>You open your eyes, briefly. The grip of the bed is still so alluring and you don't want to get-up just yet. You roll over to one side and doze for a bit, maybe a few seconds in your mind, it's all very hazy. You take a glancing peek at the clock.
 
>Shit! You're gonna be late! You launch yourself from the bed, unwillingly anyways. You rush to the bathroom have a quick shower, just to remove the bedhead. You finish whatever you need to do there. You get dressed quickly and descend downstairs without losing momentum.
 
>You meet that weird maid on your way down. Prim and proper as always, she seems rather calm considering yesterday.
"A fine morning sir. Would sir care to have some breakfast?"
>You can't help but slowdown and at least have a proper and polite conversation with her.
"Um no thanks really, I'm kinda running late today and is really in a hurry"
"Sir, I must advise that skipping breakfast is quite detrimental on sir's performance in work" She says allknowingly
"No really, it's fine. I'll grab a bite on the way there or something." You say to her.
"If sir insists."
"Alright then, I'll be heading off now."
"Good day, sir."
 
>You head to your car with a brisk pace only to increase when you have lost sight of your maid. You wonder why you're acting so fidgety. In any case, you start the car and head for work, driving with velocity slighty above your usual one. You skip what you said earlier about catching a bite on the way.
 
>You see your boss on the way up the building. What crappy luck. He just entered as the elevator doors were about to close. Now you're stuck here with the man that could potentially tear you limb from limb just because. He suddenly eyes on you. You feel his beady eyes sting your very skin.
".....You're late, anon."He bellows at you.
"...Yes....I am...." You don't even bother.
>Boss takes a sip of his coffee and continues to eye on you.
"...Just do your damn job. And I want that document on my desk in an hour."
>Ding. Your floor.
"Of course sir." You say back as you step off and into the closing elevator doors. He eyes you still even as it closed.
>God, what a jerk. You'd think your dad would've picked more sociable friends. Meh, whatever, at least he didn't cut your salary or something. Well, at least he did not say it you anyway.
 
>You head to your room. Bring out files and important paperwork. Another day, another stack of shit be sorted. You sift through piles of junk to find the document that was due today. You're pretty frustrated. Junk. Junk. Junk that other people supposed to work on. Then you realize, you left it at home. Fucking hell.
 
>Amidst your silent fit of rage, your colleague enters, Jim, carrying what appears to be bundled folder with stacks of paper close to falling out. Jim is a douche and an asshole but you can't say shit to his face because of his strong family connections. Actually, you realize at the hypocrissy you thought of considering you are in this postition due to more or less the same reasons. At least you don't act like a fucking bigshot.
"Hey anon. How are you?" He says pretty smugly as he raises a fist for a bro-fist. What an ass.
"...Not much, man..." You reply half-heartedly to go along with an even less enthusiastic bro-fist.
"Yea, great great, so listen-".
>His speech was cut short by a knock on the door. Looking through the glass, you can see you secretary motioning for you.
"...Yeah, it's open." You yell.
 
>Your secretary peaks in, her eyes shifting to both Jim and you. She looks partially annoyed.
"Sorry to disturb, sir Anon but you have a visitor for you, kept saying she has something important for you."
"Yea, go ahead."
>She turns back and makes some head motions and leaves.
>The visitor enters the room. Her air of gracefulness fills the room with a feeling of uneasiness. Even her footsteps are light and delicate, just as her shoulders are carefully gliding with each step. And, as always, her beautiful silken long hair further accentuates her dignified manner. She looks mezmerizing with her choice of coat and scarf. You'd prefer her maid outfit though, but that's just you. She stops short of you and Jim. You make a quick facepalm.
"You forgot something this morning, I take it it's quite important." She says as she hands you a little blue folder. You shout for joy internally.
"Oh, well thank you for that-"
"Hey, Anon, who's your lady friend" He proclaims while fixing his suit and tie.
>Great. More crap.
"Oh her? Well... ugh.. she's.." You stammer.
"Well, if you must know, I am-"Crap.
"MY COUSIN! Yeah, she's my cousin visiting from... uh, Europe...yeah." You cut off. She gives a doubtful in your direction. You shrug it off.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, miss...?" Jim douchily broughts up while extending an open hand of a handshake. Or, knowing the guy, a hand-kiss. What a jerk.
 
