I Wanna Be The Very Best!

Xander was a person of many routines; some, useful for keeping life running smoothly and some just made sense in his own internal world. Habits offer relief; like having the same number of towels at all times in the bathroom; or having his pencils always arranged by size. He was well aware that these habits exerted additional time on his part, but he would go to great lengths to maintain and reinforce the borders of his comfort zone. The bricklaying of his habits raised the walls higher – there was no leaving the comfort zone.

And as his coffee break, followed by late dining episodes with Taisa increased in frequency, he chalked it off as a new routine that made its way into his comfort zone. Just another brick laid.

Checking his watch, he realized it was nearing 9 o’clock. Time for some bricklaying.

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“I just can’t with her anymore! And she just HAS to be the coordinator for my personal performance project! Which I’ve mentioned before, has become the bane of my existence! At least with my cultural and historical dissertation, I’m pretty set. Aaaaah, I just want to crawl in bed and never get up for 100 years. Can you put people in cryo nowadays? I’d sign up for that.” Taisa derailed from her designing woes for the 5th time during her post-work walk with Xander. Not that he was very bothered about it; he had started to become accustomed to her meandering speech patterns.

“As always, your lack of focus is most likely what’s making you lag behind.”

“Sometimes, I think all this effort is and will be all for nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever amount to anything in the fashion world. I’m pretty good, but most people in my class have an edge over me; they did art school and tutoring since they were able to hold a pencil, not to mention that they didn’t get held back 2 years in Uni.” Taisa stared ahead dejectedly. “What’s the point in even trying?”

“Based on that logic, you would end up not doing anything at all in life.”

Taisa rolled her eyes in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. The thing is, if you don’t have some certainty that you’re gonna be very good, especially in a competitive industry, you might as well do something that you’re mediocre at but can get decently paid. Sometimes I think all the people in my life who told me to learn “real skills” so I can get a “real job” were right…”

Xander sighed while stopping at a trash can near a pedestrian crossing and pulled out a cigarette from his pack. As always, Taisa took a few steps back to stay away from his smoke.

“The job and the skills themselves are not the problem; the people around you are.” Only the clink of his lighter was heard in the silence created by his statement.

Taisa said nothing to his words, but there were obvious signs that he stirred some discomfort in her. Sensing her unease, Xander pressed on. “Almost any skill can be used to make a living, which, according to most of society, would be the main criterion of a “real job. There are jobs today that have no real functionality per se in the ‘real world’, but there is a customer segment willing to pay for it. Such as movie reviewers, social media influencers or whatever.”

“Yes, but you’d have to be exceptionally good or to have something really unique to – “

“Not really. Some skill and knowledge are required to some degree, yes, but it all comes down to marketing. How you market yourself and what you do, more specifically. Some of the most successful people in their industries are not necessarily the best at their actual ‘work’; they just knew how to make themselves, their skills or their products known to the right customer base, at the right time.”

Taking in his words, she did not seem entirely convinced. “But what if you’re bad at marketing?”

“You pay other people to do that for you.”

“That sounds like a solution only for the rich.”

“Then you probably become someone doing something really mediocre.”

“I feel you’re deflecting from the real answer, which is ‘You’re right, Taisa’.”

Feeling as if he would lose this argument if they continued further, he brought the conversation back to their initial subject. “My point is, you shouldn’t resign yourself so early on just because you feel you can’t beat all the competition.”

“Ugh, you still don’t get it!” Exasperatedly, Taisa crossed the street and right in the middle of it she turned around and shouted “I want to be the very best!” Xander caught up to her, cigarette still in hand, and they crossed the rest of the street together in silence.

“I’m not saying you can’t be, Taisa; I’m saying you don’t have to be.” The fuming Taisa was slightly appeased by his words. Over the past few weeks, Xander had noticed that her temper would flare up at random moments, but then subside just as quickly as it began. He equated the experience to a strong wave; he just had to ride out until it lost its momentum. Trying to swim against it would only make you lose energy and drown. He hated to admit it, but he had become a pro-level surfer of Taisa’s mood swings.

“I’m still going to do things my way…” She muttered.

“I’m sure you will,” he said while flicking his bud.

The vibrating of her phone went unnoticed as it was nestled between the many receipts, notebooks and design sketches in her bag.

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“... and everything is, like, super-super-sized! Food, highways… boobs!” Victor had only been back for two days but his USA-induced hype had not died down one bit.

“I’m sure your eyes were aaaaaall over those highways.”Taisa snarked while she took another bite of her pizza.

“ Aaaaw, you don’t have to be jealous, Tai,” he cheekily grinned.

“Me? Jealous over sprawling lanes of concrete? You think too lowly of me.”

“C’mon. You know I think the world of you! You’re sassy, witty and good with your little drawings of yours…”

Taisa’s mouth twitches a bit. “Are you referring to my designs?” she did not mean to let the sharp edge of her tone be so noticeable.

“Yes, yes. How’s your performing project coming along?” asked a flustered Victor.

“My personal performance project”- she articulated forcefully –“is coming along…slower than expected, but still, progress is being made.”

“The old bat still giving you grief?”

“It’s not only that… I sometimes look at some of the other students’ projects and just feel like my stuff’s been made by chicken feet nailed to floorboards under the light of a new moon.”

“Just make it so you get a passing grade, get your degree and be done with it already.”

“I’m not that keen on half-assing the one thing I’m passionate about.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously to make her point clear to Victor.

“Passion is nice and all, but you really should have something to fall back on in case…”

“In case I don’t make it? Your faith in me is overwhelming.” The knot in her throat and in her stomach made her abandon the last of her pizza slice.

“I’m just saying you should have a backup. Don’t put your eggs all in one basket, that sort of thing. I’m just looking out for you as a friend.” At the mention of the word friend, Taisa bit her tongue so hard she started drawing blood.

“Yeah, thanks for your concern.” She swallowed the metallic taste bitterly. “I should get going now.”

“But you’ll miss Max…” Victor’s eyebrows creased in disappointment.

“My shift starts in half an hour. I’ll see you guys another time. Send him my regards, will you?” Taisa got up and put on her jacket.

As she put down her money for the pizza, Victor locked eyes with her. “Hey – Keep the faith.”

She smiled sincerely at this. Vic knew that a Bon Jovi reference would always brighten her mood. She sometimes hated just how easily she could be swayed when Victor did damage control for his not-so tactful actions.

“Always.”