TACKLING COMPETITIVENESS

Cynthia's POV:

"Bisi, you're amazing! What would we do without you?"

As I heard our manager praise the newest member of our work crew—and saw others nod in agreement—I felt my chest tighten and a medley of feelings flourish within it. Smoothly and swiftly, like I'd learnt to do ever since she came into our office, I expertly reigned in my emotions, before donning a look that to any busybodied observer, would be one of thinly hidden fondness with a generous helping of gratitude for our newest addition.

It was taking a lot of strain to keep the fake look on my face this time though, as the newbie lapped up praises she didn't deserve. So immediately I saw an opportunity to, I took excuse from my boss to head home for the day—after all, we'd finally been able to bag the Heavy-bundle contract we'd been working on for weeks. And while I knew that in typical 'Boss Tomi' fashion, he would want us to go out and celebrate, I wasn't in the mood to spend another moment with a suck-up who pretended to look abashed and pleasantly surprised at the same time—while she simultaneously basked in the streams of seemingly never ending praise. I scoffed covertly (making sure no one was watching as I did so). She was so irritating!

"I don't deserve all these… yen yen yen." I thought to myself as I mimicked her obviously fakely accented voice in my head. Who was she trying to fool with such bogus acts of modesty?

She hadn't even done much! I thought, sneering inwardly.

It was the truth. If anyone else had been the one to give the final presentation that was meant to seal the deal, they'd have done as good a job as she did. And even if they couldn't, I was so sure I'd have been able to.

Maybe even better. A part of my mind stated matter-of-factly.

It wasn't pride. It was just the unarguable reality. After all, I'd been working here far longer than she had. Casting my annoyed thoughts aside (I really couldn't care less if they praised the newbie or not), and with a breezy but slightly-louder-than-usual, "Goodbye loves! I'm so sorry but I've got a place to be at urgently.", to my coworkers, I strode out of the room with the confidence I had been praised for on countless occasions by the same people that now seemed to only sing Bisi's praise.

The sounds of "Ah Ah, Cynthia! Just like that?" and "Okay dear. Do take care!" mingled with many other greetings—all of which I mentally brushed off my back (Two-timing traitors—the whole lot!) as I turned to smile at them once more in feigned apology, before stepping out of the office. Exhaling deeply the moment I crossed the threshold of our firm's main door, I brutally stomped on the hurt that was beginning to ravage my insides, unwilling to look further into it. I was about to stop a taxi when I heard someone calling my name as they moved with speed from within the firm towards me. Eyes narrowed and mask fully back in place, I waited. I would know that voice anywhere! And while usually it was one that would soothe me, I was so sure it was going to only end up getting on my nerves even more today.

Mentally steeling up and praying this intruder wouldn't stay long, I lifted my eyes (and head really) to look at the man who had come to a halt in front of me. And squinted in anger as the sun's punishing rays pierced my eyes. Dare was too tall for goodness sake!

"Hey Minx (The annoying alias was his unyielding, unaccepted nickname for me). You left in such a hurry. You're heading home right? How about I drop you off?"

Warily eyeing him, I accepted. After all, it wasn't weird for Dare to drive me home—and though I had a bad habit (reflex actually) of rejecting his 'assistance' everytime he asked, he on the other hand, was already used to it. At least the way he smiled when ever he held out the door of his car for me—regardless of my glare—told me and our co-workers who were usually coincidentally around to observe, just what he thought of my refusals. For him, they were like water rolling off a duck's back.

Persistent was the word I'd use for Dare on a good day. Unfortunately, this day was anything but. And right now, he was a plain annoyance. But I knew him, and I knew agreeing to his demand and sending I'm-not-in-the-mood-for-mindless-talk signals would bring a quick end to further probing. And that, was exactly what I was going to do. With my smooth smile back in place, I hopped into his car and sat upright, allowing him shut the door beside me.

Dare's POV:

I'd always been drawn to Cynthia from day one, and while I hadn't been in love with her back then (despite what our nosy colleagues might have thought), I certainly was now. And if there was one thing my persistent, "pathetic, and totally unrequited" (at least to my coworkers, friends and only family member) pursuing-slash-longing had taught me, it was to know when she was moody or not mentally okay and was trying very hard to hide it.

Her bouts of strange mood swings and fake facial expressions seemed to have begun when the new girl, Bisi became a part of our team. And as outrageous as it had sounded back then and still did now—a fact I was sure everyone would agree with me on—I had a feeling she felt threatened and was reacting defensively because of that. At first I'd written it off as side-effects of my having an almost 'stalkerish', absurdly imaginative mind and partially-requited feelings, but with her reactions today, I was sure my hypothesis had been correct.

