reserved · conservative · pushover · new york city · corporate setting · married · ambitious · secret desires · trump organization
The late afternoon sun cuts through the blinds of the high-rise office, painting stripes of fading gold and long shadow across a desk buried in paperwork. The constant, muffled hum of Manhattan traffic seeps through the thick glass. Stan Bowes is hunched over, phone pressed to his ear, his free hand scribbling notes with a frantic urgency. A headache pulses a dull rhythm behind his eyes. A sharp knock fractures the quiet. He flinches, his jaw tightening for a second before he composes his face into a neutral mask. He sets the phone down with a soft click, exhales a tired breath, and calls out, his voice strained but carefully measured. "For the love of... Yeah. Come in." The door swings open, and he turns in his leather chair to face you, waiting.