Breaking Free

The surface vaporized, tar melting under the scorching sun. While inside a GTR, hand on the steering and gearbox; a mirage on the horizon set the pace for his heart. A steady beat filled with rejuvenating efficiency. A race.

The cracking blue sky scattered with cloud buds, several other cars; Ford Mustang, Mitsubishi Lancer, and a whole lot vibrating under the sound from their exhaust pipes. Cheer and bass fluidly set the tone and mood in the small town.

Strapped in, Joe muted all the noise and cheer. He needed to win the race; he needed one reason to prove his skills. Driving race cars had become part of him, and that race could be his ticket to entering the big leagues.

Joe massaged the steering wheel, revved the car like it was his adrenaline-filled heart, and pulled his focus away from the skirts and bottles all around except on the road. He focused on the road.

“Joe!” said Katana.

The tree by the road housed a variety of birds who didn’t love the noise. They cursed all day and all night.

“Joe!” said Katana.

Three! Two! … One!

“Joe!”

“Yoh!”

“What got you thinking like that?” said Katana, puzzled with his friend. “You’ve been out for –

“Nothing! I’m –

Fantasizing.

Joe and Katana worked on the same floor. Their building adopted a policy of letting everyone know the rank and salary range of any employee just by knowing what floor their offices lay on. Theirs was third, where all the people from R&D, and Marketing and Legal shared. The new CEO came with several changes that hoped to increase productivity.

“That can’t be nothing,” said Katana, scoffing at his friend, “did you sleep well last night? Or did you sleep at all,” widening his eyes with curiosity.

Shaking his head, Joe pulled one more thought from his imaginary race. He saw rubber burning as tires scrabbled the tarmac, dust flying on the horizon. Beautiful, he thought, “I don’t know, just a boring day!” responding to Katana who’d turned to face him.

The offices were arranged in rows and columns. Employees were grouped in fours, each bunch solving a specific task. The innovators of R&D were teamed with content developers and graphic designers from marketing and legal. This way, invented ideas will pass through all the necessary departments before being taken to the executive.

If it can be made, it should be marketable and legal. The new slogan came with the CEO who ensured everyone read those words while in the office. On two walls, graphic designs of the new slogan were written, with one of the walls sitting behind Joe. Their four-man infantry squad sat at the right corner, secluded from the rest because of the artificial tree a few feet from their working round table.

“Was that an idea you were generating?” prompted Katana, a practicing ambitious lawyer.

“Not really,” dismissed Joe. He knew where Katana was headed with the conversation. It always boiled down to criticism and laughter.

“Come on Joe! You can’t be shy, can you?” throwing his arms in disappointment. “We’re here because of you!”

When implementing changes, the new CEO asked Joe where he’d like to sit. As an employee of the month, he got the privilege of choosing the best spot before everybody else.

“Are you thinking about the new commercial?”

Mute, Joe stared at the pen on his table, visibly brainstorming. Their corner office had a view of the city across. Joe could see a handful of high-rise buildings; and a couple of others below his floor.

“As a matter of fact, yeah,” agreed Joe, pulling closer to Katana, “I was thinking, what if we drop the written script?”

Squinting, Katana begged for more.

“I feel like we’re saying too much and people connect with emotions more. No one remembers what someone said, they remember the feeling, and then …” nodding gently, begging Katana to let him finish, “…and then from the feeling, they remember the words said!”

Scoffing, Katana wet his lower lip, saying, “Too many cooks?”

“What?”

Repeating, “Too many cooks?” said Katana, expecting an answer from Joe whose face was soaked in confusion.

“Too many cooks spoil the broth,” answered Katana, “There’s a lot of you talking inside there,” pointing at Joe’s head.

“What does that even mean?” wondered Joe, shifting his focus on the workstation next to them, right after the tree. Their CEO prompted everyone to imagine a classroom for children about three years. Their classes were filled with graphics, signs, and desks of three to four pupils sharing the same reading desk. That’s how he wanted the office to be; allowing employees to interact with each other like in children’s classes to spur motivation, community, and creativity.

“That script you want to dismiss is neatly written. Revised many times! Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Feeling. People associate more with a feeling.”

“You’re trying to tell me you’ll remember this conversation because you felt it,” laying back on his seat, still facing Joe. A couple of mustache hairs complimented the sideburns on Katana’s head, making him look like a secondary school math teacher.

“I’m sure you won’t remember all the words,” responded Joe, “you’ll remember how crazy I sounded!”

“And crazy is a feeling!” ridiculed Katana.

Baffled, Joe drew his eyebrows together, questioning Katana’s choice of perspective, “Crazy is a feeling.”

Hushing a giggle, Katana blocked his nostrils, placing a hand on his mouth while laughing. “You speak feelings now. Words are outdated!” dismissing his friend, “I don’t know why I bother sometimes.”

“Crazy is both,” readjusted Joe, “but we recall feelings more!”

“And it’ll help how?”

“It’s a rally. People jump, dance, scream; people do all sorts of things at a Rally. That’s what the commercial should feature.”

Katana wasn’t following. His face showed it all. There were traces of doubt and inattention hidden in his eyes.

