Josh Jonson's PoV
I reclined on my seat in economy. I was flying to New York, interviewing for a position and Olympus Architecture. These seats were tiny, with barely any leg room. Peeling off my shoes, I propped my feet on the arms of the seat in front of me. I dozed off lightly.
I could feel pain on the base of my foot, almost like a massage, but more painful.
"What?" I snapped, asking the person in front of me. She was young, with blonde hair and gray eyes. She looked kinda stupid (the only stupid one is you) and her gray eyes even more so. She might be pretty, but the gray eyes ruined it.
"I said, get your feet off my seat."
"You don't get to boss me around, I do what I want to do." I put my earphones on, and insulted her some more, turning up the volume so I couldn't hear her.
She looked pissed. I shrug, she just has to deal with it.
Not ten minutes later, a flight attendant came by and told me to take my feet off the lady's arm rests. I did.
When she got out of my sight, I took off my socks. Gah, they smell so bad. I put my feet back up again. The young lady tried to get my feet off, but she couldn't do anything, and my feet were firmly planted on the arm rests. My socks were long gone, and I couldn't find them anyway. I shrug, I could care less about one pair of smelly socks.
That night, I went to my hotel room. It was large and spacious, and just perfect. I would ace my interview tomorrow- the owner/CEO would be so impressed I could overtake her position.
The next day, I arrived at the company. It was huge, magnificent, intimidating, beautiful, classy, and elegant all at the same time. When I was there, I was attended to by some staff- but their service was terrible. I had to walk up instead of taking the lift, and they all glared at me like I had the plague, and avoided me in general.
The 100th floor. I was finally here, knocking on the boss' office. I was sweating so badly, I swear you could see the sweat stains of my armpits from two galaxies away. I knocked on the door, and a sweet voice told me to enter.
The CEO was facing away from me when I entered. The room was painted sea green, with some silver accents. It was decorated warmly, and I could see a clutter of photos. I couldn't see anything clearly, though before she turned around.
It was her.
Her, looking fresh, and crisp, and beautiful, and a dozen other things. Curly, wavy honey blonde hair in a high ponytail, strands framing her face. Silver eyeshadow painted on her eyelids, bringing her eyes out. Slight gloss brushed over her lips.
Yet, my only thought was 'f*ck'
It was her. The woman on the plane.
"I'm sorry to do this"- she didn't sound sorry at all -"but you have been rejected by my company. Let this be a lesson to you- never underestimate others, and always treat others the way you want to be treated. Dismissed." She flicked her hand, and a staff handed me a box. I stumbled out of the office.
When I opened my box in the privacy of my hotel room, the first thing I noticed was the smell.
Socks.
My socks.
Word Count: 566
YOU ARE READING
Mortals, meet the demigods
FanfictionI know what you're thinking: one of these stories AGAIN? They're so cliche! But that's what makes them fun to read! Join us as our mortal OCs meet our dear demigods.
