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“How it going, Ronnie?” my boss, Oliver, calls out to me. “You got everything together for the report today?”
His words are sharp, his tone a little harsh, but that’s just the way he is. I don’t mind, I can take it on the chin, mostly because I have achieved my goal and I’m really freaking happy about it. I might have started here as an intern, working in the research room finding stories for the other reporters, but I’ve worked my way up quickly, I’ve made myself stand out, and that’s worked in my favor. Now, I’m an onsite reporter doing little snippets from location. I thought I wanted to be an anchor, the main face that people saw when they turned on the news, but now I think I might like this better. I’m not chained to a desk. I get to research, to travel, to meet new people. It’s amazing. In a way, it combines the theatre I loved in high school, and the English I loved in college.
I never thought I would make it this far, but I’m so happy that I have. This career is everything to me.
I think I’ve changed a bit to become this woman. I’ve grown up, become a career-oriented person, a workaholic, someone who dedicates everyone to her job. I guess I’ve become ‘Ronnie’, but I don’t mind. I like that person. It feels like the person I’m supposed to be. I go to fancy bars, I have grown up conversations, I eat nice food, and have meetings with really important men and women. It’s awesome.
I love my new home too, the house that me and Jordan bought between us. He might earn more than me because he’s working his way up rapidly in his career too – he’s already become a Lieutenant which is virtually unheard of since he hasn’t been there long – but I’ve contributed a lot too. Also, I’m the person there most of the time, so a lot of the time it feels like it’s just my house. But I don’t resent Jordan for not being here. If he was, I wouldn’t have been able to give as much of myself to my career and I wouldn’t be where I am today.
“All good,” I reassure Oliver. “Just the last few bits to tie up and I’ll be out of here. Which camera operator is coming out with me today? It’s a biggie, interviewing the Mayor,” I say in a teasing tone.
“You’ve got Christopher, is that okay with you?” I shrug. They’re all fine really. “Good, because…”
“Oliver!” Michelle, the girl who’s probably my biggest rival in work, but who’s actually my friend, grabs onto my boss’s arm. “Have you heard the latest? There’s a new report coming from Afghanistan…”
Immediately, I feel my whole-body tense up. I might be adjusted to the fact that Jordan isn’t around much, but that doesn’t mean I like where he is. The other people here try to be sensitive to the fact that I don’t want to hear much about Afghanistan because I can’t ever know if it involves my man or not, but sometimes w
hen a major incidence happens, like whatever this is about to be, it slips through the cracks and I’m forgotten about.
I guess this isn’t the best place to be if I don’t want to hear about the biggest US war happening right now.
My shoulders hunch up around my ears, sickness swirls in my stomach. I feel all light and dizzy like I might pass out. This isn’t good news, it’s never good news, which means I really need to brace myself. I don’t get to speak to Jordan much while he’s stationed because obviously he has to keep his location a secret, and one day I desperately fear that I’m going to learn about a station blowing up, then finding out that it’s him.
Excuse yourself, my brain screams at me. Get away before you hear something awful…
But I can’t move. My limbs have turned to lead, I feel like I’m frozen to the spot. Luckily, or unluckily as the case may be, only a few words are getting through my shock barrier. Bomb, explosion, death toll…
I don’t know what side is injured, I have no idea what’s really going down, but I feel like I need to fall. My body wants to crumble and tumble to the group, but something is holding me upright.
“I… I have to go.” Somehow, I manage to stumble away, freeing myself from the shackles of Michelle’s words. “I need to erm, to go to the bath… to find Christopher, to get this sorted…”
But I go with my first suggestion and I head into the bathroom to catch my breath. I clutch onto the sink while the buzzing ever so slowly subsides from my brain. My breaths are ragged, my heart hammering against my rib cage, panic twisting in an ugly manner right through my body. I don’t feel right, I’m all messy.
Eventually, I drag my eyes off the white porcelain, and I see my reflection staring back at me. Sometimes it shocks me how much I’ve grown in a year, how different I am. I never have my hair spilling down my back anymore, it’s always tied up in a tight chignon so it doesn’t get in my face. I also don’t ever wear my casual tee shirts, sweat pants, leggings, and tank tops anymore. It’s stark pencil skirts, tight dresses, and blazer jackets all the way. I have to look the professional I am. I need to show the world that I mean what I say, it’s a part of the job. If the viewers don’t take me seriously, then I won’t be in a job for long enough.
Get it together, Ronnie, I remind myself. I will hear about the war, I just need to separate myself from it.
Another side of the job is to detach myself emotionally. I can’t get involved in anything that I’m saying. That should be the same for everything related to Afghanistan but it isn’t that way at all. I can’t turn my feelings off.
But I’ll have to. At least for a short while because I have an interview to conduct, one which needs to go well. So, as always, I buckle myself up, I push Jordan way to the back of my mind where I can think about him later on while I’m alone in that big, beautiful home of ours, and I gather myself up. It’s time to go.
***
“Thank you very much for speaking to me today, Mayor Smith,” I say in my most professional tone. “It’s been my pleasure. And now, back to the studio to get the weather report.”
We remain with fixed smiles on our faces for a couple of moments to give the technical team to move things over smoothly, then we relax as Christopher lets us know that it’s time to relax once more. My face falls, my aching cheeks are glad of the break, and I turn back to look at Mayor Smith, but he’s already pulled his cell phone out to scroll through… well, I imagine social media sites. That’s the norm for these people.
“Thank you,” I practically whisper to him. I don’t want to disturb him, I’ve gotten myself in trouble that way before. For some people, once the interview is done, that’s it. They don’t ever even want to look at me again. I suppose that could be offensive but I choose not to take it that way. “Okay, right well I’m going to…”
I push myself into a standing position and move over to Christopher. He’s giving me a frown which makes me panic at first, my brain spins over everything that might have gone wrong, but I soon see he’s frowning at the Mayor. I guess he’s taking offense to the rudeness which doesn’t trouble me one bit.
“Did everything go okay?” I still need to confirm this. Much as I act like I’m confident, deep down I still have a lot of insecurities. I’m so new at this, just because it’s been a few months, doesn’t make it easier.
“Yes, that was brilliant. You were a shining star as always. The audience will love you.”
I can’t help but laugh at his little joke. I do get on well with Christopher, much better than any of the others. Every so often, I wonder if it might teeter into flirting, but I won’t get caught up in it. Everyone knows about me and Jordan anyway, so he can’t seriously think anything will happen. It’s all just for fun.
“Good, good. And do we have a lot else to do?” I glance at my watch.
