-Eric-

"You can do that for me, right?" I mimicked low under my breath, frowning as I turned the corner.

He'd just walked all over me. Again.

I'd let him too, standing there like a make-shift punching bag, as if intending it to be so. And frankly, I hadn't even processed the reality of the situation until I was already out of the bathroom, the added space between Shawn and I feeling like enough of a buffer to think. To breathe a bit easier.

To fucking remember that I was meant to force an apology out of him, somehow. But like hell was that going to happen when I couldn't even stand up to him.

I scowled back at the bathroom, nearly storming back in there before halting myself a few feet from the closed door. It wasn't worth it, as much as I was itching for a fight. Not just because there was no guarantee he couldn't make my life a literal living hell in turn; there was also no guarantee that I'd be able to cling onto the scarce, hint of bravado I'd scrapped together once I was out of there.

For all I knew, I'd go back to nervously stammering the moment I barged back in there. And then what?

God, Lucy would be so disappointed.

But in that moment, as that man stared me down, I hadn't really known what else to do. His animosity was starting to seriously piss me off, but how was I supposed to argue back when it felt like he still had the moral high ground? If I could just get on equal footing, it wouldn't feel so uncomfortable to argue back.

But until then...

I passed by the front desk, curiously looking over at Paul. He seemed rather unbothered as he read through a magazine, suddenly cringing as he glanced up and caught sight of me.

"What?" he questioned drily, as if irritated by my mere presence.

Hah. He had that in common with Shawn.

I sighed, more exhausted as time went on. I couldn't wait until my shift was over and I could head back home. "Nothing."

That didn't seem to be the right answer, though. Paul rolled his eyes, lowering the magazine onto the desk. "You're moping. Did you get lost or something?" He asked it so seriously too, like Jacqueline's office wasn't just down the hall and I wasn't a grown ass adult.

"Huh? N-no," I grumbled, unsure of how to react to his condescending tone. There was such a casualness to it, like it was understood that I'd be out of my depth here. It was almost intimidating. "Shawn's forcing me to do shit for him."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he does that sometimes. Just go with it."

I sighed. Alright. So, at least he could relate to my pain here.

"He wants coffee?" I tried, a bit unsure of whether I was expected to go to the coffee shop down the road or if we had a coffee maker here.

"Ah, yes. He hasn't had breakfast yet," Paul mentioned aloud, nodding his head in agreement. "He likes his coffee very hot. Mostly because he gets distracted and won't drink it right away. This way, it'll still be hot by the time he gets to it."

I nodded my head slowly, listening intently. "Okay."

"Two sugars, two creams. He says he likes it black, but he's a filthy liar."

Oh. "A-are you sure?"

He leaned forward, his face suddenly contorting with a perturbing seriousness. "Yes. And don't mess up the bagel, kid," he threatened, though there was a glint of concern in his tone.

"We're probably the same age," I grumbled. "And how do you mess up a bagel?"

"Toast it on medium. And don't add anything on it. He has cream cheese in his office," Paul explained before pointing right at me. "You got that?"

I frowned. "He does?"

Paul nodded his head. "Now, hurry up. You're supposed to be working."

I sighed. This wasn't even my fucking job. And yet, here I was, playing errand boy for the bastard. And even if I shouldn't technically be complaining since it was a rather simple task, the fact that it was for him was enough of a deterrent.

Damn it, he pissed me off.

Paul glanced me up and down before warily focusing back on his magazine, tsking under his breath. "Alright," he replied, signaling towards the right hall. "Rec. room's that way. Turn right four doors down. Use Shawn's mug."

Then, he started reading again.

"Thanks," I replied while heading to the right, even though he wasn't really paying attention anymore.

---

The rec. room wasn't necessarily what I was expecting.

I'd been in a few in my time, what with the collection of part time jobs I'd accumulated over the years; however, this one was by far the cleanest, yet least welcoming. I pushed the glass door open and nervously stepped inside the room, immediately noticing the uncomfortable-looking furniture settled in one of the corners. They were a sterile white, seemingly more for appearance than to be sat on. There were ample tables and chairs, though the entire room was deserted.

It was resoundingly evident that nobody spent time in here. Still, the main table was stocked full of snacks and the fridge was brimming with a variety of drinks.

