𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

"Okay," I sighed sharply, my mind made up. I'll tell Adil that I choose Keenan right after dinner with Alicia and Dominic. Attending this get-together would relieve my self-disappointment from the lengths this man took: wasting his time waiting for a simple ol' Gianna. My only problem then would be Dominic, but as Adil said: we'll go as friends.

I nodded slowly, "Okay, I'll go. When's dinner?"

The man smiled, soft and appreciative, though I could not shake off the sense of mysterious knowingness behind the gorgeous grin. I ruled it off as a subconscious false feel, probably due to Keenan accusing the boy of being manipulative. "Tomorrow night," said Adil, "I'll pick you up?"

My head shook left and right, "No, just send me the deets."

Adil seemed satisfied. With a new-found joy, he leaned forward and dug into his meal before the food could cool completely. He spoke again, "What was it you were gonna tell me?"

I did the same, grabbing a fork and poking macaroni with the thin tines, "That, uh... I got a job at Contented Inc."

He paused. After a look of confusion, he smiled wide, "Really? Congratulations." the sincerity was unquestionable. One of Adil's good traits I admire is his enthusiasm towards my little successes, all the more reason I wish he had come another time—a time when I'm not involved with a fucker named Keenan.

For the rest of lunchtime, I steered the conversation away from any Travino, Jensen, relationships, and mentorship programs. It came to my knowledge that Ralph has been seeing Adil's neighbor again. I made a note to piss him off later for not telling me, though I can think of his reason why: she'll be temporary much like the others.

Despite Adil's persistence, I did not let him pay for my meal. After a hug and a 'See you soon', he watched me board Lemon and drive away, unbeknownst to my next location: the glass and concrete monster that is Contented's building.

I memorized the route to Liddell's office the last time. The receptionist was a young man who looked to be in his early twenties. I came to notice that Jensen's employees are very young with exceptions like Harold Liddell for positions that look over the young ones.

The elevator ride was quick and before I knew it, Liddell was in front of me again, dull as always in a dark brown suit topped off with a face of boredom. After the many stories depicting cruel co-workers, I'd say that looking at the bright side, my associates could've been worse.

The tour was not the only reason why I had to visit before I start. According to Mr. HR who is always on his period, I'd be signing a set of contracts. That was the quick part, done under thirty minutes. Once that was finished, the old man and I walked the colorful hallways of my new workplace.

First came the breakroom nearby, right by the corner where Keenan appeared days ago. Sure enough, there were churros in a glass container keeping them warm. That was the highlight, really. Other food was in cabinets and the fridge along with surprise, surprise: drinks. I was then shown to all essential areas: copy room, storage room, and offices of people I'd be annoying—Liddell's word, not mine.

People of the same position as me are grouped by eight in shared offices. I did not bring any things to drop off yet so I only caught a glimpse through the window. The space tied in with the colorful scheme—orange, green, yellow, purple, and all other hues that you'd think would not come together, but somehow, the designers for Contented made it work. They were aiming for a creativity-inducing place, said Liddell.

Through the window, I saw one desk empty; of strong presumption, it was mine. I was not introduced to who I'd be sharing the room with, but they saw me through the window just as I saw them. The roundabout went on for at least an hour, understandable when Liddell also spewed necessary facts like a tour guide. We found ourselves back in his office with too much time to spare.