The events of yesterday – and, primarily, last night – have landed me a front row seat to my own execution.
Here, I sit, clenching and relaxing my knuckles, gritting my teeth, glaring mercilessly at a particularly prominent carpet fiber, as my supervisor barks incoherently. I'm fairly certain he's currently rambling on about the immaturity I've demonstrated – either that, or the lack of responsibility I've shown. One or the other.
I let out a forceful breath through my nose, attempting (and failing) to steady my nerves.
You see, Mr. Squall Leonhart, who I now know to be the father of the miscreant from last night, believes that I – in a fit of rebellion – shattered a company window with the sole intention of causing chaos and disorder. He will have none of this "intruder" business: as far as he's concerned, that is simply a figment of my pitiful imagination.
"Sir, as I have tried to explain, that application folder I ha-"
"Can it, small fry. It's obvious you snatched that folder from my office when you were prying around like the delinquent you are. Honestly, I can't even remember what on earth compelled me to hire such a…" his speech dragged on, minimally fazed by my interruption.
Another sigh slipped through me.
"And ANOTHER thing, what makes you think I would even-"
"Yo, pops."
A gruff bass voice bubbled into the room. My eyes guided my head to the source of the disturbance, only to find the one face I loathed more than the gasbag chewing me out – Vanitas Leonhart.
"Ugh. For the last time, son, you need to address me more formerly if you're going to be doing business with me." Squall pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious contempt for his son's pitiful demeanor: his torn jeans tethered to his body by a large black belt with flame decals, the wrinkled short-sleeved black button-up with the top three buttons undone, hair only slightly less unkempt than it was last I saw him. He made quite an entrance.
"Sheesh, Dad, ease up. No one in here's judging us on professionality."
"That is not a word, Mr. Leonhart." I steadily interjected. My upper lip twitched in fury at his intrusion, his appearance, and his lack of consideration for my significance, quite frankly.
"Listen, kid: just because he's practically as inept and retarded as you, doesn't mean you have the right to give him lip. After all, he is your new apprentice."
At that moment, I was certain my eyes would jump out of their sockets with a resounding 'pop' and roll right over to Squall's tacky leather loafers. Immediately I knew that Leonhart Senior and the good Lord himself were conspiring to punish my soul, body, and mind all in one. I didn't have to stutter, didn't bother to gawk and question this awful decision – I simply sank a little lower into my seat and resigned to my damned fate.
Leonhart Junior, on the other hand, was fully prepared to do everything I had accepted not to.
"DAD, you can't be serious. Internships don't automatically involve shadowing some office dweeb around, watching him fix coffee and kiss ass." Vanitas crossed his arms, slouched, and furrowed his brow in the general direction of his father. I couldn't believe my ears: HE was upset about working with ME. As if there was something wrong with me!
"Suck it up, son. As much as I despise this shrimp, he knows his way around better than most at his level, and I'd simply love the chance to torture you both." Squall closed his eyes in contentment, most likely fantasizing about Vanitas and myself, going head-to-head, ripping each other's' throats out. "Besides, you're only here because we share DNA, remember that. But that – by no means – makes you exempt from the rules that every other pea-brained lackey in this joint has to follow." As he chastised Vanitas, he jutted his thumb out towards my seat. I took little notice of the insult, though, being too preoccupied boiling imaginary water insider of my head and gnashing my teeth as the steam flooded out of my ears.
"Tsk. Whatever you say, boss-man." Vanitas huffed in resolution. I stood up, keeping my expression blank and my eyes level with Squall's.
"I look forward to the opportunity to help guide Mr. Leonhart. Thank you, sir." I bowed respectively, feeling another lip twitch threatening to make an appearance.
Squall rolled his eyes dismissively. "Sheesh. Just get outta here. Show the brat how to fax or something – I don't care. Just don't cause any more problems for me, Strife." I brushed off the fact that he had finally addressed me somewhat personally with a microscopic chuckle. Then, I made my way to the exit, completely avoiding eye-contact with the "brat".
"Yo, blondie. Don't think about leaving me in the dust! After all, I obviously can't do anything around here without you." I could just feel Vanitas smirking at my retreating figure. "Hey, don't ignore me!" he turned his whole body towards me.
Without halting or turning around, I replied, "Six contractions in five minutes: entirely improper, Mr. Leonhart. You really should begin working on that." And with that, I took my leave, assumedly with a very bemused and irritable Vanitas following soon after.
"I don't see the big deal."
My right eyebrow began to spasm in annoyance.
"It's just ink."
My lips sank downwards at the seams in a deep scowl.
"Would you say something you weirdo?"
I flashed my eyes up towards Vanitas, hovering over my crouching figure with his hands shoved as deep as possible into the shredded skinny jeans clinging to his pale legs. The white skin shone defiantly through the tears and splits, and for some reason it was all I could notice at the moment – he was almost as colorless as I was. Almost.