>Surprisingly, your maid just stood there unflinchingly while giving him a cold hard stare. Her gaze shifts from him to his hand.
"My business is my own. As is yours, I presume." She says as she maintains that shuderring gaze.
 
>That was unexpected. Looks like Jim's a bit singed on the side there. You can practically his ego shattered into a million tiny pieces. Heh. Serves him right for once. But you can;t help feeling that such treatment was a bit too much.
 
>Meh. He'll get over it.
 
>He turns to you, his suave and smug aura holding thin.
"Umm yea, so as I was saying earlier. Mind if you cover a bro?" He says as he hands you those files he brought with him. Your maid gives you a particularly nasty look from behind Jim."I got some plans later tonight and wouldn't want to mess them up."
 
>This asshole. You sigh.
"Fine yeah,... give it here" You submit.
"I knew I could count on you mate." He gives you a slight pat on the shoulder and makes for the door, all the while avoiding medusa's gaze on the corner of the office.
 
>You stare at the file. Fucking thick. Still, least you got to see him taken down a notch.
"If I may, sir, I noticed that sir is quite a bit of, well to put it bluntly, a doormat." She comments to you.
>You don't need an argument right now.
"Yea, yea..." You grumble as you make for your desk.
"What, no retort?" As she sits herself on the couch.
>She gets all uppity when you ask her about her music, spouting none of your business bullcrap but her she is not practicing it in the slightest. You sigh. She did save your ass this morning so you feel you owe her that much.
"...Look, as you might have guessed, I'm not exactly the Great and Powerful Hero of Legends."You lean back on your chair and stare at the ceiling. "It's not exactly, well easy to explain, umm well, to you.... or anybody else for that matter. It's just that." You fumble around for words. You glance at her. She's surprisingly attentive.
 
>You sigh again.
"Let's just say, this really isn't my career of choice."
"I find that hard to believe considering sir's current position in this company." She says as she tilts her head slightly.
"....May dad. Had lots of connections, pulled some strings, made things happen. Now I'm here, taking his seat." you say dimly, staring out the window.
>It's been a long time since you talked about your father. You glance over at her.
 
"...I see." She says calmly. She seems satisfied.
>You silently thank her for not pushing the issue any further. A few seconds of awkward silence.
 
"On another note.... Cousin." She says with a grin, almost...playfully really,. You facepalm.
"Oh. That. Well yeah, I don't really go around saying I have maids in my house. It feels... weird."
"Oh really now? Do tell me, this is quite interesting I say the least."
>You sigh.
"Uh, you've probably noticed that the house actually has a sufficient number of maids already"
"Actually yes, such is the reason I can freely go here, they have all the duties under control, I feel unneeded to put it frankly. I only get the faintest sensation of work from the early mornings when they are still asleep due to their duties."
"Yeah, they're hardworkers."
"Makes me wonder why sir even bothered to hire me."
"Well that's, it's more of an impulse thing really."
>She stares quizically.
"Do elaborate."
"Well, one leaves the service, I go around finding a replacement as soon as possible."
"Then, if I may, why would sir do such post haste, considering the workforce around the house is highly sufficient?"
"Well that's......" You realize something. "That's...." You choke on your words. You fell silent.
".......Please forgive my grievances, curiosity got the best of me. I shall not press on further." She says apologetically.
>You thank her silently again. You hate personal talks.
 
