For as long as he could remember, Aaron Miller had been fascinated by fantasy. While high fantasy typically came to mind, he appreciated all subgenres, even the lesser-known ones like dieselpunk Any form of media that involved being as far away from reality as possible captivated him. Since childhood, he had been drawn to the unknown and the endless possibilities that fantasy offered. This fascination had grown to what some might call an obsession. He tried to keep it in check, but it was all he could think about, even when he should have been working. Much of his money was spent on posters, miniatures, books—anything to get a burst of dopamine that could numb his mind from his thankless office job.

Despite his love for the fantastical, reality had him tethered to a thankless office job. He was a thirty-something-year-old man, stuck working at a paper company, spending his days in a small cubicle. The job didn’t pay well, and by the end of the day, he would rather strangle himself with his own necktie than admit he loved working there. He wasn’t suicidal, far from it; he was just disappointed in himself for not achieving more in his adult life. Still, he chose to work for a company that saw him merely as a number instead of pursuing a job with his degree in Geology.

When he wasn't overworked, he spent most nights painting miniatures for his tabletop roleplaying games, immersing himself in the worlds he created. Fascination would set in with him as he made backstories for his characters and names that were no mere random generated name. Every original character he made had a purpose and a theme regardless if it was meta or a complete mess to function as anything but unhelpful to his party.

His family repeatedly asked if he had found someone, not understanding his reluctance to engage in a dating market he found oversaturated and impersonal. The family line would end with him unless he somehow found an elf princess or a demon from the underworld.

Like that would happen.

“Dude!” A seasoned gravelly voice from above snapped Aaron out of his hazy daydream. “Have you finished inputting those numbers for the Japan accounts? I'm hungry.”

Aaron glanced up to see who the owner of the voice belonged to. His gut twisted as soon as his eyes met Jimmy's. His dorky hairstyle with fanned bangs and bleached tips made him sick to his stomach. The man gave, what Aaron could only describe as, creepy vibes. When Aaron first started, he was paired with Jimmy to train him. At the beginning, Aaron didn’t think anything of it and chalked it up to him being overly friendly. But as the days went on, Jimmy became closer, calling him his friend and wanting to hang out after work. His excuses were drying up and the day of putting up with Jimmy’s antics were coming to a close.

Jimmy gripped the edge of the cubical as he leaned over to try to take a peak at what Aaron was doing. A small flat screen monitor slept peacefully on Arron’s desk showcasing his protectivity for all to see. Jimmy's eyes widened and darted around their cubicle, hovering over him as he breathed heavily down his neck. Aaron's grip tightened around his well-worn pencil.

A piece of paper laid on Aarons desk containing an unfinished light sketch of an elven girl, her delicate features just beginning to take shape. A ball of flame hovered above her outstretched palm while her other held a spell book. In the background, sketched in great detail, were mountain ranges and large creatures flying. Dozens of flowers, each painstakingly drawn, filled the garden around her. Before Aaron could finish the details of her face he must have fallen into a daydream. It was strange how clear the picture of her had been in his mind while drawing this. It felt as if he were there in the garden with her, painting from afar.

“Bro, you are killing me here. How long have you been drawing instead of doing actual work?” Jimmy asked.

Aaron leaned back in his chair from leaning on his desk. A red hand print from using his arm as support marked his face. He thought for a minute about how long it could have been. An hour, maybe two, tops. Time eluded him and as easy as this job was, it provided zero stimulation for him. It was easy to drift off into his own little world. Jimmy demanded an answer and he was compelled to give him what he wanted.

Aaron manhandled the mouse and shook it violently to wake up the computer. Sweat ran down Aaron’s cheeks as Jimmy's burning gaze awaited. Hot breath caressed Aarons neck sending a chill down his spine. He hated when anyone hovered over him like a lost puppy. He wished for people to stay out of his bubble. He wanted enough space to breathe without the risk of someone interfering with his comfortability.

Clicks and ticks sounded through the computer's tower as it spun to life. Cheap, outdated machinery awoke from its slumber, a sign that it had been some time since Aaron had seen the little guy awake. He was afraid of what awaited once the beast turned on. He took a good glance at his work load and checked his emails and other things he needed to do while his office buddy gained more interest in the sketch that laid face up. Jimmy lifted the drawing and studied it, making weird faces and noises.

Aaron sighed, giving him a moment to decide on what to say. He doubted Jimmy would understand the perfection that was Elves. Their graceful presence would put any human girl to shame.

Aaron snatched the drawing from Jimmy. "Let's go get food. I'm starving."