I had seen the scoff and sneer she'd tried but failed to hide when she thought no one was looking—it was amazing how she still had not figured out yet that I was almost always looking at her. I thought, grinning to myself as I walked back to my side of the car. The look she had given Bisi had been one of loathing disdain and acerbic withdrawal (knowing Cynthia the way I did, a mental eye roll had surely accompanied that). In fact, I was certain if I hadn't been looking at her at that point, I would have missed the surly look she had thrown her way.

In expected Cynthia fashion, I understood that she would have planned on ignoring me on this short car ride. Too bad I wasn't going to give her the chance. Chuckling lowly, I muttered a brief apology and shook my head to show her I hadn't been laughing at any thing she could understand, when she turned to me—most likely to subtly ensure my mental state was still at an acceptable level.

Riding out of the complex at a sedate pace, I said a shotgun prayer to God for wisdom as I prepared to take the bull by the horns. Since I knew how close her house was, I understood how impossible talking while driving would be. So I decided to take a longer but calmer route, hoping that the ambience would enable her talk and air her thoughts.

It didn't.

She is such a stubborn woman. I thought inwardly. Strained by the tense, awkward silence.

"Cynthia… we have talk, don't we?" I asked plainly, knowing she'd smartly rebuff any other approach. Bringing the car to a crawl, I turned and was met head on with a stony glare that was sure to put Medusa's stare to shame. I felt myself freeze and my resolve shake before I swiftly recovered again (she could be really terrifying at times—not that it had ever stopped me though). It was for her own good and she needed help, I reasoned. And though I knew there could be a severe backlash for me, if there was a chance she'd be able to be like the Cynthia of before, I was willing to take it.

"You've been off lately. And don't you deny it." I quickly added before she could disagree. Going straight to the heart of the matter, I hit the nail on the head.

"It's Bisi, isn't it?" I asked, already sure of the answer.

She froze then. Her expression flickered and I glimpsed a bit of flustered abashment on her features before she closed off again mullishly. Sighing, I looked upwards before continuing, unsure if I'd even be getting a reply from her.

"Cynthia… do you feel threatened by her?" I asked softly, still staring at the roof of the car.

"You know you don't have to be. You're amazing in every way. And Bisi is too. She's a great lady and... "

'That's the problem!' she finally blurted out, bringing my words to a surprised halt.

Equal amounts of shock and passion surged through me as I stared at the woman I'd pined after for more than a year. She looked absolutely livid, like I'd offended her in the worst possible way. Her eyes leaked out intense hurt and betrayal as she stared at me angrily.

She looks so beautiful. A part of me thought, even as I brutally crushed it's tiny, unappreciated suggestion and with discipline gotten over the years, turned my thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"That's exactly the problem! You guys are always going on and on about how amazing Bisi is." she continued shouting, and I could see that whatever had been plaguing her, she'd had it up to 'here'.

"I used to be the one people asked for help in the office. I used to be the one closing the deals and being appreciated." She said, her voice finally receding in volume and strength.

"Back then, Boss Tomi would never stop singing my praises and encouraging me, telling me just how pleased he was to have me around and how lighter the burden was for him now. But these days, it's like I've been tossed aside." she'd lowered her head now, and it was clear she was ashamed.

Did she feel disappointed that she felt this way? I wondered.

"It's just… I worked so hard till I was finally recognised in the office."—turning to face me once more, she continued. It was like now that she had found an opportunity to vent, her mouth wouldn't stop releasing the monologue of her heart.—"You know how hard it was for the others to acknowledge me, Dare. Everyone's first impression of me back then was a haughty, insolent lady who thought herself above others. I know it was my fault too. But I went through a lot to change and be better. It took me months! But somehow, I managed to do it—I managed to become useful to everyone."

I nodded slowly, because though I already knew all these (I practically stalked her for goodness' sake), I knew she needed to vent in the presence of someone who wouldn't condemn her.

"And then, she came out of nowhere. And in mere weeks, everyone had warmed up to her and I found myself fading into the background. Truthfully, I don't mind the fact that people like her, Dare. After all, I'm aware of the fact that you can't be liked by everyone all the time. But the fact that it's the special set of people I've worked so hard to stand out to... "

"It scares you, doesn't it?" I finally questioned softly.

After staring at me for what felt like a whole minute, she let her eyes fall to the ground before she replied even more softly than I had.

"Yes. It does." and I could tell it took a lot for her to admit that.

"She's doing things that took me months to do in mere days and with such ease too. When I see her smile at any worker or even at me, I see what I wasn't when I was employed. What I had to struggle to become. And it hurts, and I'm scared." she confessed.

"Because if she can do everything I can and without much struggle, then where does that leave me? What more would I have to offer?" she asked, her entire face now a picture of dejection.

