I Fake Smile

My mouth curves up from the sides, becoming a grin that deceives all but those who know me.

The skin in my temples wrinkles and my eyes squint to match the strength of the smile.

A deteriorated row of teeth manifests itself, but not too much so as to avoid embarrassment.

“Thank you, have a great day,” is what my voice says after the consumer has their way.

My heart is beating fast, and my body feels tense, almost as if something will attack me.

The consumer’s eyes try to lock with mine but I keep squinting. I won’t give them that.

This dance goes on for seconds, and I sense one of the chains loosening. They’re gone.

Now comes the important part.

A smile cannot be erased right away. It must go through a lengthy transition that pleases them.

Slowly, I lower my mouth muscles and widen my eyes. The smile needs to appear genuine.

I move my head slightly so that nobody can truly focus on my features. I need to be a blur.

In a minute or so, it is safe for my face to be as close as it can be to my mental state: vacant.

“Cling cling” I hear. The bells announce the coming of yet another consumer.

This one wanders, looking around without a clear intention, glancing at me every now and then.

Their steps grow louder in my head and I contain my breath for a few seconds, avoiding sound.

My temples wrinkle once more and my face feels tight. “How may I help you?” goes my voice.

“Just browsing,” says the consumer in a casual tone. There is nothing casual in our relationship.

They are infallible and right, always right. At their mercy is my livelihood, my health, my sanity.

They keep walking around, their presence disrupts and backs up my countless assignments.

At the sound of their voice, I need to hurry to their side. Their needs go above mine.

They talk about the wares, about their opinions, about their achievements. I never asked.

I go “Ooh, ah. You’re right. Interesting.” My words change in order to simulate a real dialogue.

The consumer is engaged and happy because they are in control. They have all the power.

I can feel a hot sensation in my head, as if my brain was melting. My body has remained tense.

Under the night sky, I arrive home. As I undress I look at my desk with unfinished projects.

My mind tells me to keep at it, to work on my dreams in order to escape this hellish cycle.

“You’re not tired, you’re just being lazy,” I hear in the back of my head. Maybe it’s true.

I sit down and contemplate my half-done crafts. My mind wanders to a void. I’m not really here.

In the dark of my room, I stare at my phone. Everyone is living their best life. Everyone but me.

I scroll with an occasional pause. My eyes are starting to hurt so I put the phone away.

I close my eyes but I know it’ll be a couple of hours until I actually fall asleep. I toss and turn.

I’m finally comfortable. My brain now teases me with the promise of a better tomorrow. It’s a lie.