He rolled his chair back stretching to hide the grin across his face after his chair rolled over Jimmy’s foot. It was the little things during the day that helped him get through the long eight hours of work. Rows of cubicles lined the small office space, making it hard to navigate to the cafeteria. The grayish fabric and dark plastic frames that barely held them together blurred as Aaron picked up his pace.

Jimmy glanced one last time at the drawing before sprinting to close the gap between them. “Bro, what is up with the drawing? You hardly got any work done.”

“It's a concept drawing of my-” Aaron paused knowing full well Jimmy didn’t understand or care, but continued anyway. “Roleplaying game. Her name…”

Jimmy's unnatural hair-covered arm blocked Aaron’s path, cutting him off. “What do you mean by her? You some kind of freak?”

Aaron groaned knowing this was going to cause an issue. A man from the south would consider playing as the opposite gender a taboo. Aaron snorted at the thought of Jimmy having unresolved gender feelings.

“It's actually normal for players to play as the opposite gender, it's actually encouraged. I had an idea of an elf warlock who made a deal with a forgotten god in order to extend her life beyond normal so she can learn how to defeat the evil demon king.”

“Sounds lame.” Jimmy sniffled a few times before dropping his arm to let Aaron pass. “Hold on a sec.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Aaron stopped and turned around and witnessed Jimmy pull a clear plastic zip lock bag out of his pocket. About ten white pills were packed nicely and he reached in, pinched one, and popped it under his tongue. He glanced up and offered the bag in his direction. Aaron knew what was being offered to him and he considered accepting. A new drug had hit the streets being marketed as all the same kick of your typical drugs with less addiction. The effects of the drug were unknown as it varies from person to person, but it did help considerably with focus.

“What are you doing?” Aaron whispered.

That idiot was taking drugs in the middle of the office, out in the open. Aaron stepped closer to Jimmy to hide what he was doing to the other office workers. Not that they would care if someone was doing drugs on company time, at least half of them also did it.

Jimmy snickered as if he was high already. “It's a little pick me up to get me though the rest of the day and I think you need some too.”

“Fine.” Aaron quickly reached into the ziplock bag and popped a pill in his mouth. “If it will shut you up.”

Jimmy let out a gasp. “My man!”

Aaron’s heart sank as the realization of what he had just done came to fruition. Drugs, he had just done drugs on company property and if he was found out it would be the end of him. He could go throw up in the bathroom, but Jimmy would call him out on it and he would rather be high than deal with that nonsense. Hunger ripped through his stomach giving an audible growel.

“I heard it wasn’t good to take this drug on an empty stomach, so let’s go eat.”

Jimmy pushed forward leaving Aaron with his internal crisis alone.

They navigated past a few more cubicles before reaching the office lunchroom. The small space was filled with plastic folding tables, and metal chairs that had seen better days—some stood precariously on three legs, while others had been MacGyvered to keep them upright. The break room had all the essentials: a coffee maker that seemed as much a mystery as an artifact, an ancient refrigerator worthy of the Smithsonian, and a perpetually grimy sink that no one dared to clean.

Aaron retrieved his lunch from the fridge and settled at an empty table, methodically unpacking each item: a sandwich, yogurt, a can of soda, and a ziplock bag of strawberries. It wasn't extravagant, but it was quick, easy, and affordable—a straightforward meal for a busy day.

Jimmy joined him shortly after, sitting down with an impressive spread. He set out a ceramic plate, fancy silverware, and a crystal glass. His meal included roasted mashed potatoes and a cooked roast with carrots and onions. Aaron was always astonished by Jimmy's dedication to a gourmet lunch, which seemed out of place in the modest break room.

“When do you have time to make all this?” Aaron asked.

Jimmy whipped out a napkin and tightly tucked it into his blue polo shirt. “I cook dinner every night and I always end up with leftovers. Do you not cook for yourself?”

Aaron didn’t cook for himself every night. He didn’t have the time. Work would exhaust him from the extra tasks people put on him or his own carelessness of doing his work at a reasonable time like today. As soon as he arrived home he would order take out from the Chinese place a few blocks away from his home. It was a lonely existence for sure and Jimmy had a legitimate reason to put him in his place for it.

“I don't. Work drains me of all motivation to cook.”

Jimmy was about to respond to Aaron before he was interrupted by a scrawny man, no more than twenty one, with almond shaped eyes and long hair like ink brush strokes walked into the break room. With him he carried a carryout box of steaming hot food and a large unmarked drink that Aaron could only assume was soda.

“What's up, fuckers?”

“Eric, my man. What did you bring to eat today?” Jimmy asked as he chomped down on his food with no consideration of closing his mouth.

