A rare smile
Aaron sighed heavily and let the pen fall onto the desk. It has been a long day at the office and all this signing and stamping of documents had left him exhausted. He spun around with his wheelchair and took in the sight that spread itself in front of him through the wall of glass – the young man was currently on the 20th floor of the 32-floor building that held his name. Aaron was in his big and luxurious office.
Outside were located three more sister buildings and the name on them was clearly visible – Coppenberg Inc. Aaron Coppenberg sighed yet again and got up onto his feet. Tucking his hands into the pockets of the jet black pants he wore, he stepped closer to the window and looked around.
All this majesty, all this wealth, this prosperity – it was all his. At the young age of 19 he had inherited the company from his father who died in a car crash the same year. It had been six years from then, and Aaron had turned Coppenberg Inc from a little-known-company to a famous software giant that ruled the stock market and was second-to-none other.
And yet, the young man was not happy. He stared at his reflection in the glass – dark circles underneath his eyes, messy hair, loose necktie… He stared himself down head to toe. He used to beam with happiness and joy when he was younger, the wide smile everyone knew and loved about him rarely left his features and he was he loudest kid growing up. And now all that met him in the reflection were void and unemotional eyes and lips squeezed firmly into a line.
He needed a break from all this.
He grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, took his phone and other belongings and hurried through the door. Everyone had already left and only the cleaning lady for the floor was there. Good. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.
After he exited the elevator, Aaron found himself fumbling with the keys of his Jaguar wondering whether he should get in, or go for the subway. Judging for the latter, he spun around and went for the nearest metro station that was just outside the building.
Aaron was propped onto one of the wall of the train. He looked at the people around him – some were fidgeting with their phones, others were reading a book or reading from a Kindle, some were looking at people just like him.
“What careless people”, he thought. “Honestly, I wish I were like them”.
The train stopped and he went out. The young man was walking with hands in his pocket, thinking about everything when something yanked him out of his thoughts. It was a young guy, seemingly looking 20 or 21, singing and laughing with his friends as they got inside the train. The boy passed by Aaron for just a fraction of a second, but his energy was so captivating that the young Coppenburg found himself looking back to him. And the boy never noticed. The door of the train shut and the young red-haired boy was gone.
Aaron stood there for a second. He turned around to continue his way home when he noticed – a guitar case left on the bench where the loud company came from. Aaron looked around; seemingly no one else noticed it. He sat down, looked the case over and it took him a minute or two to figure out how to open it – he had never done it before or touched anything musical, for that matter. Inside laid a wonderful shiny acoustic guitar with all kinds of messy papers in the case. He let himself roam a little and found paperwork from university and, oh, wait… an ID card from university with a picture stating all the information Aaron needed to return the case to the red-haired boy. Aaron shut it up and locked it.
Getting up and taking the case with him, a rare smile graced Aaron Coppenberg’s lips.
To be continued…
