That was the first time I’d really looked at the man, and I hesitated outside the office for a long moment. Then I turned to the assistant.

He was already looking at me when I spoke critically, my question sharp, “You’re gay?”

Green eyes became guarded as I stalked up, setting the paperwork down on the desk and looking down at Shawn. Relaxed shoulders tensed, and I noticed one of his hands clenched, the other that was holding a pen having white knuckles.

“Yes, I am,” He said almost defiantly.

I grinned, relaxing and gesturing to the side, “Isn’t he kinda hot?”

Surprise and relief mixed, the clatter of a pen reaching my ears as I met peridot green eyes that grew amused, “Is that the only reason you wanted to know if I was gay?”

My grin turned sheepish, “Maybe? Like I just noticed, but damn. Have you seen him?”

“I have,” Shawn said, his voice relaxing and gaining a flamboyant accent, his grin easygoing, “He’s amazing, but…” His grin faded. His sigh was wistful as he leaned back, eyes looking up at the ceiling with such regret I could practically see the world on his shoulders, “Neither of us have a chance, girl. He’s rich.”

An abrupt laugh escaped my lips, and my voice grew quieter, “Are you serious? A CEO’s assistant saying that? Do you know just how many assistants and secretaries out there succeed? Like, all of the attractive ones. You definitely have a chance. Not for a ring but at least for his pants.”

A hand reached up, running through already messy brown hair that didn’t reach his ears as Shawn looked at me. In spite of the action, he was clearly lost in thought, eyes farseeing.

“Girl…” His green eyes met mine, and an excited grin lit his face up, his eyes glittering, “Oh, why didn’t I think of this sooner? We have a chance!”

“We do!” I cheered.

“Okay, so—“ The enthusiastic but determined tones cut off abruptly as the office doors slammed open.

I stood straighter, grabbing my paperwork quietly as I glanced over.

The tall and long-legged man who looked ravishing in a suit walked past, not looking at us as he spoke, “Should I cut your pay if you have enough time to gossip? Or should I fire you for delaying your jobs to do so?”

I blinked, a response out of my mouth before I could help it, “I get paid?”

My hand reached up as surprise filled my expression, and I remained frozen until Davis was out of sight.

“Oh, oops. I’m probably fired,” I said sadly, glancing at Shawn, who looked equally as shocked, “Damn. Think I could get a nice severance in the form of him personally firing me?”

“You don’t get paid?” Shawn focused on that part as I walked away.

I grinned, lifting my ID as I turned and walked backward, “If I did, this would have a name on it. Unpaid intern, which is corporate for paper gofer. I should probably go, have a good one!”

“You too, girl!” Shawn called after me, then spoke quietly to himself, “Damn, I would not have responded like that. Brave girl.”

I chuckled to myself, unable to help the grin as I got into the elevator. I was surprised just how happy the small conversation had made me, and my smile faded at the thoughts rushing through my head.

It was sad I’d never get to see him again. Worth it, though. This entire experience has been worth it, much to my surprise. I really enjoyed hanging out here, and while sure, I had to do some work, I didn’t really see the exercise as hard work. I just saw it as free water, a free shower, and the ability to read through documents I’d otherwise never get to touch.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

To my surprise, even reading through the documents was a treat. While I knew others would be put off by the dry and overwhelmingly thick prose of the massively important documents, I found it refreshing. I found it amazing that even without looking up the words I could read through and fully comprehend a document.

It was wholly official, but… Damn.

Damn, I would really miss reading through these dry but oddly not oppositionally interesting documents.

I read through the ones that were refused, noting that the one on top didn’t have any spelling errors. I read through it a few times, wondering why it was refused. I’d have to read other ones that were refused, too, and this one was fifty-plus pages, so I’d have to request to read it after it was done being retyped to be edited.

Another thing that was done by interns, though those ones were typically paid, seeing as they had named IDs.

Maybe they were just better liked, though, they all looked kind of broke to me.

My footsteps faltered, and I physically stumbled over my own feet, tripping when I saw Davis in the lawyers' office. The papers I’d meant to deliver flew across the ground.

“Ah, there she is,” Davis commented, gesturing at me as he looked down at the pale-faced man he was talking to.

“Oh, um, yes! Her, aha… Yes, okay, I’ll do that right away!” The old but spry man said, nodding rapidly. His ID stated him as HR, and his hair was the same color as his shirt, a snow white.

I remained knelt, heart hammering in an awkward way and face flushed as I picked up the papers. I stared at the trembling in my hands as I hurried.

My hands had never shaken like this before. Was I really that afraid of losing a job I didn’t even get paid for?

In spite of my antagonistic thoughts judging myself critically, my eyes burned in a way I wasn’t used to.

I’d lost thousands of jobs in my lifetime, genuine thousands, and while I always ended up trying again, typically after an attempt on my life that failed as it always did, I never cared if I was fired. Now I was shaking and about to cry over a thing I didn’t even get paid for?

I could feel the new low I’d just hit, could feel the weight dragging me down, could feel the toxic miasma surrounding my critical and judgmental thoughts of myself.

My hands slowed down, and I stared at the papers all organized on the ground. Then I blinked, standing up and putting them where they belonged. Well, whatever.

I took a deep breath, hating how it shook coming out. Hating the weird twisting that curled within my stomach. Hating the tension in my spine that refused to leave.

Looking up, and then around, I noted that Davis was gone and that the HR guy was looking harried.

“Come on.”

“W-what’s going on?” I asked, the tremor in my voice painfully obvious to me. I chased after the very, very brisk man, practically jogging to keep up.

“Congratulations! You’ve officially been hired by Kageson Inc. How does $20 an hour sound? He didn’t give me an exact number, but you’ve been here for less than a year, so I can’t give you more than $23.”

My anxiety faltered, and my steps slowed down, “Huh?”

“Keep up,” The man ordered, “I’m surprised the CEO personally hired you for full-time internship. What did you do?”

My feet were loud on the tile as I sprinted to get to his side, still half-skipping every other step to keep up and wishing the man only a few inches taller than me would slow down.

“Uhh,” I managed, breathing heavily, “I, um, o-organized his papers? The ones he would definitely refuse I put at the bottom. I think that’s why, anyway.”

“That’s probably it,” The man said as he walked into the elevator, glancing at me, “You should probably exercise more, if you’re this out of breath.”

“You were sprint-walking,” I retorted, hands on my knees as I gasped for air, ignoring the man’s sadistic laugh.

He took me to a place without black tiles, the tiles white and the walls having a blue stripe through the center. It was very different, and it made me feel like I stepped into the Twilight Zone, everything feeling off and leaving me feeling uncomfortable.

Disoriented, I chased after the marathon sprint-walker, and he led me to a weird room.

“Stand there.”

I did, staring at a dot on the wall. What was it doing there?

“Good, come on,” The man who would win against Sonic in a race took me to another room with a bland gray table and several cold, hard metal chairs, a single printer there next to a trash can and a paper shredder, “Sit there, I’ll be right back.”

I did so, staring straight ahead for a very long moment, in shock. Slowly, the shock wore off. The table was cold. The floor beneath my shoes was cold, too, the cold seeping into my soles.

My hobby of playing rich paid off in dividends, huh?