soon as possible, someone from HQ just used the personal elevator a few seconds ago to go and check on the selected people for the fashion show next month."

I stared at Sheridan before conveying my gratitude. She was addressing me so naturally like she had no idea what I looked like before the app's intervention. I leaned against the back of the elevator in deep thought. Others were stopping on the second and third floors, so I had a few minutes to myself. No one was staring or whispering.

What is going on? Why isn't anyone staring at me with horrified expressions? Or even asking me how I look so different after just one night? Something is not right here.

PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER

Danica reached over for the stapler and mistakenly knocked over her worker's ID card hanging loose from a turn plastic casing. The picture in the photo box was no doubt the same as the avatar she created on the facelife app.