Three's Not a Crowd | gxgxg | ONC 2023

Chapter 2 |Wilting Hopes

Anya felt her blood boil and her thoughts turn hazy. They couldn't have betrayed her could they? The girl from before walked out elegantly, oozing confidence as only seen in the movies. Her hijab swayed behind her— she almost looked like a butterfly. Her heels clicked the floor and Anya tried to catch up and not stare.

Where did that thought come from? Anya shook her head to clear the image. She was not going to be distracted by some pompous, high achieving, rude girl.

She needed answers, and fast. She even promised her mom she had saved something special for later, and could feel her parents' frown. No sharp edged words or snark. Their disappointed sighs. Only her father's scrutiny and her mom's helplessness at her choices.

No, this couldn't be the end, now.

"Will you make it quick?" Anya snapped at her, quickening her pace.

The girl laughed, her hand covering most of her mouth and turned to look around. "Running away already?"

Anya gritted her teeth and made no remark. Her mood had considerably soured now and the girl only got on her nerves.

"What are you hoping to achieve anyways? Florists don't make much. I'm not surprised he didn't give you the building," she mused thoughtfully.

"For a confectioner, your tongue is sharper than the meat cleaver my mom uses to slice huge fish," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm sorry you're not as good as you thought you were," she said.

"We'll see about that," Anya huffed, and made the mistake of looking up to meet those warm brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, a complement to her deep caramel coloured skin. She stopped suddenly as her brain fogged and took in a deep breath.

She was irritated. She hated her. Everything about her screamed rich girl with a silver spoon stuck up her ass.She repeated the sentence and then nodded as though that cleared everything up.

They came to a pause in front of the owner's office downstairs.

"He may have gone for lunch," the girl mentioned as she knocked on the wooden door where a silver name plaque was fixed beside it.

Varkey John, it said, staring back and mocking her.

They waited a beat or two as the door opened with force and Anya stepped backwards. Regaining her balance, she managed a wobbly smile.

"Ah Kaynath! What brings you here?" they smiled warmly. He seemed to be in his forties, with salt and pepper hair and dark eyes. He wore a blue and white striped shirt, tucked into red and white pinstripe pants. Anya gave him a once over and tried her best not to snort with laughter. She cleared her throat.

He looked like a candy cane that had a manufacturing defect, considering the pants were a little too short and showed his ankles and his shirt was loose and hung off his body. She had to remember to be on his good side, if she even wanted a piece of this building.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," she gave her brightest smile and Anya scoffed internally. Was she actually sucking up to the owner right now? Pathetic.

"This person here is confused," she continued, side eyeing Anya like she was a buzzing fly that refused to leave. "She seems to think she had rights to the building, though we signed the paperwork."

"Ah Anya Mol," Varkey looked at her regretfully. "I'm sorry to have to confirm what Kaynath just said."

"But, we agreed I'd get the building!" she spluttered. "I mean, I even said I'd come with my deposit tomorrow."

"I know," he paused, tapping his fingers on the doorframe. "But you have to admit, confectioners make a lot more, honey. Restaurants are one of the biggest businesses here. Florists sell, but only during special occasions. How do you plan to run during the off-season?"

"Well, I thought, I'd figure it out later," she looked away. She could feel Kaynath's eyes drill holes to the side of her head and she didn't look her way, determined not to make a fool out of herself.

"Ah," they said, as though that explained everything. "Well, Kulsum's Confectionery is growing and we figured a branch in Kochi would help. Let the people get her famous sweets, after all."

"I...just thought we had an unspoken agreement," she bit her lip, to stop her emotions from spilling over.

"I'm terribly sorry, to have to do this to you," his gaze softened, but was still firm in his decision.

Anya looked at her black flip flops, a stark contrast to the pristine off-white porcelain tiles of the office, the heels offering no leverage to her quickly deflating excitement. The sea horse looked dejected as well and had scooted to a corner, a little farther away from her.

"Is there no other way?" she whispered softly, hoping that nobody could hear it almost crack at the edges.

Anya couldn't hear what was being spoken amongst them, whether it sounded like scrutiny or cruel snide remarks, she couldn't tell at all. They jumbled and warped together until it sounded like the broken ceiling fan in her room where it didn't have a regulator and made a groaning sound every time she turned it on.

It was getting hot.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Kaynath yelped and startled her. "What's that?" She was pointing at the wall where roots had started to crack through the walls and moss surrounded Anya's feet. The roots kept growing in width and branching out like a maze.

Anya blinked a few times. "Huh. Oh. That's me. I have the gift of plants, I told you."

The roots stopped moving, as though, attuned to her emotion, waiting for her command. She took a few steadying breaths and the roots receded, slithering back wherever they came from. The cracks got replaced by moss which later got sucked back. The walls looked clean again.

"Fascinating," said Varkey, straightening the hem of his cuffs. "But, I must get back to work. It was good talking to you, Kaynath."

Kaynath nodded, but kept staring at the wall where the roots suddenly sprung out. She looked curious, to Anya, but kept her mouth shut.

"Did you want to ask me something?" Anya inquired with an amused smile on her lips.

"No. Did I give off any impression that I wanted to?" She turned around and Anya was left alone with moss surrounding her feet and wilting lilies.

Should she have cut her losses and picked a more lucrative job?

No, this was her choice, and if nothing else, she would go through it. Even if it meant going through hell before admitting she could be wrong.

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And, 2k words done for the Open Novella Contest! If you liked this chapter, don't forget to leave a vote and comment. It means so much to me. See you next week for another chapter!