Another night spent being the last person in the office, I sigh, rocking back in my office chair, a warm cup of tea pressed to my lips as I examine the spreadsheet in front of me. Everything looked perfect, but is it really?

Almost perfect won't get me noticed.

The lights dim over the cubicles.

"Ryu!" I shout, exasperated.

"Go home, Hilary!"

I know he means the best but I can't deal with this man. He is always telling me I'll waste my life working in this office if I don't learn to leave when the day is done. Doesn't he know that these are the years for me to set myself apart from all my peers who check out at end of the day – and often even before that?

Some of them never check-in. Mentally, that is.

But, he's right. It is late anyway, and I am nearly sure my work is perfect. With nothing else to do, I turn my computer off and dump out the rest of my cup, rinsing it clean and putting it away. The office is quiet in the late hours, nobody but me and Ryu, with his squeaky trash cart to make any noise.

Gathering my things, I turn my desk lamp off, kiss my office plant goodnight, and head toward the elevators. On the way, I pass Ryu mopping the marble floors so that they shine.

He stops to let me pass, the ever-present look of disapproval on his narrow face. "These wrinkles represent wisdom, dudette. I'll tell you what I tell my grandson: do not regret what has been done."

I playfully consider his words, tapping my finger to my chin. "Hmm. What about the one that says tomorrow's battle is won during today's practice?"

"You ain't going to be winning any battles going to bed at an indecent hour!"

I roll my eyes. "Good night,"

"Good night is right," he chuckles, before muttering under his breath, "Workaholic."

"Be careful or I'll report you to HR."

"And tell them what, that I look out for your health?" He laughs heartily and then swings his broom around like a sword so that it points straight at my forehead. I've known him long enough to know that he has full control and so the effect is lost on me. "They'll probably reward me. Your overtime must be killing them."

"Hardly," I huff. I wonder if they are even aware of the amount of time I spend in my tiny cubical.

The elevator doors open and I step forward only to freeze for a moment in surprise.

It was him: The Man from Upstairs.

Standing tall in a dark suit, briefcase at his side, dark eyes focused on his phone. He looks up only briefly to check the reason his ride was interrupted.

I smile, stepping further in so that the doors can close. "Good evening again," I say cheerfully as if it weren't nearing midnight.

He doesn't answer. He never has. The only thing he ever does is scroll through his phone. Sometimes he doesn't do anything at all, and instead stands there with his eyes closed like a statue, leaning against the elevator wall.

I try to force my gaze to the ground but it keeps drifting up to watch his image in the shiny reflection. He really does have a captivating air about him, something that commands attention.

The only business that is above our offices is Hiwatari Enterprise, a company that is involved in everything from military tech to children's games. I wonder what he does for them that require him to be there so late. These offices aren't the head offices, just a local hub. And judging by the quality of his suit, he isn't a paper-pusher like me. He is definitely important, whatever he does.

The entirety of the ride is silent until we reach the first floor. When the doors open, he stands back, allowing me to leave first. As gentlemanly as it is, I always feel so self-conscious walking in front of him. Is my hair still voluminous or does it look like a rat's nest? Considering how much I ran my hands through it during the day, it probably looks horribly stringy.

I hope my skirt looks good at least. I like how I look in red, but sometimes I think it makes my hips look too big. Like noticeably big. Does it look like I am begging for attention? I probably look garish under the bright lights of the lobby after a fourteen-hour day.

Oh well, nothing I could do about it now.

I stand inside the lobby, scheduling for a rideshare while the Man from Upstairs goes directly outside and steps into the sleek, dark car that is already waiting for him.

What a life, I sigh. What a life to have expensive suits that always look good no matter what time of day it is, and to always have a driver waiting for you. He's probably going to a modern home, decorated by a famous designer. Or to have dinner in an upscale restaurant where he'll eat a perfect dish prepared especially for him.

