She wasn't pretty.
She wasn't that smart.
She wasn't skilled in anything.
In conclusion, she was so-so.
But damn hell was she nice.
Well, maybe too nice for her own good. Agnes knew damn well that if she kept doing this, she'll be the one finishing last. Always.
It's not that she's forced to. She wouldn't call herself jaded, but she does feel weary. Choosing to prioritize other people over herself seemed to be the best way for her to avoid getting in trouble. According to her experiences at least.
Like now.
"Agnes, please be a dear and photocopy this for me. I have a meeting with the director and we all know we can't have him waiting." Selena requested with a voice sickeningly sweet for anyone's liking.
Agnes looked up from her report and glanced at the tall pile of paperwork she still had to work on—eighty-five percent of which were dumped kindly by her other co-workers. She looked up to the voluptuous brunette leaning on the outer wall of her tiny cubicle and smiled, "Mm, sure thing."
"Thanks, sweetie." Selena dropped the files on her keyboard before blowing her a kiss. To her misfortune, the weight of the paper caused the computer to exit out of Word. Agnes quickly re-opened the file only to find out that only half of her previous work was automatically saved.
Agnes huffed, her anger subsiding as fast as it rose. She could only do nothing. Struggling could lead to bigger consequences. Selena has always been that way towards her. She didn't know why. As much as she wanted to report, the manager favored Selena, specifically her monstrous sized boobs and basically everyone over her. She'll probably get fired for falsely accusing a fellow co-worker which she definitely does not want to show up on her record.
Letting out a tired sigh, the bespectacled ravenhead pinched the bridge of her nose before going back to redoing her report. It looks like she was going to have another unpaid overtime today.
She worked until eleven in the evening. Somehow, she was able to finish three-thirds of the work given to her. One feature she was proud of was her efficiency. Random people kept handing her their work, even people from other departments, that Agnes could go department hopping and still be able to do the tasks given.
She called it a day and cleaned up her desk, picking up the remaining paperwork to work on at home.
The perks of working in a company as large as Cyan Tech was the obvious but unsaid preferential treatment between employees. As one of its many contract staff, Agnes had no choice but to take the elevator that took forever to get to each floor while those who had good relations with the directors and above and are people of said positions are privileged to take the sonic elevators, hence why everyone was either competing to get promoted or sucking up to the higher-ups.
Agnes did neither which was probably why after two years of working in this hellhole, she was still a mere desk worker that did high difficulty work for others at a lower wage than others who worked less and still got paid higher. Times two if you sucked the manager's d*ck.
Putting on her wireless headphones, Agnes entered the elevator. She leaned her back on the wall and closed her eyes. Her hands inserted in her grey skirt's pockets to warm her cold hands while the files were inserted between her left arm and side. Overall, she had the image and posture one wouldn't expect from the meekest employee—slash—biggest pushover in the department and possibly the whole company.
The music made her relax and somehow the trip down didn't seem so bad. Being on the 22nd floor meant eleven minutes—probably twelve or ten, basically forever— spent dawdling in the elevator. Fortunately, there was barely anyone left in the building. Possibly other poor chaps like her working overtime on work given by their heartless superiors. So she didn't expect a man in an expensive *ss suit to walk in. Great, that's another minute added to the time wasted in this steel cage.
Agnes took a quick glance at the tall stranger and was slightly taken aback as she recognized his face. It wasn't because his handsome. He is handsome. But it was his identity that made Agnes want to scream and run for her life.
What the hell is this heir doing here!? Agnes screeched in her mind.
Scream and run for her dear life is always Agnes' inner reaction every single time she encountered someone who had any of the following qualities. Filthy rich, super-intelligent, eye-bleedingly handsome/beautiful, and basically all things she deemed extraordinary. Those were the character features that she had no idea how to handle moreover interact with which is why she avoids such people like plague.
The man was no other than the son of the founder of Nol Corp, a business empire, and creator of
ARKtech. HER DREAM COMPANY. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, her idol, the man whose shoes she's willing to lick clean, Blayne C. Nol.
In her head, she was crying tears of joy. Just what did she do in her past life to be able to stand in the same elevator with my god? Somehow, through sheer will, she kept her face neutral, another thing she's glad she's good at maintaining. On the other hand, she wanted to crawl away as far as she could away from him so badly. He may be her idol, but he possessed everything she couldn't mingle with.
