Chapter 412 - Mr. Goodwill (1/2)
The building, smaller than the others, was also the most populated. Each floor would be divided into different sections for other Agencies and organizations trying to break into the market. The atmosphere inside was exhausting, suffocating with a lingering odor of sweat. The receptionists wearing short clothes sat informally trying to lose the heat in their conversation. The shirts were unbuttoned to allow the sweat to dissipate. Whether it was intentional or not, that slight detail raised their s.e.x.u.a.l appeal. It didn't help that the light would reflect against the skin as if a cleaned window.
”Excuse me,” said a large man peering over the dark-brown counter.
”Yes?” returned the leader of the gossip group, her body was on the chubby side and her clothes weren't enticing – rather, it was covered from top to bottom.
”I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Goodwill.” They recoiled upon hearing the name, slightly and not enough to make a scene.
”Mr. Goodwill,” repeated she giving a once over through her square glasses, ”-let me check.” The tapping of keyboard cut amidst the noisy background, a pair of scissors rattling on and on until, ”-take the elevator to the third floor; someone from Apexi will fetch you.”
”Thank you,” he nodded as a form of courtesy.
”Who was that?” inquired another group coming in from behind.
”Don't know,” was the last heard of the conversation for the elevator came in view. The hallways sure weren't the best, the cleaners must have been slacking. One could see moist, green, and repugnant, growing far into the corners where wiring linked the many rooms.
'Could have been cleaned,' thought he facing a weird layout of buttons; the push to close function seemed to have been broken as it was the only one to not be lit. Thinking nothing of it, the fingers moved to select floor three.
”Hold the elevator,” waved a disorganized lady wearing uncomfortable heels. Her feet perpetually seemed to reject each step.
”Thank you,” panted she with unlevelled glasses, the short sprint had her body in ruin. The clothes were at a point one could refer to as bed-time ware. She entered first then came four 'fashionably' dressed boys.
”You've saved me again,” said she gathering her breath.
”It was my pleasure, my lady, what floor?”
”The third,” said one of the boys – darker clothes and a more reserved stance than his comrades.
”Very well,” the tight cell grew tighter and soon, the doors would open to a factory – a modern-day plant. The immediate exit was of a semi-transparent wall with posters of Aceline and other idols. Behind the blurred wall; one could see figures, numerous figures going back and forth working, handing paper works, and even shouting. Granted the voices never made it out to the relatively quiet corridor; the body language painted an 'X' in red.
”Can I ask a personal question?” inquired the troubled-lady alone and at a slower pace.
”Depends,” said he.
”Oh…” her fingers fidgeted as if it was important; the aura she gave was of a stray animal.
”I'll try my best to answer,” added he with a sigh.
”Thanks,” her pitch shot up, ”-I've never seen you here,” the tone lowered to a point between respectful and friendly.
”It's my first visit,” he replied whilst giving his full attention, ”-what about you?” her gaze would often wander everywhere but his face.
”I w-work here,” her speech slowed, ”-enough about me, what about you? Did you come to audition as a potential idol?”
”No, no,” he chuckled, ”-far from it. I'm too old for such a line of work.”
”Do apologize for my informality, but thee look very young,” the slight smile of her eyes showed sincerity.
”I'm very much honored to be complimented by a diligent lady such as yourself.”
”What makes you say that?” she coyly asked.
”Tis was the first impression I got,” smooth and honest, ”-you focus on others. I saw how thee acted upon the papers being fluttered by the wind – thee was the first to jump and fetch. Might I add, thy appearance, not that I mean it in bad-spirit, is lesser of importance; it showed the dedication to thy craft. I admire people who are that focused, it's a very good trait, Miss?”
”Oh,” she stumbled trying to give a hand-shake, ”-Miss Alexia.”
”Staxius Haggard, well met, my lady, well met,” following the greeting, he helped her to carry the unorganized paperwork.
”The walk felt so much longer,” commented she resting against a counter.
”It sure did,” he returned the files. ”Can I trouble you to show where Mr. Goodwill's office is?”
”Mr. Goodwill,” she pointed to the left, ”-over there – should be easy to spot since the office is bigger than the rest.”
”Once again, tis was a pleasure,” he nodded to head deeper in. 'Alexia, a manager of some sort. I'd figure she's new and is in charge of the boyband. Maybe new talents affiliated to Apexi, who knows?' Uninterested yet, Staxius walked in confidence across the workplace. A trip made by many guests and potential sponsors amidst a factory of mindless workers. Blue hue glowed from the computers, the mouse clicked away, while the keyboard typed away – some exhausted, some on the brink of death, and others flat-out sleeping; nothing about it struck as being in order.
”Mr. Goodwill.”
”Who are you?” returned a chubby man slightly annoyed.
”Excuse me,” muffled a petite figure who scurried out with arms covering her chests.
”Staxius Haggard,” returned he strongly.