Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

Domestic Bliss

By the end of May, we still don't know when things will be going back to normal. Maybe they won't ever go back to normal. Everyone keeps saying that this is the "new normal," but I don't like to think like that. I just want regular life again.

I sit at my desk in my bedroom. My biggest regret since the pandemic had started was that I hadn't invested in a more comfortable desk chair. What had I been thinking? I mean, other than the fact that it was $10 at Goodwill.

This work meeting had lasted over an hour and I was beginning to feel dead inside. I'd waited for what felt like ages to be invited to these meetings, which had seemed so important when I was only an intern. Now, however, after the first few meetings, the shine of my adult job has worn off. 

Being included in the meetings just meant everyone went around in a circle voicing their opinions, disagreeing with each other, putting whatever minor decision we were making to a vote, usually coming to a close tie and then deciding to revisit the topic during the next meeting. This happens every Tuesday at 11:30 in the morning, until someone caves and changes their vote.

Amos clears his throat, and in a slightly sarcastic tone, "Well, this meeting has been very productive. I think lots of good points have been made, but we've been on this zoom call for a while, and I think this is a good stopping point. Does anyone else have anything that needs to be addressed before we go?"

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes, thinking to myself that if anyone else tried to say anything that I would legitimately hunt them down and smash their computer to bits. 

No more work for them.

"Great. Everyone is free to go. Patricia, remember that I want that article on the president's recent address on Antifa completed by tonight. Direct quotes, please. Everly, stick around for a minute, I have an assignment for you."

I sit up a little straighter when Amos addresses me directly. Everyone leaves the zoom meeting quickly. Can't blame them. 

Once everyone has left, Amos, expressionless as always, clears his throat, mumbling, "I hate those meetings."

I chuckle, but don't say anything.

It might not be terribly professional for me to tell him that I also hate those meetings. 

"All right, Everly, I want you to write an introductory article about yourself." Amos says.

I raise an eyebrow. "An introductory article."

"Yeah." He nods, popping an Asprin in his mouth and taking a drink of water. "The people upstairs have decided that we're going to start a relationship column, and I want you to write it. People will write in for relationship advice and you'll respond to them. Can you do that?"

My eyes widen from surprise. 

My own column?

"Of course, I would be happy to do it!" I say, hoping my excitement isn't as obvious as I think it is, "What should I write about myself?"

He shrugs, "Whatever you want. Tell the readers about yourself. Make it punchy. Make it clever. Maybe make them cry. Send it in by Thursday at 2:00."

"Absolutely. Will do." I say, almost raising my hand to give him a salute, but at the last second, I pretend to brush hair out of my face. 

This pandemic has not been good for my social skills. 

What little social skills I had before, that is.

"All right. See you next Tuesday, Everly." Amos sighs.

"Bye!" I say. Once the call ends, I spin my desk chair around, mouth gaping over to look at Draco.