"Yeah no harm done, haha!" You attepmt to laugh it off. She's unamused. "Yeah so I really should get back to work...." You hint.
>She stares at you.
"If I may have permission sir, I would like to stay here for a while."
>You wear a look of pondering.
"As I said, the other maids at home are quite sufficient, I feel unneeded there. I could be of some service to sir here."
>You give in. Actually, it would be nice to have a beautiful girl personally attending to you while you work.
"Sure I guess, that's fine. But please be mindful of my work." You explain.
>She gives a small nod.
"I understand"
>She pulls out a small booklet and a pen and begins writing something. You wonder a bit then shrug it off.
 
>You call your secretary to have the important document be delivered to your boss.
 
>You slave away at your work. Toiling through paper to paper. TIme seems to fly by yet it also feels frozen. Paper after paper. Sheet per sheet. Data. Graphs. Charts. They seem so endless. That is just your workload. You still have to sift through that garbage Jim hoisted on you. You take a quick break to glance the clock. Seems you were so absorbed with work, you haven't felt an our and a half fly by. You peer to your maid, she's still going at it on her notebook thing. Huh.
 
>You continue to slave away. A few more minutes. Your stomach starts rumbling. A packed lunch enters your field of view. You turn up to see your maid handing it to you along with a set of utensils. You're too tired to really deny it at this point. You smile as you take it, she smiles back. Your heart melts a bit inside. She returns to the couch and she also pulls out another packed lunch from her handbag. You think about how prepared she is. Or how she could've planned this to avoid doing work at home. You laugh silently and shrug it off.
 
>Roast chicken with a side of salad. Even as a packed lunch, it seems expertly made, aesthetically wise. You take piece of the chicken. It's as good as it looks. The meat is juicy yet tender. The skin is seasoned lightly to bring out the taste of the chicken. You take a sample of the salad. It's just as good. The leaves of the lettuce are crisp. The tomates are fresh. And the dressing is handmade. Along with the few bacon bits it is accompanied with. Everything is simply exquisite.
 
>You put away the plastic container and the utensils and just as you're about to compliment her, she hands you a thermos.
"It's tea."
>You were never really one for tea but after eating such an expertly made food, you have no qualms about it. You pour some on the thermos cup and take a sip. It's quite hot. But really good. And calming. It was the perfect way to end the meal you had. You replace the cup on the thermos and hand it over to her, who is still eating her lunch.
"Hey." You grab her attention. "Thank you." You say as frank and as honest as you can.
>She stares at you a few moments, then gives you a smile back in acknowledgement. Your heart skips a beat.
 
>You decide to contine laboring at your work. A few hours pass. You finish your half of the workload. You stretch your hands and look at her, she's back to that notebook thing she's been working on earlier.
 
>You shrug and continue to begin with Jim the jerk's side of things. A few hours pass by. Rinse repeat. You struggle with the workload. Rine repeat. Ad infinitum. Rinse repeat. All this shit! God, this is stupid.
 
>You imagine why that asshole would dump this shit on you. You imagine whot sort of shit he's gonna be doing tonight. Probably scroe a few girls and bang them behind his wife's back. What fucking sack of shit. You also imagine what sort of gearworks crank in your head when you fucking accepted this for no reason whatsoever. It's pissing you off and you can't concentrate for shit. You look outside the window, it's getting dark. Outside the office is getting abandoned, save a few others packing their things up, readying to depart. And here you are, stuck with all this shit. Guessing it's overtime for you. You look at your maid, she seems to have dozed off. Even asleep she's still really dignified. You stare at her. Her lips. Her eyes. Her cheeks. Pretty much everything really. She's like a delicate flower that needs to be constantly tended to. She needs a proper rest.
 
