The Internship

Chapter Two

Mitch was right. The first day was definitely not a walk in the park.

We started off with the dancers and they were amazing. The dance was incredibly moving and I had to force myself not to get emotional. Mitch took notes during the whole thing which, in a way, ruined his ability to actually enjoy it. I don't think that's fair.

We then moved on to Tammy for the narrative. It was definitely eye opening. I didn't even realize how I took the people in my life for granted. She expressed her pain beautifully, I wish I could write like that.

Ryan is a genius! His idea was a supernatural, eerie, futuristic short film. It would focus on a man who is alone on Earth. It shows his everyday life and the dangers and loneliness that he goes through. I swear everything in this company is sad and moving.

After Ryan was lunch. It was only halfway through the day and I was already exhausted. How everyone did this everyday was too much for my brain to grasp.

I stood in the doorway of the cafeteria, my eyes scanning everyone. The groups were obvious. The dancers sat in the back corner, the singers sat by the line, the movie makers sat by the water fountains, the artists sat by the bathrooms, the writers sat by the door. The interns, where technically I should be sitting, sat in the opposite corner from the dancers. I knew that I should sit with them but it felt off. I didn't belong with any of these groups.

So I stood there like an idiot for a good five minutes. Someone snuck up behind me and slapped my ass. I turned around ready to practically kill someone but to my surprise it was Mitch. Kirstie was laughing and he backed away with his hands in the air.

"Damn okay, you look like you're about to murder a family," He said.

"Sorry. I just-- I don't know." And I really didn't. I can get angry sometimes over all kinds of things, little and big. And not bothered, but punching walls kind of angry.

"Hey don't sweat it. But cafeteria food is gross come with us."

"Me eat with you?"

"Yes come on." Mitch grabbed my hand and led me out of the large building.

We walked in a comfortable silence. Kirstie was a few steps behind, on the phone with someone named Jeremy.

We ended up at Chipotle. I sighed with relief, I was worried they would take me to some rich people restaurant with food from an unknown country.

"Your favorite too?" Mitch asked with a smile.

"Yeah."

We ordered and sat at a table by the window.

"So how is your first day? Ready to quit yet?" Mitch asked.

"Not yet. Everyone is so talented you know? It's amazing. I don't understand how everyone gets up so early though and goes home so late. And the dancers? They must be sore. Oh! I almost forgot to ask you? Do you own the company? I'm a fucking idiot for not knowing the basic facts about where I'm interning, I know. But I'm curious."

I looked up to see Mitch and Kirstie both looking at me, clearly amused.

"Damn did you even take a breath?" Mitch asked.

"Oh sorry," I said my cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to rant."

"Hey relax Scottie boy. We're just teasing you, it's cute."

I think my cheeks will permanently stay red.

I wanted to turn the attention away from me. "Uh-- can you answer my question?"

"Mitch's dad owns the company," Kirstie said. Mitch tensed. Well actually he froze. It was like he was paralyzed. By fear? I don't know.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Oh damn Mitch I'm sorry. I thought it'd be alright, I mean I didn't say his name," Kirstie rambled, but it seemed as if Mitch couldn't hear us anyways.

"Is he alright?" I asked the question again, maybe if it was directed at Kirstie I'd get some answers.

"Uh-um." She tripped over her words, her tongue twisting.

Mitch snapped out of his "trance" and gave me a sympathetic look. "It's your first day and I'm already pulling out the Mr. Grassi freeze on you. Damn I'm sorry. Will you excuse me? I have to go to the bathroom." Mitch hopped up and practically ran to the bathroom. It almost seemed like if he had stayed sitting with us any longer, he would've stopped breathing. It seemed as if we'd suffocated him.

"Mitch and his father don't get along," Kirstie explained, snapping me out of my thoughts. "They're enemies and he-- well it's not my place to tell. You'll probably find out eventually, Mitch can get lazy and not hide it well."

"Hide what?" I was curious, to say the least.

"Let's drop it okay? I've said way too much already." She began eating again and I guessed the conversation was over.

Mitch returned, he seemed like his normal self. I didn't understand this at all. But I barely knew them and it's none of my buisness, right?

We made our way back to the office once we'd finished eating.

The board meeting was boring. Mitch talked about all the new projects going on. I thought it was weird that he didn't mention his own narrative.

It was seven o'clock once all of that was finished. I was more tired than I'd been in a while.

I was packing up my stuff and Kirstie stuck her head in. "Bye boys. See you bright and early tomorrow."

"Bye Kit!" Mitch called.

I was finished packing up my stuff. Mitch hooked his phone up to the speakers in his office and Blow by Beyoncé began blaring from them. He pulled a beer from his refrigerator.

"Good first day Scottie!" He called over the music. "See you tomorrow!"

He went over to his desk and began typing.

"Do you want me to stay?" I asked.

I didn't like the idea of him staying here late at night and going to the parking garage to get to his car, and then driving his car with alcohol in his system. But I did like the idea of just us in here. With the city lights, the queen singing, and there being no need for us to say anything. It was cheesy, but almost necessary.

"No no! Go home! The first day is always exhausting!"

"Alright," I said reluctantly. I picked up my bag and left his office.
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I collasped in bed as soon as I got home. I did my nightly routine as quickly as possible and sleep came quickly. But before it did I had time to think. What the hell went on between Mitch and his dad? And why didn't Mitch bring up his narrative at the meeting?

He was mysterious but in the most interesting way. And mixing that with my easily irritated and embarrased, rambling, and curious brain almost seemed toxic. Yet at the same time I knew it might work.

But little did I know, Mitch Grassi was much more than I thought. He seemed to be nothing more than talent and money, but beneath that was something more. Something more with millions of secrets.