I can still ask for an autograph, right?
"It's late." His deep smooth voice rang in her ears, snapping her out of her trance. "Why are you still here?"
No, don't talk to me! "Overtime, sir."
"Cyan keeps their employees 'til late 10 PM?"
Your voice sounds so good. Can I eat it?
"On my own accord, sir."
Her answer slightly peaked the man's interests. He glanced at the smaller woman at his side. The woman had an unreadable blank expression on her face which took him slightly by surprise. Her bright ocean blue eyes were downcast, yet they held a lot of depth that Blayne did not expect a small-time employee would have.
Little did he know that the "depth" he saw was actually an abyss of emotional turmoil that cycled from panic to frustration to pure bliss caused by his presence.
"Those files."
When is this agony going end!?
"These aren't mine." She stated simply.
"And yet they're with you." Blayne's tone was consistent but torturous to Agnes.
STOOOPPP!
"It comes with the job," Agnes replied almost bitterly. "I'm pretty sure you of all people are familiar with this company's caste system."
"I don't work here," Blayne replied in a matter-of-factly manner.
"But you have worked here," Agnes replied in the same manner, unconsciously smirking. She was proud that she was able to show off her knowledge. The knowledge that only a true fan could know.
An imaginary tiny version of her was hovering over the two, constantly asking the man to praise for doing her research. Praise me! Praise me!
Blayne's eyes widen so slightly that it was almost unnoticeable. He turned his head to face the woman whose face has changed from blank to one that made the inside of his chest to itch. The girl's eyes were piercing, it was undoubtedly a rare shade of blue as if she could read his intentions (she really couldn't). Her pale pink lips were stretched into a smirk that made him think it was intended to tease him (it really wasn't).
Unconsciously, he found himself glancing down at her I.D.
Agnes Kaye F. Maxwell
Just as he was about to address her, the doors of this god awful elevator finally slid open. Agnes immediately took this chance to flee.
"Well, this is my stop. It was nice talking to you, Mr. Nol. Have a nice evening." She gave him a tight-lipped smile before scurrying towards the exit, leaving before the man could say anything back.
Agnes' legs walked robotically fast towards the parking lot, she would run if weren't for the files. Her frozen expression finally melting into a soft mess. Tears were threatening to drop as shrieked incomprehensibly in her mind. She reached and opened her car door. It was an average black Toyota. Only after tossing the files at the passenger's seat did she begin to have her real breakdown. She began to hit her head on the wheel.
The man she admired ever since high school was in the same elevator as her.
Bang!
Her dream boss talked to her.
Bang!
And he was the one who initiated the conversation!
Bang! Bang!
But wait...wait...she forgot to ask for an autograph.
She screamed.
Her regrets started flooding in her brain. You didn't get to meet a CEO, one of the best ones at that, every day. That moment in the elevator was probably a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get an autograph or even try to get into his good graces. And she wasted it. Why? Because she was busy being a scaredy-cat.
God, she wanted to die now.
She wanted to call a friend to rant about her fortune-turn-misfortune. Then realized, that her friends and family were all staying at a neighboring country and she preferred direct conversations than phone calls when it came to heart-to-heart talks.
She leaned her head on the wheel and burrowed her face into her arms and dwelled into her misery alone.
Well, even if she did try to get his favor. In the end, She's still an office worker who has a presence equal to an ant. He'll forget her tomorrow. After all, she didn't possess any distinct features.
She wasn't pretty.
She wasn't that smart.
She wasn't skilled in anything.
In conclusion, she was so-so.
She was just nice.
....Oh, how wrong she was.
-
LITTLE CORNER (1):
The Nice Girl is Actually a Rich Girl
Blayne: *Brooding in his office*
Secretary: Sir, here is the data on Agnes Maxwell as per your request.
Blayne: *picks up the file and opens it*
Blayne: ........
Secretary: Sir, what is the granddaughter of MAXi Corp's President doing in a 2nd tier company?
Blayne: ........I don't know.
Secretary: If I remember correctly, MAXi currently holds 15% of Ark's shares, right?
Blayne: ........
Little did a certain CEO know that his biggest investor/benefactor was a small little fangirl currently wrapped burrito-style in a blanket in her room, sulking.
