My elbows planted themselves on the table and I roughly scrubbed at my face. Eleven months I’d been living very, very rough. Seven of those had been me playing a college student at an internship, and I actually got a paid position?
The printer behind me started making noise, and I removed my head from my hands, exhaustion fading as I pulled out my phone and started looking for apartments after doing the math on my phone.
Even if I only got paid monthly, I’d be able to get a $1,000/month place, and it looked reasonable. It was a 1.5 bathroom 1 bedroom place that had a large—for New York—area to work with.
I found several places like that, ranging from $900 to $1,400, small but very workable. I contacted all of them, not applying due to the fees but not needing to, simply contacting them and wondering if they would be available or if they had places that would become available in a month or two.
By the time the man had returned, I’d had an entire plan, from daily commutes to beds to food—glorious, beautiful, amazing food—to even freerunning routes after I’d gained money. Twenty different plans followed each apartment I’d sent an email out about, and I closed my writing app as a BIC pen, and a stack of papers was slammed in front of me.
I read through them.
Faster-than-Sonic scoffed, slumping into the seat across from me, “At least I know you’re actually a law student. No one else reads intern papers.” I glanced up, hesitant. His eyes flicked to the ceiling before resting on me, waving me ahead, “Go ahead, take your time. I knew this would take awhile. While you do that, I’ll fix you into the system. You don’t happen to have a few forms of ID on you, do you?”
I pulled my wallet out as I read, pulling my Midwest ID and social card out of it and handing them over.
“You’re not supposed to do that, you know, you’re supposed to keep your social in a safe spot.”
I don’t answer, staring at the $23/hr, an entire $4 extra I hadn’t accounted for. Jackpot. The rest of the contract was very painfully spiteful if something like corporate theft or spying was found, but otherwise, the most generous I’d ever read.
It didn’t compare at all to the other contracts I’d read through, and it was as concise as it could be, being mostly five pages of thinly veiled threats against betrayal or theft. It must have happened often enough to need to add it in, especially for interns, I supposed.
I didn’t find anything I disagreed with, simply seeing that while I could be immediately fired for deceiving Kageson about having a law degree, I couldn’t be fined or anything.
An amazing thing to know, as my every breath stank of deceit.
Signing it smoothly and filling out the stuff I needed to get paid, Sonic Sr spoke frankly, “You took longer than most interns do. You might actually last here longer than a year, how interesting. Here you go,” Sonic Sr threw my stuff across the table, it sliding silkenly. Three cards were slid to me as he grabbed the paper, “You can get back to work, now. I’m sure you know the way back.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Before I could speak to ask his name, Sonic Senior zoomed out of there, his shoes squeaking on the white tile of the HR floor.
I stared at the green semi-transparent INTERN behind “May Cole. Legal Consultant.”, thinking as I stared at my own dazed look from when I’d been told to stand somewhere.
The me standing in the image had glazed eyes and a blank expression, looking almost unrecognizable to me. I guess when I starved I must have lost weight, even though I’d kept up with my caloric intake.
It was official, now. I was a paid intern.
The joy that filled me was tempered by the fact that I had no one to share it with, and I stood up quietly, pulling the green lanyard of my new ID over my head and putting my other two items away.
I stood tall as I walked to the elevator, going back to floor 78.
Why did I only win when I lied?
No. I earned this. From what I’d heard, no other paper gofer got paid, and some stayed for years before giving it up for a lost cause. Clearly organizing the papers earned me a lot of brownie points. I’d have to work harder in the future to continue doing so.
The rest of the day passed by normally, Shawn waving every time I passed and me nodding though he was always on the phone, sadly. Unlike me, he left at a normal time, leaving his boss behind to go home. I fiddled with my ID all day until it grew to be 18:02, wherein I took another long shower and put my ID carefully into my backpack, glad there was a semi-hidden waterproof pocket on the back of the main opening. When I put my backpack on, my ID would be against my back.
My stomach twisted painfully, and I found myself grabbing a styrofoam cup and drinking myself nauseous once more just so my stomach wouldn’t feel like it did. With December quickly coming, I couldn’t have gotten luckier than I did in timing. I was surprised any apartments were still available, but my life would improve.
It would.
I would be happy, now.
What if the only reason I’d been able to keep the job was because I was too hungry to be depressed?
No. Stop it.
I walked out of Kageson with eyes as confident as my posture. My backpack was empty, though, and I knew I’d get fired now if I got caught doing things such as being found dumpster diving, so I was set to suffer.
Walking to the nearby park, I sat down. I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep, and no cop woke me up, to my great relief and surprise. When I woke up, it was to my alarm. On my chest was my ID and Social Security, wallet gone. My phone was still there, though, as I’d tucked it into my bra instead of my pocket like I usually did.
I swallowed, relieved beyond belief that they’d read the note I left in the cash-holding part of my wallet.
I’m broke, everything on me is stolen, including the wallet. If you really want my stuff, please leave my ID and SS card.
It was a good idea. I took my backpack off and put my ID and SS card into the same pocket my ID was in, taking that out and putting it on.
My life felt hollow as the wind blew through me, and I looked up as leaves fell through the sky. In spite of NYC claiming to be the city that never sleeps, it was the most quiet around four in the morning. The night owls and clubgoers faded out, and the early birds had only just woken up if they were awake at all.
A nearby jogger told me they were, though, the person in a tank top and short shorts very, very clearly not a night owl. Though it wasn’t four yet, the monster. Not that I truly thought they were evil for waking up too early. She looked as haunted and empty-eyed as I was.
Standing up, I zipped my empty backpack and felt at myself. Everything seemed fine, and I looked at the time. I was only five minutes from my job, and it was about three in the morning. Well, whatever.
The security guard didn’t care.