THE JULIEN PROJECT

8

Beep, beep, beep, beep...

The alarm is ringing. Instinctively, I put my hand where I think it should be and now, I’m disillusioned. I’m still Julien, with a very stiff morning form, if you know what I mean. Pushpins, why? Why am I not getting my life back? I’ve already understood a lot of things. Come on! This little game is starting to make me irritable.

I go to the toilet and easily control the first pee in the morning. Okay, that’s it! I’ve mastered this. I step on the scale out of curiosity. I have a heart attack when the weight stabilizes at 80.6. Then I realize that I’m a man and that this weight is correct for my height. I stroke my pecs, thinking that some women might like this body. Hell then, how would I go about it if this were to happen? Never mind! I address my masculine reflection in the mirror saying: “So, cutes, would you like to climb the curtain? Do you want to see what happiness tastes like?”

I burst out laughing to myself thinking that if a man told me that, I think I could pee in my panties (with laughter or with fear) before rushing off. Anyway, I’m screwed!

I run my hand through my hair, I have the puffy eyes of one who’s slept too much, the pillow marks imprinted on my right cheekbone and the growing beard. I’ll stop you right now, I don’t intend to shave at all. With my legendary skill, I could cut my neck vein and die on the spot without anyone noticing. So, it’s Niet! I’m desperate but still, and then this beard gives me a certain style. I like it. It’s soft.

I take a look in my closet to choose my outfit. A suit, a white shirt and a slim dark grey tie will do. Anyway, all of my stuff looks the same. Grey, white and more grey. Only ties of different colours brighten up this moody wardrobe.

I only apply deodorant, thinking that I haven’t had a lot of activity since my last shower. I brush my teeth vigorously before tackling the delicate mission of hair styling. After a few minutes where I can’t achieve anything, I decide to leave as is. I don’t have to please anyone anyway. My boss is my best friend, I won’t get fired for a haircut and a badly trimmed beard, it’s the twenty-first century anyway!

It’s seven thirty-five when I leave my apartment, hungry but hungry like a wolf. Usually, I never eat breakfast, but being a man digs deep! I go to the nearest metro station and rush into the first train. I don’t look at anyone like I’m the only man on earth. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived. When I think that I usually come by bike when I live so close! I find it difficult to understand. And to think that a car is waiting for me in the parking lot is even more frightening! I’m consuming fuel when it’s so easy to take public transport.

When I walk through the door of the company, the charming receptionist winks at me with a warm:

“Hello, Mr Cutter. How are you this morning? Was your weekend good?”

“Hello,” I say, heading as quickly as possible to the stairs.

Just the sound of her voice gives me strange sensations!

“All good. See you later…”

“Maybe,” she said provocatively.

I don’t even answer her, scurrying towards our floor up the stairs four by four. When I arrive at the office, I immediately find my place. No one has arrived yet. I admit that it’s a little early, but it’s precisely at this hour that I usually arrive, always the first, around five minutes past eight. So, I have time to prepare coffee for the sales team, sort the mail, dispatch the freshly delivered newspapers, tidy my desk, prepare for today’s meeting. As Julie, I’m organized and conscientious. As Julien, it’s another matter. I don’t know where to start. I sit on my office chair and its adjustment doesn’t suit my height. I turn on the computer, which makes the usual startup sounds. I pivot in my seat, which I find very uncomfortable anyway, when a very pretty young woman, out of nowhere, stands in front of me, almost knocking me back.

“Hello, Julien,” she said with a small satisfied smile.

“Uh… Hi!”

I’ve never seen this girl before. I’d have remembered it because she’s so pretty, simple and sophisticated at the same time. Average height, brown bobbed hair, eyes a piercing blue, I’ve no idea who she is. She doesn’t move a bit and seems to be waiting for something. After a while she said to me:

“You plan to squat my cubicle for a long time?”

“Uh… what?” I stammered like a schoolboy.

“Julien, can I help you with something?”

“This cubicle is yours? Oh, are you sure?”

She looks around and replies:

“You’re in a playful mood this morning. You drank again this weekend and you haven’t recovered yet, is that it?”

I find her remark borderline insolent but I keep my calm.

“Ah, ah, miss… Uh…”

My eyes dart around the cubicle and land on a name plate.

“Well, Emilia... Let’s say I had a very particular weekend. Can you tell me where I sit, please?”

“Pfff... I swear! I work in an office of freaks,” she whispers loudly enough for me to hear.

Now, that’s too much, we should not push things too far. She’ll understand who she’s dealing with, this kitten. Well, if only I knew that myself...

“Listen, Emilia, it’s only Monday morning, I’d like you to adopt a little more pleasant tone if you don’t mind.”

Emilia stops in front of a glass door on which a small plexi-plate displays in capital letters: JULIEN CUTTER - DEPUTY DIRECTOR.

I almost suffocate in front of this inscription. Emilia turns on her heels and tells me:

“At nine o’clock sharp, as usual, for the Monday morning meeting, sir.”

I admire my office door. Damn, I’m a deputy director! Emilia is my assistant. I have a car, I have an assistant, I’m a director. At this point, it’s no longer amnesia, it’s madness, another life! From a girl to a boy; from an assistant to the assistant director!

“f**k, what’s this mess?” I say out loud, putting my hands on my head. I take small steps in my den. On the desk, it’s a total disaster. Heaps of files are stacked, I hardly dare to look at the one on top, on which a huge URGENT in red instantly makes me want to go to the bathroom.

Alright, okay! Let’s analyse the situation! I open the first drawer in which a small box contains business cards. They confirm my position as deputy director in this financial markets trading company. Already exhausted by so many discoveries, I collapse in my chair, adjusted to the right height this time, and turn on the computer. On the desk, the only decorative element is a small photo frame with a snapshot of Paul and me, in each other’s arms in the middle of a road with the giant letters HOLLYWOOD in the background. What?! Me in Hollywood with Paul! When? I’ve never left New York; I’m so scared to take a plane. So, to imagine that I was able to go to Los Angeles is just amazing. Sure, the dream, or rather the nightmare I should say, continues. When will it stop?

Outside, colleagues are arriving little by little. I recognize Jessica and Carlotta, my counterparts, two girls desperate to climb the ranks. And when I say ready for anything, it’s for everything! Thinking of that, my thing wiggles. From an instinct from elsewhere, I give myself a big punch in the crotch, which, of course, is the dumbest thing there is to do! Breathless, I get up and start to hop on the spot with both feet to bring down my testicles! It’s dangerous to be a guy, damn it! I don’t even notice that everyone is watching me.