-Eric-

There was a certain solitude to waiting.

It was a suffocating stasis of being, thoughts languidly swirling around within a sealed echo chamber. I tried to focus on the loudness of the city, of passing cars and distant voices, but it all seemed to dull into the background. There was only static and the sound of my own building impatience... like a thudding against the side of my cranium.

I sat by the bus stop, restlessly over-thinking on the faded, dark grey bench beneath me. My hands pressed down against the cold metal seat, fingers gliding across the small ridges that spanned across the base before they settled on my lap once more.

I'd tried texting Jaqueline about it, but she hadn't replied yet, likely busy with work.

Against my better judgment, I kept replaying my conversation with Shawn in my head, as if that would unlock something. I hadn't necessarily meant to take what he said to heart, but seeing the disinterest in his eyes even as he disagreed with me had... flipped some kind of switch. It was just frustrating.

He acted like I was wrong for caring, like we were talking about something trivial like an overdue parking ticket and not someone's rights. And why even bring up that specific case? God, what an asshole.

I couldn't help but wonder where he stood. What he thought about it, outside of trying to prove I didn't know enough about any of this. All I could do was sit here and distractedly wait for the next bus, unable to shake the feeling that this was merely the consequences of my own actions. Another fool's errand for the fucking fool.

And sure, I knew it was probably dramatic of me to complain about something so simple, but it wasn't even about that.

It was the principal of the thing.

I'd offered to help with something around the office, but he clearly thought I wasn't smart enough to handle even the simplest of tasks. Even now, I could feel him looking down on me.

And yet, the moment I found myself getting upset, a single thought would inevitably find its way to the forefront of my mind: I was the one imposing on this jerk's workplace. I had been warned to stay away, and I'd allowed myself to be swayed by a stranger's offer.

All for what?

I called Mason's phone upon checking the time, noticing it was around the time his class ended. I'd tried calling him before, but it kept going to voicemail. So, I wasn't really holding my breath.

I was surprised when he actually answered this time.

"Mason," I breathed out. "Dude, finally."

"Yeah?" Mason asked, his voice a bit distant and muffled. He was likely heading home from class then, using those shitty headphones with the lousy microphone that he clung onto because he refused to buy a new one until they physically disintegrated. "Sorry, class just ended. What's wrong?"

I sighed. "I want to quit, dude."

Mason scoffed. "Uni? Just hold out... this is our last year anyways."

"No, no... I want to quit this stupid job," I elaborated, nodding my head in greeting as a couple strolled by whilst walking their tiny dog.

There was a brief pause, followed by a confused snort. His voice got even more distant, though louder in his surprise. "When the hell did you get a new job?"

I rolled my eyes, realizing that I hadn't even told him about this new internship. This was technically my first proper day of work and I was already over it. Mason wasn't even in the loop, and I was already throwing in the towel.

"I—yeah. It's an internship at a law firm."

"Huh?" Mason asked, sounding amused by the nonsense of my choices. "What the hell are you doing that for? I thought you wanted to work for a software company or some shit."

I grumbled in begrudging agreement. Yeah, well, that was certainly something I'd considered pursuing this year. Though, that clearly hadn't panned out the way I wanted. I had even applied to some places recently, but I hadn't heard back from half of them and the other half had led me nowhere. The one instance in which I'd made it past the video call interview, they'd ghosted me soon after.

"Well, if I quit, I can keep trying for that, right?"

Mason grumbled. "Does it pay well?" he asked before scoffing. "Please tell me it isn't 'for experience' or some bullshit."

I rolled my eyes. Unfortunately, yes. Though, I was beginning to wonder if any amount of money was even worth it if this morning was a sign of what was to come. "Yep. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

Mason hummed. "And you have nothing else lined up?"

I rubbed at my temple, already seeing where he was going with this. I often turned to Mason for advice whenever I was at a crossroads, but it was always so conflicting when he had good advice for me. "No," I explained warily, resisting the urge to cuss him out. God, why couldn't he just put on some silver boots on and tell me to quit my job?