My mouth watered at the idea of his potential meal. I have leftovers at home. Well, I have a bowl of rice and some steamed veggies waiting for me. Not exactly a gourmet dinner. But do I even want to do the dishes?

When I finally get through my front door, I am too tired to even think of eating. Stumbling through my cramped apartment toward the bathroom, shedding my clothing as I go, I tell myself I'll feel hungry after I am comfortable and clean. However, fresh from the shower, as soon as I put my pajamas on and lay on my bed, I know I won't be getting up again, despite the empty feeling in my stomach.

My limbs ache as I reached over to plug in my phone before turning off the light and snuggling into bed. I'll have the rice for breakfast, with some eggs. That will be a good meal; probably keep me full all morning and then I can work through lunch.

~/~/~/~

I have been working for the same company since I graduated from college five years ago. A lot of the people who had been hired at the same time I was hired are long gone, chasing different opportunities as they arose. We always held a going away party for those who left on good terms, and they always promised me we'd stay in touch. But as always, after a few emails and canceled plans for drinks, communication fades and I am left, once again grouped with the new higher brought in to replace them.

My loyalty has paid off so far. Already, I am at the highest level of my department, and one of the highest-paid in my position. Those two qualities alone should mean I am next in line for a manager position. I have always held a leadership role all through school and this will be no different.

Besides my high status, a lot of the new kids bring me their questions, and more often than not, I find myself fixing their mistakes. I try to be nice when correcting them, but some seem not to care to learn. It is like they think that someone will always be there to catch them. Predictably, they are always the ones that leave as soon as the clock hits five, as if doing the job correctly came second to... Well, everything else!

Honestly, though, I envy them a little. I work extremely hard but aren't we all still in the same department? I am paid more but in the eyes of the higher-ups, but there isn't much of a difference between me and anyone else in my division. Sometimes it seems like they don't even recognize my name.

It certainly isn't where I was hoping to be five years after graduating. I stand-by as those who matter gather behind glass doors for important, secret meetings. But if I worked hard enough, someday I will be privy to those meetings.

A voice deep inside echoes a private doubt. I turn back to my computer screen, burying myself in my work to drown it out. It's the only thing that works.

Hours later, I take my short, company-mandated break. Like always, I open my personal email to clear out the junk and make sure I am not missing an appointment or a sale opportunity. As I scroll, a new notification pops up on my calendar.

A baby shower?

For Emily?

Emily and Michael are already having a baby? They have only been married for a year.

Attached to the email is a picture of Emily. Her red hair falls around her shoulders as she stands to the side to show off the slight bump now appearing over her normally flat stomach, toned from years playing tennis.

My heart drops. Emily is only a year older than me, but ever since we were children, it felt like she was miles ahead. If I got an award, she got three. I got a boyfriend, she won Prom Queen. And the science fair. And Valedictorian.

I get a job at my dream company right out of college, she gets a promotion and starts dating a professional baseball player.

Nothing I did could ever compare to her accomplishments. She always said it wasn't a competition, but that is because she's winning.

Clearly.

I stare at the button to RSVP to her party. Of course, it's months away, Emily being the planner she is. I should say yes, it's what's expected. I'll also be expected to bring a spectacular gift. Possibly even show up early to help set up.

I decline the invitation.

My finger had moved without me even thinking about it. I stare at the screen, which had submitted my answer. Immediately, I can hear the family and their endless guilt. But for a moment, I am so free from their weighty responsibility.

My phone buzzes.

Well, that didn't last long.

Sure enough, it's Emily. Might as well get it over with.

I answered cheerfully as if I don't know why she's calling. After the customary greetings and check-ins, she finally gets around to her problem.

"I noticed you declined the invitation," she says. If there is one quality to commend Emily on it is that she doesn't try to sound sweet if she doesn't want to. She's curious but a little peeved. "I was just wondering if that was a mistake and if I should mark you as attending?"

"Oh, um," I hum.

"I guess it won't really matter if you showed up without notice. It'd be just you anyway,"

I brake.