I closed my eyes and calmed myself for what felt to be the millionth time in the past 36 hours. "Each employee is allotted a specific amount of ink over a certain amount of time. Typically, for those my status or lower, two full cartridges are distributed and expected to last for a three-month cycle. And that was my last cartridge until September."
"Huh." Vanitas slumped his shoulders slightly as he gazed absent-mindedly at the black puddle littering the carpet.
"Plus, the janitors only feel responsible to clean messes that they classify as 'reasonable'." I dropped my chin to my chest, imagining the pure, flaming hatred bursting from the head janitor's eyes as he happened upon the stain. Great. One more enemy in this hell-hole.
"I'm sure we can clean it. Or get someone else to. Relax." Vanitas pried one of his hands out of his pockets and splatted it atop my head, shaking it from side to side as he matted my hair. Shocked, I opened my eyes and stared down at my lap. Why is he touching me?!
I quickly jerked my neck to the left and successfully broke the contact. He looked down at me once more, boredom evident on his youthful face.
I ran a quick hand through my blonde nest in a half-assed attempt to fix whatever damage he'd caused and took one last sorrowful glance at the black gold pooling in front of the copy machine before I pulled myself back up onto my feet.
"Listen, Vanitas, accidents happen. That is a crucial part to being employed here: being able to accept your own faults and grow stronger from them." I avoided eye-contact as I dished out my pitiful life lesson, hardly believing the mantra myself.
Allow me to take a moment to explain how my precious ink ended up as a pathetic pond: Vanitas can't do anything.
Seriously.
Plain and simple.
He is absolutely useless!
All I asked of him was to put my cartridge in, check the ink and toner levels in our floor's machines and to report to me on them before I began copying a hefty stack of account requests. Somehow, within the five minutes I allocated for the trivial task, Vanitas managed to jam the slider on top of the primary machine, cancel someone else's order of 200 copies, spill ink all over the front controls, and – obviously – drop the entire cartridge on the floor, causing it to shatter and leak.
Honestly.. I haven't felt this hopeless in a long time.
"Thanks for the pep-talk, blondie." He grinned at me. Well, at least he's enjoying himself.
"I will inform Mr. Leonhart that this was my mistake, and that you helped to clean it up." I sighed, as I began dragging my feet across the stiff carpet as I headed back towards my cubicle.
"Woah woah woah, you'll what?" Vanitas hurried in front of me and blocked my path. Pausing to register the sudden blockade, I rolled my eyes up to meet his confused stare.
"I shall take the blunt of Mr. Leonhart's aggression that is sure to follow after an incident such as this." Evidently, my matter-of-fact message was startlingly confusing to the boy.
"You're going to cover for me?"
"Yes, Mr. Leonhart. I shall 'cover for you'."
"Wow, blondie… Thank you." Vanitas' previous grin returned; only, this one felt less douchey, more genuine. My eyes widened minimally, then quickly squinted again. I forced a cough out, looking away from the pale face once again.
"No need, Mr. Leonhart."
"Call me Vanitas, you nerd." He chuckled, eyes closing in comic delight, cheek bones visibly raising. Stealing another peek at the sight, I felt my own cheeks heat suddenly, certain that a faint pink would soon be tinting a good majority of my head. Letting out another artificial cough, I cringed at my own idiocy: this guy is my enemy! He is here to ruin my life, and I am to do the same to his. He is just another thing put on this earth to make me hate life – after all, misery loves company. Especially if that company is just attractive enough to make me hesitant in my quest to wallow in despair.
All my mental ramblings lasted longer than I suspected, and soon Vanitas was looking at me impatiently, obviously awaiting a proper revision to my previous statements.
Clearing my throat, I edited my remark: "No need to thank me, Vanitas."
"Well, either way, thanks again, Ventus." Vanitas smirked once more, turning and beginning to head to the cubicle. "Oh, and don't think that that blush went unnoticed." He looked over his shoulder and threw a devilish wink at me before continuing on his way.
I was proud of myself for keeping my composure when Squall pitched the curveball of my new subordinate at me, but now, under the sexual tension and romantic pressure I was being bombarded with, my resolution cracked.
My face heated even further, a sweet magenta staining the skin beneath my saucer eyes.
All from one smile? One chuckle? One wink!?
My new intern is going to be the death of me.
Sorry for the late update! Not a whole lot of action in the VanVen community, I understand.
But I would like to thank those who have already followed and reviewed! I appreciate the feedback more than you know.
This chapter was not too long at all, mostly because it's extremely difficult for me to write filler chapters like this.. Yes, I consider this filler. I just want to get right into the goods! The sweet, sultry goods!
Unfortunately, I wanted this one to grow at a nice pace. Too many good stories fall short of greatness because of impatience.
With that said, feel free to expect much more from the next chapter, because it is time to dive into the real plot!
Look forward to another update within the month. :)