That was also just wild, since most rec rooms were empty unless someone brought something in themselves.

I fished out an energy drink and glanced it all over, making sure there wasn't a name or a post-it note claiming it as someone else's. When I couldn't find one, I opened it and took a sip, sighing to myself before awkwardly walking up to the coffee maker, somewhat intimidated by how fancy and elaborate it was.

Considering I hadn't ever really made coffee before, this was bound to be an interesting experience.

It took a few minutes to understand how to operate the machine, relying on the instruction manual pdf that I'd pulled up on my phone.

"Easy," I muttered sarcastically once the machine whizzed to life and the screen declared that it was in progress, leaning back against one of the counters while waiting. I took a sip of my drink in the meantime, staring at the machine intently.

I'd found a mug in one of the cabinets with a "Shawn" post-it note scribbled over it, so that's what I had awaiting the coffee. It was a flowery mug, hand-painted with an assortment of pastel colors. It had a crooked M.B. painted on the base.

Really, it was all going surprisingly smoothly until I went to reach for the bagel. I tossed open the pink box they'd set on the main table, expecting an array of choices.

Except, of course, there wasn't a single one in there.

There were a bunch of donuts, and even some apple fritters, but not a single bagel. I stared in confusing, replaying Paul's warning in my head. He'd seemed rather adamant...

"Donuts are better anyways," I muttered while grabbing two of those and setting them on a plate, frowning down at them while trying to make them look presentable. There was a gnawing annoyance brewing in the back of my mind at the sight of them, but I pushed the worry away.

Then, I jolted a bit as the machine beeped at me, announcing the coffee was ready. "Alright, alright. I'm coming."

---

Apparently, donuts were not, in fact, better.

I hadn't even made it to Shawn's office when I got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach again. This time, it was exacerbated by the way Paul was glaring right at me, his eyes darting between the plate on my hand and my face, as if he couldn't recognize me altogether.

"What?" I asked, slightly worried.

He just stared, furrowing his eyebrows before shaking his head. "That's not right."

I huffed, shrugging it off. "Yeah, I know. There were no bagels, though."

And really, I expected him to nod in agreement, perhaps even agree that donuts were a good second option, and then carry on with his day like usual. After all, they were both round, ring-like pastries. And they were both somewhat whimsical in nature. It was close enough, right?

Instead, Paul paled at the news.

"I-is that an issue?" I questioned wearily, taking a step back as Paul set the magazine down with a thud and walked around the main reception desk, looking downright distraught. "Hey, Paul."

"I forgot to get them," he confessed gravely before pointing at the phone. "Keep an eye on any incoming calls; I'll be right back."

"W-wait!" I yelled out, scoffing out a cynical laugh. What the hell was going on? One moment, Paul didn't care. And the next, he was worrying about such a little thing. "Is it really that big of a deal? Can't he just have a goddamn donut for today?"

Paul just let out a tired sigh while impatiently standing there, clearly itching to go. "I don't want to deal with his attitude," he merely replied before scrunching his nose in irritation. "This is my second mistake in a week. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me lately."

"Second?" I asked, confused that he was even confessing as much.

Paul sighed. "Yeah, the first wasn't really my fault though," he explained off-handedly before heading out. "Some creep got into the building while I'd been sent out on an errand."

Oh, he was talking about me.

Fuck. At this pace, the office would be packed with rumors about me, and I couldn't even argue back without implicating myself.

I just stood there in disbelief as Paul bolted out of the building, coffee and plate still occupying my hands. And considering how that was the most emotion or energy I'd seen from Paul all morning, it was becoming increasingly evident that handing Shawn the donuts wasn't the right call. At all.

I set them down and walked around to sit at his chair, huffing under my breath.

Alright, so we were waiting.

The phone rang and I rolled my eyes before answering it, greeting the person on the other line before taking their phone number and letting them know they'd get a call back. They had asked if a specific attorney was in today. But, uhm, I didn't know how to reroute calls.

I should've just insisted for Jacqueline to take me with her. At least, then, I wouldn't have to deal with Shawn or his bizarre antics. Who the hell was so specific about bagels anyways? They were mid at best.

"And he'll probably not even say thank you," I grumbled under my breath, leaning my chin on my hand. "That jerk."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading!

-Hec