That was when the full understanding of what had gotten her jealous struck me. Cynthia had always seemed like the cold, unresponsive sort when she came in, but along the way she melted and we got to find out just how supportive she could be. It was also an unarguable fact that she was the most committed worker. And though she didn't always state it, she'd come to take us as her people. And for someone who found it difficult to open up so easily, it must have been a great change for her. The thought of her place being taken must have left her feeling insecure and completely replaceable, hence the feeling of betrayal, I reasoned.

"I know it sounds petty." she muttered. "But I just can't seem to help the way I feel around her."

"It's not actually. I understand you. But really Minx. Bisi could never take your place. She doesn't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"You're special to us—in your own way. I mean, it's true when you came you were obnoxious, slyly rude, had a huge ego, always made Modupe cry with your acidic wit, shut everyone out…" —I intoned, counting on my fingers as I playfully listed her former wonderful qualities.

"Okay, okay! I get it Jhoor!" she said, giggling.

I let out a low chuckle too and exhaled lightly. Thank God it worked. She was smiling again. I thought.

"But you're different now. You learnt to open up (though some of us—I in particular—wished you'd do so just a bit more. I thought to myself), use your wit to make others laugh and not make them the butt of your jokes, and show care to others. And though you might not know it, we all noticed. And we were touched. The memories we've made with you Cynthia, these more than anything, are what make you special to us. No one can take your place. No one has to. In fact, the other day when you had to travel home to see your sick Dad, everyone couldn't stop commenting about how different the office felt—they were also very thankful that you now had Bisi to help you out with stuff. Do you understand now? They're more grateful for Bisi because of you—'you no longer have to bear the brunt of the work', is actually what everyone thinks. And it's one thing that makes them appreciate her more. Because she's easing a precious friend of a great chunk of her workload."

Cynthia's POV:

I blinked, blatantly stunned by the information Dare was pouring on me. I'd never bothered to think of it that way. Whenever I'd seen someone smile at Bisi and compliment her, I'd somehow always just concluded that she was trying to replace me. But if what Dare was saying was the truth, then…

"I feel so embarrassed... " I moaned, absolutely mortified.

"I've been so cold to her ever since she came, and I've never been able to stand her at all. She never said a bad word to me or acted haughtily." I finally admitted to Dare and myself. Now that things were out in the open, it was clear my thoughts of her had been based on envy and nothing else.

Turning to Dare, I asked once more to confirm—not caring that my usually confident voice now sounded small and childlike.

"All you've said… about how you and the others really see me. Is all of it really true?" He looked at me tenderly and I tried to ignore the thumping of my heart (now was so not the time!).

"Every word." he promised. I felt so relieved. Guilty too at my horrible treatment of Bisi. But I decided then and there, that I'd make it up to her from now on.

"Let me show you something." Dare continued. Then he put his hand into his shirt pocket and brought out his phone. Opening the Bible app on his phone—which I offhandedly noted was a message version bible—he began. It was a wonder how he managed to sneak a sermon into everything, I thought. But I didn't mind—actually, I never really did, and to be honest, I found it sort of sweet.

"Ah ha! Here it is!—he said, grinning impishly—"This was the scripture I read this morning during my quiet time. Who'd have thought it'd minister to you too?" he said as his eyes crinkled with his wide smile.

I looked into his phone with him. The cursive font of his Bible (something I always teased him about) clearly sharing the Holy words it contained:

"It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on.

This isn't the first time I have warned you, you know. If you use your freedom this way, you will not inherit God's kingdom.

But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.

Legalism is helpless in bringing this about; it only gets in the way. Among those who belong to Christ, everything connected with getting our own way and mindlessly responding to what everyone else calls necessities is killed off for good—crucified.

Since this is the kind of life we have chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold it as an idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts, but work out its implications in every detail of our lives. That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original."

—Galatians 5:19-26.

I sighed as I read the words. I was a Christian too of course, but I'd never really read this scripture with this version. I was more of a stick-to-the-KJV-with-its-old-english girl—something Dare had chalked up to my weird love for historical things.

And though I knew that jealousy wasn't necessarily a good thing, seeing now that unneeded rivalry was born out of a life that always tried to get it's own way, filled me with the certainty that I wanted it gone.

Repeating the final sentence aloud,—which now seemed to be on repeat in my head—I turned to Dare and smiled widely:

"Each of us is an original."

"Thank you D." I said sincerely, making use of the nickname I gave him during a fond moment and rarely spoke out loud.

"You're welcome Minx." he replied, smiling brightly, as he pulled out of the lonely sidewalk he'd parked into and shot out unto the main road, the speed of his car a clear sign of his

new mood.