Exhaust
A/N: This was requested by nightythecat, so kudos to 'em for the idea!
Hope you enjoy, I haven't written anything for the Lorax fandom in a while.
The Lorax (c) Dr. Seuss, Random House, and Illumination Entertainment
Aloysius O'Hare peered over the mob from his elevated perch, a mailbox on the street corner of City Hall, and searched through the bobbing heads of the anxious crowd for one in a green felt top hat.
Clenched in one pudgy, sweaty fist were multiple sheets of paper speckled in data and graphs—the perfect business plan. Now all O'Hare had to do was show them to the perfect businessman.
The crowd surged suddenly, and the teen was nearly knocked from his roost. Scrabbling to regain his hold, O'Hare swore softly as he attempted to look over the throng again. Small eyes darting around, he hoped—wished with all his might—that he had not missed him.
And then the doors to City Hall opened.
And amid the black-suited, stocky bodyguards was a sliver of green.
His heart leapt into his throat, and O'Hare rushed to get off the mailbox, ending up falling flat on his face. He was standing in the next instant, however, running into the crowd.
Trying to avoid elbows and knees, O'Hare was jostled and bruised in the process of getting to the front of the crowd. "Excuse—'scuse me, sorry, trying to get through—," he kept muttered.
Finally, O'Hare burst out on the other side, trying to ward off the lingering feeling of claustrophobia, and for once thankful of his small size. Once he had regained his composure, he began whirling his head around, eyes wide as his gaze roved over the uproarious crowd in search of that one person.
And there—O'Hare spotted the man clad in green again, just on the other side of the police barricade.
Easily ducking beneath it, O'Hare jogged straight into the man's path, much to the outraged cries of his fans and various news reporters.
Panting, Aloysius gazed up at the lanky man, looming over him rather alarmingly and knew he did not have long before his security force dragged him away. He jabbed a meaty fist up at the businessman, gasping, though his expression only conveyed eagerness and misguided hope.
"Mister—Mister Once-ler, I know that you probably don't know me, but I'm a janitor, I work part-time in one of your factories, have-I have some plans for-for your Thneed company, to-to expand it, make it world-worldwide—it's the perfect plan, d-don't worry, I've gone over it for months." O'Hare was rambling, but his heart was constricted, pounding painfully in his ears, and his idol was standing before him, actually listening to his business plan—
The Once-ler's lip curled, only slightly, before he hid his disdain behind a pair of sunglasses and stepped over the teen without a word. O'Hare's next sentence died on his lips and he raced after his boss. "Please, sir, if you would just hear me out, I'm positive that I could help-"
The lanky man spun around so quickly that O'Hare lost in footing in surprise and fell flat on his bottom. The Once-ler had a gloved index finger jutting into his chest in the next second, the eyes burning furiously behind his glasses matching his venomous tone.
"Let's get this straight, all right, runt? You're a janitor, and I'm a billionaire. I have money, lawyers, and people more qualified than you working for me. I am the the richest and most successful man in the city." He jabbed his finger into O'Hare's chest, shoving his at least foot back. "You are a janitor. What possessed you to think that I would ever want, or need, your help?"
O'Hare was grasping at straws now, expression pitifully helpless. "I know, sir, but I just thought-"
Once-ler interrupted him again, tone abruptly nonchalant "You create an all-powerful corporation, and then we'll talk. And don't let me catch you created plans for my company again, or you'll be missing that janitor job of yours."
The man rose to his full, imposing height, straightening his coat. O'Hare watched him silently, whatever outcome he might have hoped for having crashed and burned and now lay in brain like some hapless, smoking wreck. Without looking back at him, he was too insignificant for any more of his boss' attention, the Once-ler slipped into his limousine, waving to the roaring crowd with a toothy smile before slamming the door behind him.
O'Hare hardly noticed his boss' bodyguards moving to apprehend him, though he had done nothing wrong really, and the teenager numbly reached for the Once-ler's pristine limousine, as if the force of his weak willpower alone would bring him back and allow him to apologize at the feel of the one he idolized most.
The limousine's engine roared to life, and the cloud of exhaust it emitted in its wake had Aloysius choking and gagging as he was dragged away.