Eric's eyes fluttered open the next morning, and Melissa was frantically pacing across the room, grabbing all his clothes and throwing them at him, similar to the last time.
He raised an eyebrow, "What are you doing? I got fired, I don't need to be there—"
"I knew you wouldn't remember anything from last night," she breathed in panic, searching through his bedroom for a pair of socks, throwing one at him. He caught it, bewildered completely and she hissed, "Put your clothes on."
Afterwards, he brushed his teeth while she fixed his hair, "You'll understand later." He obeyed her, and when he exited the room, he had not been expecting seeing the tall built inside his home.
Draven H. Malcom was sipping on his coffee, reaching for the cabinets and examining all its entities, before a grimace pulled his features and he turned away. He was well-dressed, a suit over his shoulders with a tight black polo and a gold chain around his neck. His black hair was slicked backwards, and his eyes seemed bright as they landed on Eric.
Eric was certain he saw a smile, but that did not help that he was extremely bewildered.
Draven raised an eyebrow, "Are you ready?"
Eric frowned, turning to Melissa, "What's going on?"
Draven grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him towards the door before Melissa could respond. "I'll explain on the way," he waved at Melissa before exiting the appartement, Eric walking in front of him stressfully and avoiding meeting his gaze.
Draven stepped around him, and descended the stairs, groaning as he drank his coffee, "How the hell does your appartement have no elevator? That's so annoying."
Eric gulped, unsure whether to apologize even though he was not the one that created this building.
When they exited the appartement, Draven approached one of the most elite cars he had ever seen, and he pulled the back door open, slipping inside as Eric merely eyed him strangely.
He raised his eyebrows, "Are you going to come in or stand there and stare at me the whole time?"
Eric found himself sitting a seat away from the Draven H. Malcom, author of multiple New York Times best seller and well-known amongst the world. He never thought this would ever happen, but Draven seemed to be calm, not caring at all that Eric was there. And he had lied as well; he did not explain anything that was going on.
When they reached the agency, he placed his card against the door, and entered; the building was still empty, the secretary was not there. He reached the elevator, and waited until Eric entered until he pressed the button to his floor.
For Draven, it was no surprise to find a few of his staff members sleeping on their desks, although it was strange to Eric, who marched past them, following Draven and tightening his bag to him.
Draven reached a desk amongst the rows, an empty one, and stopped there, turning to Eric who gulped, a bit scared by his presence.
"This is where you will work," he informed, not even a trace of a smile on his face, "every morning at nine a.m, most of my editors end at five, but a few stay behind to work even more when deadlines are near, which they do get paid double. We all sometimes stay overnight if deadlines are tough, but most people can even leave as early as three."
Eric rapidly nodded his head.
"Obviously based on your title, you'll be storyline and design editor, telling me if you find something wrong, odd, doesn't make sense, or even have better ideas which I do give credits to all my editors. The editors here are all friends, so I hope you can fit in with them. That's about all I can say for now. I don't give you the work, my secretary does and be extremely careful what you say around her, since her work is flawless but she gets offended insanely easily."
Eric still appeared confused, and Draven raised an eyebrow, "Something the matter?"
"I-I thought I was fired..." he breathed quietly.
"You were."
"But then, why—"
"Your portfolio is flawless," he admitted, "worked with the editors of J.K Rowling for the book the Cursed Child at seventeen. Even if you did barely anything, being in that environment is an experience not many writers have. You even finished your masters in Creative Writing; I didn't even do that, and most of the editors here did not even finish University. You have a bunch of experience, which is not something you find often."
Eric eyes widened: it was thanks to Justin.
"Besides, you're not that bad looking either, a good face for my office," he nodded his head in a serious tone. That was about the time the staff members began entering, and the ones sleeping began waking up. When they were all in the office, having waved at Draven and greeted him, he captured all their attention.
