Prologue : The Phone Call

Prologue : The Phone Call

« Thompson, I want your report on Carter & Sons in five minutes in my office ! »

« Thompson, where's your report on Schuster ? I needed it yesterday ! »

« I'm working on it, boss ! »

« Don't worry, boss ! »

If you imagined being a finance laywer in the age of digital media and immediate responses would be the most boring and stressful job ever...

Trust me, you would be right.

It's barely ten o'clock, the office has open an hour ago, and the tension is already at its peak here. The windows are open, people are running down the corridors, we're trying to pick on opportunities before they fade away, taken by the concurrence.

After all, the world of banking and finance is taken by sharks in a red sea who are just eating each other, not for pleasure, but for survival.

And it seems I've been swallowed whole by this world of numbers, graphs and logical thinking. It wasn't my cup of tea anyways.

Who am I defending anyways ? The victims of this cruel, capitalistic world, or just this bank I'm working for as a finance lawyer ? I don't even know anymore.

Hours seem to go so slowly, despite the activity. In the end, the story is repeating itself ; you're trying to get all the big clients to your bank, you get rid of those who can't pay the humungous fare you're taking from them every month, you defend your bank when it's attacked on court, and you go back to your office, glad your bank survived another day.

Because if it sinks, you sink with it.

There's this woman on the other side of the corridor where I'm working (I think her name is Linda, but I'm not sure), and she has practically the same position as me. The only difference between her and me, let's say, is that she likes her job. I hate mine, and my only wish is to get away as soon as possible.

« Why aren't you leaving anyways ? she asks with furrowed eyebrows when we finally take half an hour away from the humid dump place we call our workplace. Annie, I don't understand, you have a degree that could get you anywhere but here, I mean, you could get into counseling or stuff like that... Or work for a smaller structure. I think that you lack human relationships here, am I right ?

• I guess, yeah, I answer with a smirk, before looking back at my five-dollar salad just taken at the corner of the street. But the pay is good... and you know why I can't do this yet.
• If you're still thinking about this, she retorts, I'll fucking stab a bitch, really ! Why haven't you gotten over it ? It's been five years, for fuck's sake !
• I guess I'll never get over it, Linda... », I risk telling her name to look more personal, and I really hope I haven't messed up yet. « But this is a debt I gotta pay, one day or the other, and I can't leave this behind me as it never happened. Do you understand ?
• I guess, yeah... But don't beat yourself for your success. You've been more efficient than anyone else in the office for the last ten years, so keep your chin up, and you'll see your efforts pay off, in the end ! »

I guess her name is Linda, since she hasn't corrected me. She just leaves the table, tapping gently on my shoulder, in an affectionate manner. I believe she understands me, the only problem being, I don't really consider her as a friend. Not when we're in a potential competition for the promotion that will be available for one of us at the end of the month, when the senior finance lawyer leaves to retire in a nice town in Maryland with all the money he has earned during his life. I'm not complaining, by the way ; just stating a fact in a country where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

And I know I should even shut the fuck up when you know I'm on the « good side » of the equation, in the end. Among the lucky rich people who don't have to sacrifice everything they have to put something on their plates for dinner.

And this feeling of stealing from the poor to give to the rich won't go away. I am barely justifying my whole existence and career for one reason. A reason that's been going on for the last five years and which will never go away. A deed never paid, that's still on my conscience.

I finish my day as I started it, in a hurry, trying to always make more profit than the day before. At five in the evening, eventually, the offices closes, and everyone's getting back home. Everyone's telling their colleagues goodbye, see you tomorrow, with smiles on their faces, because they are just excited to get back home, away from work, I think I understand that by now. But that's the lot of everyone working in this field, am I right ?

As I'm walking down the parking lot to get in my car, I take my phone, to check my personal texts and missed calls during the day. Seeing nothing, I open back my purse to put it back in, when it starts vibrating. Martha. Cassie's mother. Oh God what happened now ???

« Ummmmm... hello, Martha, I suddenly stutter to answer her call. What's going on ? It's been a while, right ?

• A little bit, indeed, she answers sadly. I have bad news, Annie... very bad news. Cassie's gotten into a car accident... and the doctors don't even know if she's going to make it or not. »

I didn't expect especially good news from the Millers, whose family was friends with mine since Martha, her husband Jack, and my parents were in high-school together. But the situation seems very dark back in my dear hometown. Not waiting anymore, I leave suddenly, taking my car, packing a couple of clothes in my apartment, and leaving immediately. Direction : Glendam, Michigan. Here we go.

1058 words.