"Quit once you find something else, then," he explained, being a bit too sensical for my liking. "Yeah?"

I sighed. "Fine, fine."

Mason suddenly grumbled, some light shuffling dominating the call before he groaned into the phone. "I have to let you go, okay? The guys are being annoying. We'll talk about this when you get home."

"If I don't murder my boss by then," I grumbled before hanging up, glaring at the street ahead. When I turned my head, I noticed the bus was finally in sight, at the very least. Though, the dry cleaners were half an hour away by car and nearly an hour by bus.

Perhaps I should be glad that I was out of the office, away from Shawn's vindictive grasp. And yet, he'd be benefitting regardless of what lens I chose to place over my eyes. Even now, as I sat under the uncomfortable afternoon heat, all I could do was get that man's stupid clothes.

---

I sighed while getting off the bus, glancing around as I crossed the street, making my way towards the dry cleaners. It was a quaint shop, comfortably situated in a crowded street, nestled between a sushi place and a local deli shop. It was surprisingly empty, which was a nice plus.

I pushed the glass doors open and stepped inside, enveloped by a pleasant rush of cool air. "Hello," I greeted the older man sitting behind the main desk who was intently scribbling on a newspaper.

"Name?" the man replied while peering up, thankfully tearing his eyes away from his word puzzle for long enough to humor me. "Hmm, I haven't seen you here before."

I flashed a weak smile. "I'm picking up some clothes for my boss, Shawn Briggs?"

The elder narrowed his eyes, seemingly not recognizing the name at all. He grumbled under his breath. "Ticket?"

Huh?

I took out the only thing Shawn had handed me, which was their business card with the address. I even turned the card around, wondering if perhaps this was also a ticket on the backside. But no, I had received nothing of the sort. "Uh... I—I can call him, though. Maybe he can send a picture of it?"

The man didn't reply, going through his notebook before glaring up at me, displeased with that answer. "No Shawn Briggs anyways." Then, he pondered to himself. "Annoyingly tall man? Kind of smug? Wears suits a lot?"

I nodded my head eagerly. "Y-yeah! Him!"

The man reached out for the card I was holding and quirked an eyebrow. "That man doesn't come here anymore. Haven't seen him since, hmm, last year? Pity. He always tipped well."

I stood there, frozen in disbelief. "Huh?"

He took out another notebook from under his desk and flipped through the pages, nodding to himself. "Yeah, last year. He used to be a regular, but he stopped coming by around August."

"H-he did, huh?" I replied warily, clenching my jaw in realization. How interesting. "Y-you sure?"

The man double-checked before sighing to himself, putting the notebooks away and going back to his word puzzle. "Sorry, kid. Our rates are on the board if you have any clothes that you need cleaned."

Ah, right.

I forced a smile and shook my head slowly, stepping back and grabbing onto the door's handle. "No worries! Thanks for the help anyways. I'm sure it was just a mix-up!"

And then I walked out before I could lose my shit on that innocent old man, grinding my teeth as I walked down the street, making my way towards the bus stop to, once again, wait for the goddamn bus to stop by. Luckily, I'd checked the schedule before arriving here and the next one was only fifteen minutes away.

Yet, unsurprisingly, that fact didn't help my sudden desire to shove that man's head into a blender.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill him and then Jacqueline will be forced to represent me in court because she didn't take me to that stupid prison instead," I grumbled, slumping down onto the bench.

-Shawn-

The more I thought about it, the less I could really recall why I'd been so angry in the first place. It was almost like I was hanging onto the annoyance for the sake of feeling it, though that didn't mean I was quite ready to forgive and forget.

Still, a part of me did wonder if perhaps I was somewhat right. After all, it'd been over an hour and the brat still wasn't back from a place that was, quite literally, just down the street. I huffed under my breath, dialing the main reception.

It only took one ring.

"Paul. Where the hell is that brat?"

He just sighed in response. "Who?" Paul asked, disinterested as ever. "Are we talking about your kid? Because I haven't spotted her yet, though I'm... reluctantly keeping an eye out like you asked."

