Everyone thinks she is beautiful, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect smile; sweet without being cloying, the perfect voice; as if she scripted her own words, even when she cursed (and after a couple of margaritas she would outcurse any of you) every word carried that gravitas.

Everyone admires her, she smiles sincerely and is really happy to see you, she hugs you even when it’s the first time. She punctuates her sentences with your name,when she says it you know she is talking to you, she listens and the best part, she remembers. The junior manager who thinks himself better than you, she remembers and would give him a nickname that would stick, you won’t be able to stop thinking about her advice. So obvious in hindsight.

Everyone is fond of her. You remember meeting her for the first time, and she remembers when she met you for the first time. An art gallery, she would remember what painting you stared the longest and the little anecdote you told her.

Everyone but me.

She smells like burning plastic.