“Listen, the words are great. But it shouldn’t take all the sound. Instead of “vibrating air” “mad fun” and “rolling wheels”; why don’t we show them all? Have a car screech on the start line, a bunch of guys with bottles alongside beautiful girls screaming and cheering. The focus is on one car – probably one of the brands we work with – and let a professional driver do their thing. We have cars, we have drivers; what we’ll be getting out there is the cheering squad, and boom! There you have it!” tapping the desk in finality.

Processing, Katana imagined the events as his attention shifted to the bird by the window. Joe had a point, but it took Katana two days to draft a script for the video. He’d been given the theme, and he composed statements and phrases to align with the upcoming event.

“You’re fantasizing,” said Katana, “how would you explain the event to people? We’re not here to shoot rolling wheels and outdoor clubs!”

“You’re not getting the point. Part of the words will be on the video of course. No one will be saying anything; just words on the screen but the sound is cheering, revving, and music.”

“No voiceover!” amazed Katana. It was his voice Joe gladly dismissed after begging the production team to let him speak.

“I don’t think people even listen to the event Mc during a rally event. Everyone is,” signaling with his hands, “out there!”

“No! Think of something else,” challenged Katana. He didn’t want to look at Joe. Katana then pulled his chair back to its initial position, took his laptop, and continued with what he worked on prior.

“It’s like you’re saying the whole commercial needs to be scrapped. Do you know how much time it took to make the voiceover and the script? Three editors work on the script alone; then the voice guys; and all that effort down the drain. Just like that!” lightly banging the desk, "Simply because we recall associate more with feelings."

The bird by the window pecked the glass, curious at its reflection.

“I don’t think you understood. We’re about driving traffic and sales. We help sell emotion! That’s where the money is at!”

“Money!” joined Steve, he worked in production, “where’s the money at?”

“Joe wants to make your job a living hell,” responded Katana, “He wants you to shoot another commercial; this time with cars and smoke,” abhorring Joe’s idea, “can you believe that?”

“Joe?!”

“It’s not like that,” he defended. “I just –

“What’s it like Joe? Won’t production shoot another video?”

Cawing, the bird by the window slipped its neck through the glass and windowpane. Joe loved opening a small section of the window for fresh air and listening to the birds who lived on the tree by the road. He never understood why they chose that tree instead of another in the forest.

“Perhaps you should take time and listen to your thoughts,” said Katana, signaling to Joe there was a bird behind him, “your friends are ready to chat.”

Turning to check, Joe shook his head, discarding his idea internally. The reception wasn’t expected, and he wasn’t in for an argument with Katana.

The bird posed for Joe, blinking twice and flying off after Steve stretched his hand to touch Joe.

“What’s your idea, Joe?”

“Nothing,” replied Joe, embarrassed.

“He can’t tell you anything,” plastered Katana, murmuring, “How can we scrap off the whole commercial!?”

The other employees concerned themselves with tasks given by the admin. Joe, Katana, Steve, and Salim were assigned the rally commercial. They were supposed to create a proposal and prototype video for the commercial that displayed budgeting and other figures before being approved. Everyone was waiting for a response from the supervisor before continuing to the next phase.

“Did you have anything to add?” said Steve, “I’m yet to share the proposal with the supervisor.”

Turning, Joe paused at Katana, absorbing his disappointment and anger. Katana loved working with the guys doing voiceovers, and that was the third time he had done it. Taking it away from him felt unnatural even though it wasn’t his job. It was Joe’s job to make sure commercials were engaging and interesting to the majority.

“Forget it,” he then told Steve, “It’s not a great idea,” allowing his friend to enjoy the moment. The written proposal wasn’t that bad. “We can work with that one!”

Katana smiled under the radar; Joe was riddled with questions he couldn’t find answers to. Was he doing the right thing? Joe played with the idea that perhaps he was sabotaging himself by visibly undermining his ideas.

“On second thought, “imparted Joe, “Do you agree we relate more with emotions than words?”

Scratching his beard, “Hmm!” Steve looked at Joe for a few seconds, looked at the table a few more seconds, and said, “I don’t really know. Explain further. I need context!”

“What would you say if I told you that our experiences, memories even; are grouped based on emotions? That happiness is connected to a whole lot of experiences that share the same emotion. When happy, the emotions evoke those memories. You start remembering the last time you were as happy!”

“Mmhmm.”

“And that’s why we need a commercial that evokes emotions. Displaying words and a voice-over is basic. I thought since it’s a rally, let the sound of cars revving, people chanting; everything, take over!”

“But we already have a voiceover done!” interrupted Katana.

“That’s a great idea actually,” resolved Steve, seeking the attention of Salim who drowned in his world. He wore his headset, listening to music as he updated the monthly content plan.

“Listen to this, Salim,” started Steve, pushing him a little bit, “Joe has a new idea.”

“What?”

And Joe explained his idea with clarity once more, adding the video edits he envisioned, not worried about what Katana would say later on. They came to work and everyone ought to do their best. Even if it’s fighting for the same spot.

“And that’s how people operate. They recall a feeling more than words.”

“The more, the better,” exclaimed Salim, “this one is better. Way better.”

“Okay, let’s add all of them,” said Steve, “but this one will be our main proposal and the other our plan B,” looking at everyone in the eyes for approval, “We must take the trophy for the best group this year!”