Laxus is having trouble at the work place. His secretary, Lucy Heartfilia just quit. Is it Laxus's fault? Will he manage to keep his grandfather's company afloat? Find out, in part 2 of Poor Choices!

Laxus Dreyar

Could I really do this without a secretary? I was working to the bone to make Grandpa proud, and the last thing I needed was more work on my plate. As I try to collect myself, Mira walks to the front of my desk.

"Yes, Mira?"

She slaps me. "You jerk." She answers, crying.

Pure panic fills me as her tears run silently down her face. What would Grandpa do? "W-What is it? Was it something I said?"

"Y-You c-can't help but k-keep people at arm's length. You may work your people hard, but y-you work yourself harder. I can't watch as you throw s-so much into your work that y-you don't h-have time for anyone else. Y-you're going to work yourself to d-death, at this rate." Mira whispers to me, trying to force her words out through the tears. "W-when you were y-younger, you used to relax, and have fun, b-but now, y-you never h-have the time! D-Don't bother to call, and if I see you, I-I― I'm just someone you know!"

With that, Mira ... Ms. Strauss ... ran out of the room, shutting the door behind her and leaving me confused. What just happened?

I didn't have time to mope. I had to continue, for my friends, and for Grandpa. I stand, forcing away my confusion. I'll have time to think about it later. "Mr. Justine!" I call, opening the door. "We have work to do."

"But sir, you just broke up with Mira, don't you need time to recover, or perhaps you ..." Fried Justine, one of the closest things I had to a friend, besides those who I've never seen the face of. He's also madly in love with me, which is annoying.

"No, I don't have the luxury, and in case you're wondering Mr. Justine, for the last time, I'm not gay. Find some fragile pretty boy, not me."

"Really, Laxus?" Haiyokama Bixlow laughs. He's Japanese, so his surname goes first.. "You don't pull your punches!"

"Mr. Haiyokama, we're at work, act professionally." I scold him. He's one of my other friends, and he often feels he can talk to me informally at work.

"Fine, 'Mister Dreyar'-sama" He laughs, mockingly, and returns to his financing. He's one of my higher-level employees, and not simply because he was my friend. When it came to money, he was a genius.

"Mr. Justine," I turn to Fried, "I need you to start looking for a new secretary. Put out ads, I need a new secretary. Don't worry. Until you can find one, I'll take up the burden myself."

Bixlow pales. "But sir!" He rises to his feet. "You already do so much for this company, don't-"

"Mr. Haiyokama, I've made up my mind. I need you to calculate Ms. Heartfillia's pay, and what we have available for a new secretary."

"Yes, sir." Bixlow sighs, "But why are we paying her? She walked out without a two-week notice."

"Because my grandfather treated every member of this business as a family. I want to be the same. She left, but we will still treat her well." I answer, tiredly.

"Fine, sir. I'll make sure she's paid."

"Good. Mr. Justine," I turn back to Fried, "Let me know when Ms. Haiyokama comes back and please inform me when we have any takers." Ms. Haiyokama Evergreen is another friend of mine and went to the same orphanage as Bixlow, the Haiyokama Children's home, which I hear was shut down. Bixlow, who was a young adult when it shut down, adopted Evergreen to prevent her from living on the streets before they moved to America. He says a few other kids managed to get homes fast as well. Good for them. It's the kind of thing my masked friends would like to do.

With business concluded, I return to my office and begin with my paperwork. I don't get far before all the pressures I was concealing consume me.