Painful Smiles

Mr. Louis nodded, ‘Agreed!’. He stood and left his plate, ‘Agreed!!’ he said again before leaving for his chambers. Michael sighed, so he’ll be going to the company tomorrow?

Michael stood up too and left for his room, ‘Clara, don’t have much friends before I return. I know five years is awfully long though’ he thought to himself as he walked.

‘Did you enjoy the soup?’ Mrs. Peniel appeared in front if him. He nodded and continued to his room. ‘Rest up, tomorrow you’ll be going to the company’ her voice rang out behind him. He nodded and walked faster.

Memories of that disgusting places made him shiver. He hated the women workers especially. Why did they have to dress and speak like that? If only he could avoid going but he just made a deal.

The next morning, Michael tried to stay in bed for as long as he could but his father’s blasting radio woke him up. Why was he still using the 1990’s radio again?

Oh, it reminded him of ‘old times’. Very annoying.

He slowed down his movements to buy him time but it seemed his dad was really enjoying staying at home. Or really enjoying destroying his plans?

Michael finally gave up and dressed to go to the company.

His father was really quiet throughout the drive. The driver glanced from his mirror from time to time to be sure the man was still in the car.

Meanwhile, Michael read the introduction speech his father had written down for him to present that day. At a board meeting. His dad was really serious.

A twelve year old attending a board meeting? Didn’t those things have rules amd stuff?

He tried photocopying all the words to his head. The only part that stuck was ‘To the executive team, I am Michael Louis, who’ll from now on be in charge for all sales and market gains of our company’. He didn’t even know what he’d so with the sales and market gains. More maths.

Did his dad know he scored a C in his last exams?

‘We’re here’ Mr. Louis announced as he slammed the door. The driver glared at him as he left. Should he break the car door because it was his car?

Michael quietly came down as he recited the last lines of the speech. He wasn’t sure how many got into his head but he just recited. His dad should have given him such a job the night before and not in the car.

He looked up from his paper when he heard an advert. It was coming from a screen from the walls building. A black car was on display. A new model, the Strike 5Q. He inspected the building. It changed a lot.

As he came in, it really changed a lot.

As it was a place where cars where being created, it usually had this reek of petrol and oil. Suddenly, the reek hit his nose but it was very faint. He realized that they had gotten in through the back building.

As they got deeper, some busy footsteps were heard. His father tapped on a button and a bell rang out. A door slowly opened and he walked in. Michael walked in with him.

Lines of cars were arranged left and right, different colors and models. A gasp escaped Michael’s lips when he saw the latest model, the Strike 5Q, this one was its red version and had stolen his heart. ‘Don’t be distracted’ his father called when he noticed Michael staring at the car.

Michael saw no worker was in sight yet.

Like an answer to him, a young man walked in. He wore a blue suit with its chest left open. Really unprofessional with his high punked hair. ‘Welcome, boss’ he said with a bow.

Also unprofessional, Michael thought. Like your ‘boss’ had a name.

The man walked ahead while his father followed, Michael tagged along.

Another door opened to reveal the busiest place Michael had seem in his life. Not only humans made the okca ebusy. Gadgets too.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

With mini cars transporting workers around the hall. Like mini cars, barely half a man’s height. It didn’t have a steering and steered on its own.

Using some link amd navigations. The workers on it sat there whilst writing some notes and pasting them on the cars.

‘Their strictly for the company, not for sale. It aids in movement around the halls’ his father explained to Michael. A hint of pride was in his voice.

His father began walking in the middle of the hall, the workers bowed when they met him and continue their work while the cars stopped when someone came in front. Smart cars, Michael smiled.

Majority of women were in mini skirt and had their hair dyed pink or white or blue. Pink and white in dominance. Michael was almost getting tired of the lack of unprofessionalism Bleu Cristal workers had.

A bold inscription of ‘BleuC’ was etched to the wall of the seemingly main hall. Another screen held cars on display.

His father turned towards another hallway. Michael sighed, the walking was tiresome.

A blonde lady walked briskly to his father and handed him a letter in an envelope ‘From the engineer, sir’ she said and left.

Another short lady came with a chart and began reciting the market flow for the past one month.

The only thing Michael could get was ‘The high demand of our cars had increased by 35℅ generally’ and ‘We had a market failure for car model Strike D4’.

The rest were like a rap song to him. His father had nodded all through to the woman. She bowed and left too.

Another turn towards another hallway made Michael stand still with a frown. A man rushed to his father hiding an opened box.

‘The car keys models, sir. Which one should we use?’ The man had a subtle Chinese accent.

‘Left’ housefather answered, barely looking at the box. The man walked away. Michael hastened his steps to his father.

Another blonde lady came with another chart, showing where their calls swell more. The US had the greatest number of sales. ‘Ah, Americans like cool and fast cars’ his father said with a French accent.

A brunette was at the end of this hallway. She bowed, revealing a delicate white skin under her thighs, and walked seducing to open the door. His father nodded to her while Michael eyed her.

He quickly closed the door shut when he got in.

‘So? Are you ready to do all those?’ his father asked, taking off his suit and placing it on the armchair.

‘Do all what?’ Michael asked back. If his father was asking if he wanted to do the executive job, then he could be honest and say ‘no’.

Mr. Louis sighed, ‘I just gave an intro’. Michael looked at him blankly. His father knew he didn’t understand.