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REBECCA
My steps slow down when I leave his room to ponder a little bit. It gives me time to get my actions straightened out and reconcile my memories. When I saw Jordan clutch a framed photo the night we danced, I could have sworn I recognized that image.
It flashed for only a few seconds before he noticed me and turned it over, but as long as it was open long enough for me to recognize it, I was able to save the image in my head. The face rings so many bells, I don’t even know how to go about it.
Now, suddenly, it seems more apparent to me that Jordan is familiar. I’m talking about familiarity in the sense that I’ve seen him somewhere other than him being my bodyguard. Something about that picture and Jordan merged creates some kind of long-lasting image in my head.
It's like when you keep getting déjà vu of a particular face that you can't place. I can’t tell where I’ve seen that person or who they are, but I know that, for a fact, they and I have come in contact Obviously, it’s not by much given the fact that my memory about them is hazy.
When I get to my room, the first place I head to is our company’s photo albums. It’s the most logical place to start searching because if there’s anyone that I don’t know but remember, it would start from work.
It's one of the only places where I come across people that I must deal with for a short period of time. I breeze through the photo albums with my mind zeroed in on what I’m searching for. With the face in my head, I don’t need to slow down so much, and I flip the pages with speed, searching for something that matches what is in my mind.
Dark hair, million-dollar smile, and a next to tan skin. I should say it didn’t take me long to find, but in my head, it felt like an hour. My brain settles as the recognition begins to trickle in.
For a very long set of pages, the face wasn't in the album. However, digging into pictures taken two to three years ago, it becomes more and more frequent, almost like the person is a worker in the company. An extra look around in company archives reveals his name: Rayan Ali Ghulam.
By nomenclature, he isn’t in any way related to Jordan, but by the face, the resemblance is uncanny, scarily so. It almost looks like this is exactly how Jordan would turn out to be 30 years from now. Could this really be Jordan’s father, or is that even a possibility that this is at least a relative?
I toy with the idea of asking him but somehow later decide against it. I remember when I came into his room, he hid the picture from me, meaning that more likely than not, he wouldn’t want me to interfere in that part of his life.
Memories of Rayan, at this point, start to trickle in. I probably never even talked to him in real life, but back then I was still doing my master's program and I would come to the office regularly to meet with dad.
There are times when I see demand that I can now ascribe Rayan’s features to. I try to spot when the photos stopped just so that I can get an idea of why they are no longer recent, and to my shock, Rayan died almost exactly three years ago.
In fact, there’s an entire page dedicated to his funeral, and the only reason I missed it while flipping back was because the picture wasn't boldly pasted enough for me to notice.
Now that I think about it, I don’t recall going to the funeral of anyone of this sort and given how important a position he seems to have held in the company, that raises my brows a little. The more I delve deep into this search, the more suspicious it gets.
Before Rayan’s death, our company was doing solid numbers in the oil industry. However, I must say it’s not nearly as much as we're doing now. It's also around that time I recall my father not being around for almost a year.
I need to know more about everything that happened and how it went down for me to fully make sense of what I’m seeing. If Rayan had died, why wasn’t I informed? Along with my master's program in the university, I was very frequent in the company under the tutelage of my father in leadership.
In fact, the more I acclimate myself to the past, the more often I begin to come across Rayan in my memory. I used to remember him as one of those people, kind of like how I only began to know every board member when I entered power.
Under my father’s tutelage when I was not a worker in the company, every single one of them had faces blended into one, and I could tell neither apart, save for Alan.
Alan was practically a godfather to me, so I knew him quite well. In fact, he was more a tutor to me than my own father because my dad was busy.
Hence, I go to bed with a big question mark on my mind.
Who exactly is Rayan Ali Ghulam, and what importance does he hold to my Jordan Hill?
Alan would be of the biggest help to me, so he’s the person I’m going to meet tomorrow.
The next dayI wake up, probably way too early… and that is if I even slept at all. All through the night I tossed and turned and engaged my mind so much that if I had any sleep, it was very little.
Probably before Jordan wakes up, I’m out of the house because I don’t want to see him until my questions are answered. My reason for leaving his room yesterday felt so fickle, and so if I’m to face him again, I should at least have something proper to present to him—something like an answer.
I realize how bad an idea it was to leave so early because by the time I get to my office, the sun hasn't even come out yet. To this end, I must wait in my car for security to begin the official opening of the building.
In this short time, I’m able to get some sleep. Good enough sleep, in fact, that despite my showing up early to the office, I’m late for work. My plan was to have Alan show up earlier than usual so that we could discuss the possibilities that I have in mind. My lateness, however, has me postponing our meeting, much to my slight frustration.
Between the time I have to get some things sorted at work and when I meet Alan, my mind wanders to last night, when Jordan and I were together. I don’t know why we stopped at just oral play, and why he only did it to me.
I would have loved to reciprocate, and to take things past that. It’s been so damn long. Jordan made me feel fresh. He treated me like I was a snack and like he was hungry, and honestly, I’ve never felt that wanted in a long time.
I don’t know where we are now in terms of relationships, and it's very hard to put a tag on it.