"Actually, it wasn't a mistake. I already have plans for then,"

There is a pause. "How?"

"It's...my anniversary."

What?

"What? You're dating someone?"

"Yep,"

"Who? For how long?"

"Just a guy," Could I be vaguer? "It's new."

"And you're already planning an anniversary?" I could hear the disbelief in her voice.

"Well, it's new but it feels serious. I really think this could be something,"

"Aren't you hopeful,"

That stings. "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

Emily clears her throat. "Obviously not, Hilary. You're a catch. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Don't you worry, I can handle it,"

"Of course. I was just curious,"

"Your concern is noted."

There are a few tense moments of silence between us. I tap my fingers against my thigh to keep from breaking first.

"I'm happy," she finally says. "We can go on double dates now. Michael and I always go with the same people; it can be boring. You'll have to send me a picture so I can see this guy. Make sure he passes the cousin check."

I roll my head back. Of course, she wants a picture!

"He doesn't really like cameras, but I'll try to sneak one for you," I laugh.

I'm sure she can hear how fake I sound. It's not like she doesn't know my voice and I'm not exactly a great liar.

"Sounds good," she says, but even that has an edge to it.

She says her goodbyes after I mention my break ending and I can't get rid of her fast enough.

I am exhausted the rest of the day and as the offices start clearing out, I think about going home too. One day won't make a difference. Still, I push on until I am sure all of the work with my name on it is done and perfect before I turn off my computer.

Ryu will be proud; it's only nine.

Dragging myself to the elevators, I lean against the wall, looking out the windows to the bright city beyond. From here, it looked like a world from the future, everything made of lights that blink and flash and twinkle.

The doors open and I am only slightly disappointed to find it empty. To be honest, I don't want the Man from Upstairs to see me how I am, all despondent. Not that completely drained of energy was any better.

To my surprise, he is still downstairs in the lobby. Wearing a black suit, he stands off to the side checking his watch. He doesn't have his briefcase with him and the suit is a little more fancy than usual, so he must be going somewhere other than his normal destination.

He looks up from his watch and meets my gaze. His stare is so direct and sudden, that I think my neck might snap as I try to look away quickly as though I wasn't just now gawking at him.

When my eyes drift back over, he is looking off to the road outside. The sharp, pointed nose does wonders for his side profile, and he also has a strong jaw that would make for a great actor, except that I've never seen him make an expression of any kind. But stoic works for models, so maybe that should have been his calling.

Either way, I enjoy looking at him, and I'm sure millions of others would as well. He is the kind of guy that girls would sellout magazines only for the poster inside.

My thoughts wander back to Emily. When she said she wanted a picture, I had settled on using one of those websites to create a face so that she couldn't find him online and call me out. Still, I know no matter what picture I give her she'd find a way to make a comment about it.

But if I had his picture...what could she possibly comment on – he is perfect. Tall, objectively gorgeous, and successful in whatever it is he does. And in that suit, I could tell her we go on incredible dates where he really spoils me.

Feeling like a criminal, I slip my phone out of my bag and turn the camera on to face view. I am the last thing I want to see at that moment. Regardless, I swing my camera around like I am looking for the best lighting for a selfie, pretending that it just happened to be in his direction. Then switching out of selfie mode, I zoom in until he is at the center of the screen.

Up close, he is even better. I malfunction for a moment in utter disbelief that he really is that photogenic. Incredible.

But time is slipping quickly. I don't want to get caught, so I press the button to snap the picture.

In the last second, he turns in my direction.

And then the flash goes off.

Hello! This is a new project I've been working on for a while. I'll be posting here and on ao3 under the same username. I'm not entirely sure at the moment how long this will be, but it's easy to say it's going to be a lot longer than I first anticipated. I hope you enjoy. As always, any thought's you're willing to share are appreciated, but I'm just thankful for the read.

Updates are on Thursdays. Have a great week. - Konix