The Archives

The silence lasted about ten seconds although it felt much longer. Then everyone laughs, a grating mocking sound. Cedric, her older brother and the family’s responsible heir laughs first. "Work? What do you mean work? You couldn't even finish university. What exactly are you qualified for?". 

Alara’s gaze shifts to Cedric, her eyes darken at his words, her mind trails back to a memory of why she hadn’t finished university, back then she was in her final year about to graduate when she was pulled out of school because funding Diana’s music career was far more important. It seems they had forgotten but back then, it was Cedric who dismissed her from being upset claiming getting a degree was useless and a waste of time for her especially if she was just going to end up at the family company. She remembered how wronged she felt back then crying and arguing about how she was so close to graduating how they had enough money to fund both her schooling and Diana’s career and they had almost wavered but all that went down the drain when Diana fainted, Cedric had called her ungrateful, mother had said the family name would take care of Alara, The same guillotine g that they had used for years to make her bend, and it worked, Alara felt selfish maybe they truly couldn’t afford it, maybe she was asking too much of them, with all those thoughts weighing on her conscience, she apologised to them. She later discovered that the reason they had done this wasn’t because of their ability to fund her schooling but because they were worried Diana’s music career was getting too stressful and they needed to appoint someone trustworthy, acting as her personal assistant to look after her. Knowing Diana she probably put the idea in their heads in the first place all so she could further humiliate Alara.

Pulling her out from her thoughts of the past, was the shrill voice of her mother joining in on the mockery. "Maybe we should let her answer phones and speak to customers" Her mother laughs mockingly "oh no no no... she'd scare customers… with such a cold and unladylike expression, honestly she has no poise… nothing like Diana." Mother sips her wine with delight “honestly i don’t know how i gave birth to the both of you and you are still so different i mean honestly” She beams proudly and points her glass to the direction of Diana “one of you is an elegant star” her beam faded as she pointed her glass to the direction of Alara, “ while the other is a depressing embarrassment”. 

An embarrassment that's what mother used to call her for years and years, It was such a key part of her vocabulary that now she said such words without flinching, why would she flinch afterall there had never been consequences for calling her own daughter an embarrassment. That’s just how it was, in her eyes Diana was the sun while Alara didn’t have a single trait that could rival Diana. 

Diana gives her fake sympathetic smile, stroking father’s arm. "Father, maybe we shouldn't pressure Alara. She just got back and besides, She's been through... a lot….." she paused a long pause, Her voice soft, everything was said with fake kindness, that makes everyone harden, angered that alara was making Diana worry, Diana’s gaze flickered to one of smug superiority,the kind that would have made Alara cry and throw a tantrum in the past, Only this time  Alara doesn't react, She keeps eating, She doesn't even look at Diana, Then she quietly and coldly says,"I'm speaking to Father."

Everyone goes silent. For the first time in what could only be described as their entire lives… She interrupted Diana. Even when they were children and Diana would cry and lie on Alara Alara never interrupted Diana, she would wait for her turn to speak to explain herself, often times that turn never came, but she learnt from an early age that to stay on a somewhat good side of her family it was better to wait than interrupt. 

Father studies her, her face, her cold yet bored expression,He notices something different. There was No crying, No pleading, No fear, Not even naive determination, Just...nothing.

A poker face and an icy apathetic gaze, almost like she doesn't care whether they say yes or no. More than her past childish antics, this unsettles him. His gaze fixed on her as He finally said, "Fine." his tone forcing casual disinterest.

Everyone looks shocked, Cedric’s fork slips out of his hands, and Diana raises her lip slightly in irritation.  "She can start tomorrow." Father continued, he was barely able to get the word out before Mother objected immediately, placing her wine glass down firmly "Absolutely not. Felix what in God’s name are you thinking. She'll embarrass the family." Father leaning back into his chair  ignores her antics and waves mother off with a flick of his hand, his other hand rubbing his temple as though he is fighting off a fast approaching headache. "She'll work in archives, No clients, No meetings….. If she messes up or fails, she'll leave on her own." 

Alara could see the pattern already, Father was not protecting her by giving her an easy job no. He was hiding her, hiding her competence, hiding her credibility for company assets and shares, That way the cocky cedric had nothing to worry about, no threats to his position as company heir . As for Diana she wasn’t too upset afterall this was a slave job, like being an intern indefinitely. But this was what Alara wanted. In fact she had counted on bei9ng given this job. Afterall she would have full access to the Archives. Where old contracts live. And certainly where company secrets slept. “Thank you father, I will do my best” she said without any enthusiasm, maybe a hint of humility. She abandoned her meal, getting up and walking upstairs to her room in the attic, she took off her turtleneck dress that rubbed roughly against her tender scars putting on something lighter, raising up a floor board she pulled out her old phone, no texts or calls from anyone, sitting in on the wooden cold floor, she opens an unpopular poetry website her account under the username: InkAfterMidnight, her platform was on of the biggest on the site with a little over 500,000 followers, a notification appears from the site “congratulations, your last poem has surpassed one million shares and reads” she ignores it. She is pleased with the news but she has a different goal in mind right now. Reaching for the same hoodie that she had worn back from the facility she pulls out a folded dirty napkin from its pocket, containing a poem she had worked on for weeks scribbled in blue pen, she types the words into the site. Titling it: ‘gravity’. She hits the upload button and closes the site, then looks at herself in the mirror, and says to herself with a small smirk “so it begins”.  

Unknown to her in that very moment. Across the city, sitting in a record studio, someone else is reading her poem, “she finally uploaded again.” The man says, skimming over the words of the poem. “Whoever writes these poems is downright amazing” then closes his tablet, stretching his fingers before getting to work “this is about to be so good”