Mr Nobody

Chapter 8

Melissa glided through the bustling hall, exuding an air of elegance in her radiant red dress. Her natural beauty shone effortlessly, captivating the attention of those around her. Men couldn't help but steal glances as she passed, drawn to her magnetic presence.

Seeking respite from the persistent attention, Melissa skillfully maneuvered through the crowd, hoping to find solace in a quiet corner. 

The hall mesmerized her with its vibrant ambiance, adorned with captivating artworks that adorned the walls. Diverse talents converged in this space, with artists passionately discussing their creations and eagerly presenting price tags to potential buyers. 

Melissa, too, had the privilege of showcasing one of her own paintings. However, plagued by self-doubt, she wondered if her art would find appreciation amidst renowned masterpieces.

 After all, the allure of owning an artwork crafted by a celebrated artist often overshadowed the potential of undiscovered talent. Who would boast about an artwork created by an unfamiliar name?

In the midst of the gathering, Melissa spotted Sasha, her boss, engaged in animated conversation with a multitude of people. Sasha's infectious laughter filled the air, indicating that she was truly enjoying herself. 

"So far so good," Melissa whispered to herself, acknowledging the event's success.

Suddenly, Queenie's voice shattered her thoughts. "There you are, Melissa! I've been searching everywhere for you."

Melissa sighed inwardly, aware of the looming confrontation. Queenie, filled with a mixture of irritation and perhaps even envy, criticized her for being late. 

"Mrs. Phillips entrusted you with something so crucial, and this is how you repay her—by arriving late," Queenie chided.

Melissa's patience waned; reasoning with someone like Queenie would likely be futile. Besides, she had not been late at all. She had spent the entire day in the hall, returning home only briefly to change her attire before promptly returning.

Before Melissa could offer any explanation, a scream pierced through the air, immediately followed by a resounding slap. All eyes turned towards the commotion, drawn to the epicenter of the disturbance.

"What's wrong with you? Are you blind?" the aggrieved woman berated, her voice filled with fury.

"I apologize, miss. It was an accident," the waiter responded, maintaining his composure despite the slap.

Earlier, a waiter had unintentionally collided with a passing guest while carrying a tray of shimmering drinks, resulting in an unfortunate spillage of champagne on the woman's gown. 

In response, the woman unleashed a torrent of insults, oblivious to the waiter's sincere apologies. His calm demeanor aimed to defuse the situation, yet it failed to deter her verbal assault.

"Do you have any idea how much this dress cost? Even if you toil away your entire life here, you wouldn't be able to afford it. And now, it's ruined because of your sheer incompetence!" she raged.

"I am truly sorry, miss," the waiter reiterated, his politeness unwavering. However, the woman persisted in her verbal assault, unrelenting in her demand for retribution.

Melissa, observing the scene from her secluded corner, felt a surge of empathy for the beleaguered waiter. His sincere remorse and unyielding composure touched her deeply. 

How could she stand idly by while he endured unwarranted humiliation, especially when the entire crowd had witnessed the incident unfold from the beginning?

Driven by an unwavering sense of justice, Melissa took a decisive step forward. Ignoring the prying eyes of the onlookers, she made her way towards the confrontation, her determination serving as a shield against doubt and hesitation.