Celia

Celia sat in her office, trying to focus on the client before her rather than the constant ding of the elevator outside. The glass wall facing the hallway made her feel like a fish in a bowl, even with the blinds offering some privacy. The glass door offered no escape from prying eyes. Just another reminder of her pariah status in the office - stuck in the worst location, on thin ice with management.

Jaxon Marson droned on about deliverables and expectations, but his words blurred together as exhaustion pressed down on her eyelids. It was barely 9 AM, but that’s what happened when you spent nights staring at the ceiling, wondering how your life had spiraled so far off track. She **** herself to sit straighter. Jaxon didn’t need to know any of that. All that mattered was convincing him she could do the job.

The elevator dinged again. Celia flinched at the sound, her eyes automatically drawn to the glass door. John burst out of the elevator, looking troubled. Something about his distress nagged at her.

John... When had she last spoken to him? Has she ever interacted with each other? The questions triggered a cascade of conflicting memories. They rarely interacted, she was sure of that. She was the office outcast, after all. But then why could she suddenly remember inviting him to movie night last week? The memory felt real. She can recall the pizza orders, living room laughter, and casual friendship with him and the other office people. But it sat wrong in her mind, like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.

She blinked, hard.

That couldn't be right. Movie nights? Friends? That wasn’t her life. She was Celia the outcast, the one they kept hidden away in this fishbowl office, counting down the days until they found a reason to let her go.

A movement caught her eye. Looking up, she noticed a crack in the ceiling tile and scowled. One more thing to deal with. She'd have to call maintenance, endure more judgmental looks.

“Did you hear me?” Jaxon asked, snapping Celia out of her troubled thoughts.

“Yes,” she said quickly, then almost winced at the defensiveness in her voice. She had completely zoned out... except, she hadn’t. She remembered every word about his struggling restaurant, how the food was excellent but customers were scarce. Just because she looked distracted didn't mean she wasn't listening.

She wiped at her tired eyes, unaware that each touch erased stress lines and dark circles, transforming exhaustion into vitality. “I can organize a team to create a marketing campaign for your restaurant. And, this is my professional opinion, but your business would greatly benefit from changes such as Topless Friday or your staff dressing sexy.”

Jaxon nodded, clearly pleased. His gaze drifted to her outfit, and she followed his eyes down. For a heartbeat, she expected to see the same dark suit she’d worn for months, a sign of her depressive state.

But that thought felt foreign, like a memory from someone else’s life.

Her, wearing clothes? Ridiculous. She made it her mission to showcase her body every day, to be seen and admired. And what better way to do that than to forgo clothes all together when she hit 20. Sure, she would still wear a coat and shoes outside, but she would rather be naked at all times.

That was why she’d specifically requested this office by the elevator - to be the first face people saw when they arrived so they could admire the sight of her before they continued on. She’d even had the blinds removed months ago, turning the glass walls into her personal display case.

Celia sauntered over to Jaxon, her hips swaying seductively with each step. She leaned in close, her ample breasts brushing against his arm as she whispered in his ear, “You know what else would draw customers in? A live strip show every Saturday night. I could even give you a taste of what they’d get to see.”

Jaxon nodded and Celia began to straddle him, the thought of calling maintenance fading from her mind. But even if she had remembered, the crack moved on the ceiling before disappearing into one of the lines between the tiles.