I rolled my eyes, though he... kind of had a point. "No, Paul. The boy. Where is the boy? I sent him out on an errand an hour ago and he hasn't come back yet."

Paul sighed. "Respectfully, how would I know?"

There was an awkward silence as I glared at the phone, realizing I hadn't fully thought this through. "R-right," I muttered out through gritted teeth, cringing. "What are the odds he just resigned and I haven't heard of it yet?"

Paul hummed softly. "I wouldn't bet on it, but it is a possibility."

I sighed. "How is he taking this long?"

"If you want to know, call him or something, I don't know," Paul added before huffing to himself. "Someone's walking in, so... I'm hanging up."

"Wait, Paul—"

I stared in disbelief as the call ended, the blaring beep echoing on my end. God, Paul was a perfect example of why I detested whenever Jacqueline was in charge of hiring. We had a hiring department for a reason, so why the hell did she have to intervene so often?

I contemplated what to do, irritated that I was so distracted by his absence. But he supposedly had my clothes with him. So, of course I needed to make sure he hadn't lost it or... I don't know... been run over by a car? If he had, hopefully it had been on his way to the dry cleaners; one of my favorite suits was in that order.

I couldn't say I was entirely disappointed in how he'd handled debating such a simple case. Though, it was becoming painfully evident that he was an idealist at heart. An idealist with a terrible sense of time management, really.

Even if I couldn't succeed in getting him fired, there was no way Jacqueline would put up with his slowness. Even if she was doing all this to spite me, even she had some hard limits, and punctuality was one of them. Still, this was getting ridiculous.

Ira, send me the kid's resume, I messaged our Hiring Manager, rolling my eyes when she replied with a question mark.

For what reason? she replied a bit too distrustingly, likely briefed on my distaste for the kid.

I grumbled. The little shit is technically my assistant too, right? I messaged back, rolling my eyes when she reacted with a thumbs-down emoji.

Do it.

To Ira's credit, a few minutes later I received a ping with his files. And sure, Jacqueline was cc'd because Ira was a goddamn snitch, but that was fine. The fact that I was nosey wasn't news to my dear co-worker. I sent a quick thank you and leaned forward on the chair in anticipation, opening the kid's resume.

And... nothing.

There were a few past jobs listed and the university he was attending was, irritatingly, my alma mater. Definitely the top option in-state, at least as far as public universities went.

I couldn't even talk shit considering I'd always been proud of getting in myself, though the acceptance rate was certainly a tad bit more lenient nowadays. I read through the info he'd listed about his time there, scoffing at the way he'd phrased being involved in a club as if it were a complex, higher management position.

And he had a 4.0 GPA somehow, which was just...

Did you fact-check his resume for inconsistencies? Some of this stuff seems off, I messaged Ira rather impatiently. Maybe we should do another background check while we're at it.

Then, I waited.

I always check thoroughly, Ira replied almost too quickly, are you telling me how to do my job, Shawn?

I winced at the lack of emojis, slightly fearing for my life.

No, sorry.

She replied with a single, eerie happy face.

So, that was a dead end.

I yawned while glancing over at the clock, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. Seriously, how was he taking this long? It couldn't even be that I'd miscalculated the distance, since one could literally see the dry cleaners from our parking lot.

I took out my wallet and frowned, frowning when I realized the business card for the dry cleaners down the street was, somehow, still in there. I took it out, tilting my head in confusion.

I had definitely given it to him. Unless...

"Oh," I breathed out, sliding it back into the third slot and putting my wallet away. "That's not—"

I didn't necessarily clean out my wallet very often. So, unfortunately, it was becoming evident that I'd given him the card from the former place I used to frequent. They always did great work and it wasn't too far from my house, but then a nice dry cleaners had opened up down the street from here and, well, it just made sense to switch over for convenience.

I chuckled in disbelief, slowly shaking my head while going back to reading the kid's resume.

Well, that was certainly unfortunate.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading. Writer's block tried to take my ass out... but a bitch lived!