The office is painfully quiet, except for the hum of the fluorescent lights and the soft clicking of keys from nearby desks. I sit at my post, the digital numbers on my cheap wristwatch glaring back at me with unapologetic stillness.
11:02 AM.
I sigh and tap the glass face as if that will coax the minute hand forward.
It doesn't.
God, is it still morning? I think, suppressing the urge to groan. My eyes scan the empty hallway ahead. The air is stiff with formality. Even the way people walk feels choreographed like no one dares to move unless they have a purpose, a destination, or a reason.
And I, well, I'm still trying to find my place in all this perfection.
My hand drifts toward my handbag, and I pull out my phone. Just a quick message, nothing major. I unlock it and open my chat with Liam.
Miss you already. This place is like another planet...
I'm about to hit send when a perfectly manicured hand swoops in like a hawk, snatching my phone mid-air.
"I'll take that."
I look up, startled. It's the blonde from earlier the one with glassy eyes and a permanent smirk that doesn't quite reach them. She wears a form-fitting blazer, heels so sharp they could double as weapons, and a face that looks like it came out of a high-end fashion catalog.
"Sorry…" I stammered, reaching for the phone.
The woman holds it just out of reach, examining it with mock curiosity. "Cute. But no phones, hun. Company policy. Especially around his office." She points toward the towering black doors behind me with a long, red nail.
I blink. "I didn't know…"
"Of course, you didn't," the woman interrupts smoothly. "But now you do."
I open my mouth again, but the woman leans in closer, her tone suddenly dropping.
"Just the work phone from now on. And before you get any ideas, no, it doesn't make personal calls. So get used to it."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Okay… thank you."
The woman leans in a little further, her perfume thick and powdery, and whispers with a venom-laced smile, "Let's see how long you last here." Then she places the phone firmly on my desk, spins on her heel, and walks away, her laughter echoing behind her like a cruel taunt.
My fingers curl into fists on my lap.
Don't cry. Don't let her see you cry.
My eyes burn; my cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, anger, and helplessness all rolled into one.
I look down at my phone. Liam's unsent message stares back at me.
I lock the screen and push it to the back of my drawer.
This job matters. I have to push through it. No matter how much I want to run home, curl into Liam's arms, and forget this place exists.
I force myself to breathe deeply, adjust my posture, and remember who I'm doing this for my future, my dreams, the life I'm chasing.
That day crawls forward like a wounded snail. I handle phone calls on the work line mostly from other departments confirming meetings or requesting scheduling changes. I glance at the large digital screen displaying Mr. Duckknight's calendar, the squares filled with coded abbreviations and blocky appointments.
Boardroom C. Private Lunch. Confidential Review.
Does he even exist? I wonder more than once.
No one comes in or out of his office not even Dana. The black doors remain sealed like a vault. But every now and then, someone passes by and glances at those doors with a mix of fear and reverence like they're walking past a sleeping dragon.
By 4 PM, my headaches, and my back is stiff from sitting straight for hours. I try to distract myself with tasks: organizing the inbox, alphabetizing the folders that Dana dumped on my desk, and studying the employee handbook like it's a sacred text.
But the tension never quite leaves my body.
When Dana finally reappears at 5:30 sharp, I'm startled by the suddenness of it.
"How was your first day?" she asks coolly, typing something quickly into her tablet.
I hesitate. "It was… intense."
Dana smirks. "You made it through. That's already more than most do."
Then she turns and leaves without another word.
I stare after her, trying to make sense of it.
Was that a compliment?
Or a warning?
I pack up my things quietly, slipping my phone back into my bag. It buzzes with a message as I walk toward the elevator.
Liam: You okay? Dinner on me tonight. Cheap Chinese or ramen, your pick.
I smile for the first time that day.