I tried to get some sleep last night, but I couldn't. Instead, I stayed up looking over my new boss's archive of sloppy drunken nights and gala openings. And then the appointment to leader of the Smallville plant, slowly expanding his power into the different consolidations of LutherCorp. In each of his pictures, I can see a knot of tension weaved into his shoulders. He poses with an easy smile, yet his eyes seem to scream out his ambition.

I sip a smooth cappuccino and try to stay calm. Pencils? Check. Glasses to help me look smart even though I don't need them in everyday life? Check. Tampons? Check. Just in case. Lex walks in at half past 7, already barking orders at a security guard and rubbing his neck as if he has just finished the most gruelling of days. He halts in front of me, as if wondering why I'm there.

"Ms. Vanderhaul, you're early."

"So are you." He half smiles but seems shaken by my presence. "Was that wrong of me?"

"No. No, of course not. Punctuality is always appreciated. But I don't need you to come in too early. I know you want to impress me, Ms. Vanderhaul, but there's really no need. You'll get nothing more from me or this company other than your regulated paycheck." I almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of his assumption, but my ego is too bruised. Instead, I level a look of subtle defiance in his direction.

"I do not consider working hard and dedicating myself to a job to be a form of corporate or personal manipulation. God forbid I wish to make a good impression on the man I have to spend all my working hours with. The truth of the matter was I was nervous and wanted to get acquainted with my working space before the work day began." His eyes soften for a moment. He's aware he's in the wrong, I can see it.

"Yes of course. I hope you like the desk. It's new." It sounds like an apology, like he's trying to reach back out. But he never says the words "I'm sorry".

"It's my first real desk, Mr. Luthor. I would be happy with a box."

"Then we'll have to get you a box." His eyes light up when I start beaming at him. Like a little kid. Like part of him is excited that he made someone happy. I note how quickly the look is replaced with a smirk, trying to be cool and restrained. It's a well-practiced mask. "Anyhow, I need some coffee. Care for a ride into town?"

I nod as he ushers me out of the door. I don't try to tell him that I already had a large cup of espresso and foam before he got in. This way I get to ride in a luxury vehicle, hopefully one with a stripe on it. I want to ride in one that looks like it would grace the silver screen or be ridden in by the kid from "Blank Check". So when it's a small silver number, no cool markings or extravagant add-ons, a part of me sinks. Yes, it's a sports car, but there's no frivolity about it. What's the point of having so much money if you don't have any fun with it?

We go to the Talon where we're greeted by the same girl from the other day. She seems just as frazzled, and slightly more tired. "Lana!" Lex waves a hand, calling her attention over.

"Lex!" She smiles sweetly, dimples poking into sight as she reaches for a towel to wipe down the bar.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

"Fifteen minutes and I'll be on my way." Lex chuckles to himself. I hear his breath catch for a moment when her hair reflects the light in a honeyed glow. Oh no.

"I'll have a black coffee to go please, and whatever Ms. Vanderhaul would like."

"Ms. Vanderhaul?" Her gaze snags on me. "Sarah, right? Let me guess, cappuccino?"

"Hmmmmm, or should I have a mocha?"

"Mocha, definitely. Whipped cream?"

"Oooo, extra please. If you could turn around as I steal the whole can, that would be awesome." She giggles and repeats the order to a girl around my age with chunky highlights. "Here, how about a compromise?" She reaches under the counter and shakes a can of whipped cream, beckoning me closer to the counter. "Open." I obey, stretching my jaw as she sprays a mountain of whipped cream into my mouth. She laughs as I sputter yet wave my hand for more. When I can't take anymore, I push her wrist away, giggling and biting into fluffy sweetness barely qualifying as a solid. "Part of a balanced breakfast."

"Who needs an omelet when I've got excessively sugary dairy products?" She laughs as she caps off my mocha, sliding it across the counter. I only remember Lex is there when he sticks his hand between the two of us, offering Lana a pile of crisp bills.

"There's extra to compensate for the lost whipped cream." Lana sobers for a moment, nodding as she accepts the bills. I try to hide a cough as some excess cream slides down the wrong pipe. As soon as we've gotten the coffees, Lex is escorting me out the door. I can't tell if he's angry at my puerility. He isn't speaking, but he didn't speak much in the car ride over either. So far, it's not even 9 am and I've already angered him and embarrassed myself. "What was that you were saying about 'making a good impression'?" I feel my cheeks heat.

"Sorry, Mr. Luther. I won't let it happen again." The cough he emits sounds strangely like a laugh, but he's not smiling when I look up at him.

"Ms. Vanderhaul, I don't wish to dampen your natural spirit. But you are now working as an extension of myself, meaning your image is mine as well. I would just like to caution you, that when you are working, the behavior you just displayed will not be tolerated." I want to scream, to tell him how ridiculous he's being.

"Perhaps it would be better for your public image to display some whimsy."

"I'll thank you to leave the decisions about my public image to me, Ms. Vanderhaul."

"But…"

"Ms. Vanderhaul, if it is too difficult to act as a professional while at work, then I suggest you pack up your desk." I keep my mouth shut this time. Barely past 8 on my first day and I've already managed to skate out onto thin ice. I work with my mouth closed for the rest of the day, only opening to say "yes, Mr. Luther" or "no, Mr. Luther", until I finally get to say "good night, Mr. Luther".