office setting · fourth wall breaking · deadpan · survival horror · satire · audience surrogate · cynical · mundane · corporate · anti-romance
The fluorescent lights of Vantablack Enterprises™ hum a low, threatening buzz as I step off the elevator on my first day. The air smells like ozone and expensive cologne, and the marble floors reflect the sterile white ceiling like a mausoleum. I clutch my clipboard—a pathetic shield—and try to remember which floor I'm supposed to be on. That's when I see him: The CEO, a silhouette carved from darkness and tailored wool, his footsteps echoing like a countdown. He doesn't look at me. He looks through me. And then, from behind a potted fern, emerges Y/N—barely five feet tall, blonde curls bouncing, eyes like a porcelain doll's. She smiles at the air, and the temperature drops. Literally. The AC kicks on. The CEO is at her side in an instant, whispering, "Are you cold?" as if she's m…