>You walk up to her.
"Hey, wake up..." You say as you gently shake her shoulders.
>She groggily shifts her gaze until it lands on you. She realizes she dozed off and sits straight alert and blushing.
"Hey, you should probably head on back home." You reach for your pocket and pull out your wallet. You grab a few bucks and hand it to her. "Here, catch a cab. I still have things to finish here."
>She looks at your hand and back at you. She gives you a condescending look.
"I'd rather not"
"What?"
"Sir is polite for the offer but I feel I must decline."
"Look, you're obviously tired and you need sleep. Catch a cab, go home, my treat." You say, raising your voice a little. You're already a bit pissed from Jim's shit.
"Sir does not have to take care of me. I can handle myself particularly well."
>Sheesh.
"I'm your employer alright, just do what I say." YOu say,e xerting some force in the matter.
>She smirks.
"I find it interesting how sir can stand up to me, who treats sir rather decently, and not to some colleague with a bloated ego who only seeks to use sir."
"Look, please just go. I just want to get this shit done" You're getting pretty frustrated.
"Then sir is a fool to even have accepted the 'that shit' in first place..." She says with a razorsharp tone of voice.
 
>You don't want to argue right now. All you want to do is that fucking workload. It irks you that people take advantage of you but it irks you more when people criticize you for you actions. When people think they got you all figured out and had to jsut fucking stop being a doormat. You never enjoyed picking a fight. You never really hold your ground as a kid. And it fucking burns you when people would simply tell you to 'man up' like it was that fucking easy. How you would turn to ask for help only to find the one you called out to is too busy with work and shrugs it off. And you would complain about being bullied and he would just fucking say 'don't be a pussy'. Like that fucking solves things, Dad! What, stock market problems too important than a son going home bruised and scuffed? Is that fucking it!?
"LOOK FUCKING JUST GO!" You explode at her and shove the money at her.
>She just stands there, horrified, then her eyes glint, pissed, insulted. She picks up the money and leaves, slamming the door behind her.
 
>You feel like crap. You take a handful of documents and throw them to the air as hard you could manage. The sight of the crumbled paper flowing through the air gently and slowly is pretty calming. For the instant that they are suspended in the air, it was as if your resposibilities are as weightless as them. You relish the sight, of only for a few seconds.
 
>You spend a few minutes picking them up again, straightening and arranging them back. You head back to your desk and begin to silently finish whatever work is left. The guilt is not making the task any easier. An An hour passes by, everything is finished. Rushed, yes, though finished is finished. You stand up face the window outside. The endless landscape outside seems to roll infinitely in the dark starry night. In contrast to where you are, in this dull lifeless room, it feels like prison.
"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!!!!!" You let out a scream. You don't know why, you just did.
 
"... How barbaric...." A voice calls out from the darkness behind.
>You turn around, that weird maid. She's standing by the doorway, her face still show her being offended. Her gaze as sharp as ever. But her eyes seem to be calm, somehow. Calm and understanding. At least, that's what you feel its like. She's carrying box of pizza on her left hand. She walks to your desk and plops down the box, not a word said.
 
>You choke up. You feel tears welling up. You try your hardest not to let them fall. You take a slice and began eating it. She examines you all the while. You avoid her gaze. She follows suit, taking a slice and begin eating it. You two eat silently on this room. Only the gentle humming of the air conditioning can be heard. It was rather peaceful. A few slices later and you've had your fill. You managed to down 5 slices and she had the rest. You take the empty box and Jim's documents and head out the room, she follows you behind. You drop the documents on the floor near his office door. You drop the pizza box on a trash bin. You lock your office and you both head down to your car.
 
>Before any of you enter, you face her, keeping eye contact.
"...Sorry." You blurt out sheepishly.
>She still wears her face from earlier, one of anger. Even as she heard your honest apology. She softens up. She gives you a wry smile before heading in the car. You pause for a while. You still feel like crap. But it feels lighter for some reason. You smile a bit and head inside the car.
 
>You drive for home. The trip all the way was a silent one. Even the radios are turned off.
 
>You reach home. You both head in and head for your own bedrooms.
 
>You plop on the bed and sleep.