PIAYING THE CEO'S GAME

I squinted my eyes at the homepage of my website as if it was the first time my eyes were meeting with the too-girly pink colors. Adorning the cover of the homepage right atop the hideous pink background was a smiley black-haired lady obviously in her mid or late thirties. The warmness and trusting look her eyes bore gave her the insignia of an Aunty figure. Exactly what I should be. Exactly what I should look like.

But then again-typical me had stolen the identity of a woman I had never met, came up with a fake life and made money off her. Not like I felt like a criminal for doing so. I would simply put it as, making a living off a woman who didn't use the gift of her kind looks to earn some real bucks. No one was getting hurt in the process.

Well, no one was badly hurt in my little cooked up digital world, stored in my laptop. At least not physically hurt.

I finally opted for a pink theme and gave it a final glance. The appearance of my website didn't really matter and wasn't something I should be bothering myself about. I was the best at my job and even if my website looked silly and wacky, I would still have tons of clients in my mailbox trying to hire my services.

Leaning my head more comfortably on the head of our almost worn-out cushion, I reached for the half empty potato chip bag beside me and shoved the long tasty piece of awesomeness into my mouth one after the other. This business had taken me four whole years to grow and I would pick it a million times over my former jobs. The basic rules are just as simple as anything else. Keep a close tab on your targets, play dress up and get what you are hired for.

Of course, there is always the risk of getting caught and locked behind bars for stalking, cheating, stealing and impersonation of identity. These used to give me shaky feet but not anymore. I would choose this ten times over working at other people's homes scrubbing the fucking floors until my back hurts, babysitting lousy, rude spoilt children-or working in hospitals as a cleaner, cleaning other people vomits and shits.

Or working with a narcissist who made me work all day long, barely sparing me a meal or two. Or helplessly watching me and my little sister go door by door around the neighborhood, asking people to buy our awfully made homemade cookies with lies that they were donations for a charity cause.

I was done with that pathetic life and I promised myself nothing would take me back there. Never again.

The buttons of the security lock door beeped, followed by the door swinging open and close. I raised my gaze in expectation to the one person I shared my small studio apartment with.

'College is a disaster." My sixteen years old sister stormed in, flinging her backpack carelessly on the empty space beside me on the cushion. She bent to rip her sneakers off her feet and continued to grumble, her full wavy translucent brown hair covering half of her face. 'Assignments. Tests. Projects. I am tired of all of it. Tired!"

JoJo and I were two opposite looking sisters. She had long wavy translucent brown hair which contrasted with my ashes grey shoulder length hair. She had sapphire eyes, model-like body, with tall legs, causing her a 5'7 height that I felt should have been mine. I on the other hand had eyes the color of coffee and cream and was what'd you would call slim-thick. I had medium breasts and a thin waist and my wide hips that held a surprisingly big butt and my height was 5'5, which always caused JoJo to sometimes feel I was the younger one.

'Really?" I abandoned my laptop and gave full attention to her drama, folding a hand over my bosom. I bet I looked like a responsible grown-up adult right now.

Well, of course I was an adult and responsible. I am 22 and taking perfect guidance and responsibility for my baby sister. How responsible is responsible enough?

'I need a break, Kenzie." She cornered the open kitchen and gulped a cup of water she fetched from the fridge.

I laughed at her words. A break? Really? Kids these days. It was funny how we always talked about this but she still manages to bring up the topic in one way or the other.

'Taking a break is not a choice, JoJo." I mentally applauded myself for keeping my tone and reply casual. Inwardly, I prayed she doesn't push this any further. There was definitely no way I would keep my cool for that long.

'Why not?" She was standing right in front of me now, her arms crossed, mimicking the position of my own arms. I unfolded my arms, breaking free from the uniformity. Turning back my gaze to my laptop screen, I sighed.

'Because you can't take a break, JoJo. You have to be able to finish college before you can do that."

'Aw, come on, Kenz." My sister stomped her feet to the ground in objection. 'Give me a chance. I mean, look at you. You dropped out of college and yet, you are doing so well."

I cringed inwardly at the reminder.

'Can we talk about this some other day?" I looked up at her, my voice already weakened by her protests. 'I made chicken curry for lunch."

But she doesn't budge. Her sapphire eyes grew cold and was fixated at mine.

Oh, yea. Just what I need today.

'Do you think I am going to end up like you if I quit college?"

I shut my laptop and let out an exhale. Good lord, help me so that I don't rip her careless mouth off her face if she doesn't stop talking already.

But she doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

'Are you afraid I would become what everyone says you are?"

'Shut the fuck up, JoJo! That is enough! Please, would you? Jesus Christ!" So much for euphemism and keeping my cool.

'I am not going to stop until you give me a break. Give me a fucking break!"

'No swearing, JoJo. That is an inappropriate act. Especially if you are a lady." I locked gaze with her and she raised a brow at my words in a sarcastic and inquisitive manner.

Like, didn't you just cuss?

'You know, sometimes, I wonder if you are making me live the life you couldn't have. This is my life, Kenzie. Not yours."

Growing up, I have come to realize the deadliest verbal battles are not those fought with raised voices but with low melancholic tones, and icy glares, hard and sharp enough to prick through your heart and shatter your soul to pieces. Luckily, I was stronger than any of the weapons JoJo threw at me.

'This conversation is over, JoJo." I packed my laptop into my arm and made my way to the bedroom we both shared.

'I am not going to end up like you did. I will not be the kind of girl everyone knows goes out every night to please men for money!"

I stopped abruptly like a video played being paused. It wasn't my first time hearing a baseless lie about myself from others, but hearing it from someone this close to me made a whole difference.

'Even though I don't believe them." JoJo added and I shut my eyes at her confession. 'Because my sister is a hardworking lady who works too hard to have a boyfriend. I am never going to end up like that."

I couldn't control the small smile that broke free from my frozen face but I managed to blink back the tears that were beginning to weld up in my eyes.

'Burgers and Chips at Ms. Jones?"

I could envision her face brighten at my words.

'Yes."