“Pad Thai from the food truck down the street. Nice Asian lady gave me a discount because I'm also Asian.”

Aaron laid down his sandwich and side eyed Eric “That seems a bit...”

“Oh, you think we are racist for giving discounts to others of our race? Fuck you white people.”

Aaron didn't want to argue or even touch the subject with a ten foot pole. He just wanted to eat his lunch in peace yet had to deal with these two insufferable people.

Steam escaped from the top of the Pad Thai when Eric opened the lid. He shoved his fork in and grabbed a large group of noodles and stuffed them in his mouth. After having a mouth full of noodles he grabbed his phone and tapped open one of his apps and ate with one hand while his attention was fixated on the opened app.

“There is this new event in this gacha game and the new banner is outstanding.” Eric explained, noticing Aaron glancing at his lunch time behavior. “I keep telling you to play it.”

“Soon. I have a lot on my plate.”

That wasn't a lie, Aaron did have a lot going on in his personal life, but it was more that he didn't want to commit to yet another game. Sci-Fi didn't bother him; he considered it more space fantasy. He would rather put the time into 3D printing his mini and painting it before the next game begins.

“Aaron?”

Chills ran down Aaron's spine at the mere mention of his name. He hated it, so much he went by his online handle in his friend group. Going by an online handle in a work place would be carrier suicide and he needed a job to pay bills. Though, he has considered getting a name change.

“Is Aaron in the break room?”

Again the disembodied voice of Aaron's boss asked a question to the employees eating lunch. Silence fell on the break room as the two coworkers continued to eat without batting an eye at their friend being called. Arron could feel the other employees in the break room's eyes shift in his direction as whispers spread throughout the small room.

A heavy sigh escaped Aaron's lips as he composed himself before answering. “Yes, boss. I'm here. What can I do for you?”

“Meet me in my office in ten minutes. I need to speak to you.”

With a sip from his white coffee mug he turned and left the threshold of the doorway without saying another word. Stream covered his glasses obscuring his soulless eyes.

“What did you do?” Eric asked without looking up from his phone.

“I'm probably getting fired.”

“Dude, you just started. Relax, it's nothing. It's hard to get fired from this place.” Jimmy butted in.

It was true in some sense that firings are rare at this company, but that's because they would quit before it ever got to the point of the bosses having the satisfaction of pulling the trigger. Aaron attempted to look at the bright side of the situation and think of receiving a promotion or a raise. He has been putting extra hours in order to get his accounts balanced by the next day in order to look good. Also he just cared about his accounts, they were like his projects. Once he started on something he never half assed it.

Aaron had walked down the manager hallway many times before because it leads to the front door, but this felt different. The halls narrowed and extended with every step he took. Why was he so nervous? He thought. It's not like he hasn't done anything wrong. He keeps his head down and never stirs up drama.

The moment of truth had arrived. A beige door with a silver handle greeted him. He took a deep breath and turned the door knob. It creaked open leading to an unprofessional office. The walls were filled with Star Wars, figurines and The Office memorabilia.

The boss, as the workers called him. He has a name but no one cared enough to call him by his given name…Steve. When Aaron was interviewed Steve had a completely different vibe and this was not it.

Steve's dark red oak top shined like it had just been polished. A computer, one picture frame and a few model ships from Star Wars, sat on top of a messy desk. Several stacks of papers that were conveniently placed in front of the one chair that faced Aaron.

Without taking his eyes off his computer monitor Steve said “Anthony, please-”

“Aaron, sir.”

“Right, Andrew. Listen, we've noticed that your workload has been light lately and think you are very much capable of handling a bigger load…” he stopped typing to have his full attention to Aaron. “So we need you to get what you have left on your desk and what's in front of you, done before you leave.”

“Sir, I only have five hours left before I-”

Aaron was cut off by the intense stare from his boss. He wasn't sure why he was so intimidated by Steve's deadpan look, but it shut him up. He just tripped his work load and he'll have to pull an all nighter.

“Then you will have to work late, you are approved for overtime. It's very important. Big meeting tomorrow and I need those numbers. Thanks~.” Steve's long drawn out thanks were like nails on a chalkboard. Aaron wanted to scream and shake off the chills he got from it. “And if you do stay late I expect you to be in at your normal time tomorrow.”

Steve turned to his computer and started typing without saying a word. Aaron shifted in his seat and darted his eyes around the room waiting for permission to leave. The order never happened and he took it upon himself to leave. He took the stack of papers one at a time back to his desk. Not a single word from his boss as he made multiple trips to his desk each time carrying a stack.

This was going to be a long night.