Estelle

Estelle hunched behind the front desk, trying to ignore Millie's laughter as she chatted with yet another employee. Something about a new restaurant downtown. Technically, receptionists weren't supposed to socialize during business hours, but rules seemed different for people like Millie. The first hour was always slow anyway.

Drumming her fingers against the polished desk, Estelle caught her reflection in the computer screen - mousy brown hair pulled back too tight, oversized sweater hiding her frame. Why had she taken this job? She didn’t hate it, exactly, but nothing about it felt right. While Millie floated through conversations like a social butterfly, Estelle stumbled over simple greetings. If only something could change.

The lobby doors swung open, and Estelle glanced up to see Jared (who she knew as John) striding in with Haley. The two looked tense like they had finished an argument. She started to look away but found herself drawn back to John’s face. Her fingers cracked involuntarily as a memory surfaced.

John. The name settled in her mind like it had always belonged there. She remembered him finding her eating alone in the parking lot. A part of her wanted to ignore him when he knocked on her window, but rolled it down. It was the best decision in her life. She could still remember his gentle words about how no one would value her if she didn’t value herself first. Such a small moment, but somehow it had changed everything.

Something shifted in Estelle. It was slow at first before it picked up momentum like a wave. Her spine straightened as her shoulders pulled back with newfound confidence. She didn’t notice her baggy sweater morphing into a stylish blazer, or her tight bun loosening into elegant waves. The clicking of her sharp nails was music to her ears as she smiled, not feeling the fresh coat of lipstick marking her lips.

All she knew was a sudden surge of warmth as she raised her hand to wave at the approaching duo, her smile bright and assured. For the first time in her life, she felt exactly like who she was meant to be.

“Hey Haley, hey John,” she called out, letting his name linger on her tongue like honey.

John's hand froze mid-gesture toward Haley. “Do you know—” He stopped and blinked. “Wait, you know Haley?” Another pause as his eyes swept over her like he was seeing her for the first time. “I’m sorry, have we... have we talked before?”

Estelle tilted her head, her radiant smile never wavering. “Talked before? Oh, John,” she said, his name rolling off her tongue like a melody. “You always stop by in the morning and we chat about whatever comes to mind.” She leaned forward, noticing he was starting to look green. “Are you feeling alright? You look ill.”

“I need to go.” The words tumbled out as he spun toward the elevator, leaving them behind.

“What’s gotten into him?” Estelle turned to Haley, genuine concern creasing her newly confident features. But something nagged at the edges of her memory. Hadn’t John always been a bit of an odd loner who sometimes disappeared for weeks? No, that wasn’t right. He’d always been steady, reliable. Hadn’t he? Isn’t that why everyone wanted to be around him?

Haley scratched her head, frowning at the elevator doors closing on her confused and frustrated friend. “I have no idea. It’s like he doesn't remember we’ve been friends.”

“I hope he’s not coming down with something,” Estelle murmured, but the words felt hollow. For a fleeting moment, she caught her reflection on the computer screen. Has her hair always been styled this way? When did she put lipstick on? Was that makeup on her face?

“Yeah, see you later, Estelle,” Haley said with a distracted wave as she headed for the elevator.

Watching her go, Estelle smoothed her fashionable dress, then paused. For the briefest moment, something felt off about it, but that was ridiculous. Her closet was full of clothes like this. The dress, the perfect makeup, the styled hair - it all made her feel like herself. Didn’t it?

Glancing beside her, Estelle watched Millie hunched over her desk and typed away on her computer despite the light workload. Something flickered in Estelle’s memory. Hadn’t Millie just been chatting and laughing with someone? No, that couldn't be right. Poor Millie had always been socially awkward, completely missing basic social cues like how she paused to pick at her braces. What kind of manager had thought she'd make a good receptionist?

Estelle’s eyes traveled over her coworker’s outfit with growing dismay. The garish yellow shirt did nothing for Millie’s complexion, and that green and orange polka dot skirt pooled around her feet like a circus tent. Her hair looked like it had been styled by a tornado. It was such a wasted potential

But a wave of sympathy washed over Estelle. Just because Millie didn't value herself didn't mean she was beyond help. After all, hadn't someone once shown Estelle the same kindness?