"Everyone, I just wanted to introduce our new editor. His name is Eric, and he'll be working on the Cold Shoulder with me." Eric was not surprised when no other smiled at him, or waved at him, rather rolled their eyes. Draven smirked, "The deadlines for the chapter of Midnight Ravens is in four days, how is that coming along Jason?"
"I'm almost done looking your chapter over, sir," a man named Jason said from the back. He had large glasses that sat on his crooked nose.
Draven nodded his head, "Perfect. I'm assuming most of you are working on the chapters from Greg Hitcher and Witches?"
A bunch of them nodded their heads; Draven had drawn seventy chapters for that comic book, which had not yet been completely edited. The deadline was in a month, and he was not too worried.
He was seconds from turning away and entering his office when a staff member called after him. She was tiny, slim who also had glasses perked on her nose, and Draven did not seem to like her, as he raised an eyebrow annoyingly.
"How is it fair that he gets to work on one of your newest projects before any of us? I've been here for five years and always get the backups."
A few seemed to agree, and Eric gulped: he didn't want them to hate him from the beginning.
He was going to speak and say that he would gladly switch with her, but Draven spoke before him, in a loud and angry tone that caused all of them to immediately squeezed their lips shut.
"Do not ever speak to me in that way, ever in your life. And I assume it's because you have never been good enough for any of my newest projects, so be upset with yourself. If you don't like it, I'll gladly replace you."
He hissed a curse word under his breath before storming into his office, and slamming the door behind him.
Miranda narrowed her eyes in Eric's direction, to which he squirmed and grabbed the seat at his desk. Along with that, Eric had also received the closest desk to Draven's desk, which many of them had wanted.
Hence why, from the moment Eric stepped into Draven H. Malcom's floor, jealously was already clandestinely setting into the atmosphere.
During the time there, Draven exited his office a few times, but did not glance even once at Eric, who examined the colouring, the design and the storyline of Draven's characters in Cold Shoulder.Frankly enough, he was unsure whether he was supposed to be honest to him, since what he read was complete garbage. The characters made not a single sense, as if they were running around as chickens with their heads cut off. There were extreme grammar errors that a bunch of sentences needed to be re-written. He even had difficulty reading those paragraphs, since multiple lines were run-on sentences, awkwardly written, or simply did not make at all any sense whatsoever.He certainly needed a drink, maybe coffee, hence why he deposed his pen and headed towards the elevator. No editors had yet greeted him, and they did not seem to favour him, a few glancing with narrowed eyes in his direction.He descended to the main floor, and was seconds from marching to the cafeteria when Justin walked by,
"I got the badge!" he screamed again, taking another shot of the vodka on the table and Jason harmonized with him, a few from the staff doing so as well.Melissa had joined them, taking a few shots but settling when she found herself feeling a bit sick. Eric showed the badge to everyone, bragging about it as he continued friendly conversations with them.Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "He did that trick to all of us; I said I wanted to quit after reading it because I thought he was a fraud."Eric laughed, "I was seconds from not telling him, but I didn't want to lie.""I almost failed since he scared the brakes outta me," a woman said, Rebecca, as she reached for her drink. She was seated on the other side of Jason, "He made me cry.""He made Miranda cry," Jason chuckled, "but she's not any good. Of course we're all jealous that you got that spot faster than all of us, but she sucks.""Then why does he keep her?" Eric asked."It's his step-sister's niece, but he seriously
Such peacefulness, his body distorted as he snored even louder than a train. Drool was falling from the corner of his mouth, but what he was dreaming was worth any drool ok his favourite superman pillow, the one he kept ever since he was eleven.He was eating his favourite food, a triple patties bacon burger filled with mustard, spicy sauce and a bit of barbecue sauce, extra onions and he sometimes even placed his golden crispy fries between the patties, with fresh melted cheese.His teeth were savagely devouring the entire burger, the taste exploding across his mouth and all his hormones began racing, as he continued to chew and chew. More he wanted, as he enveloped another huge part with his teeth, and swallowed before it was even chewed properly.He could not get enough.However, he frowned when the burger began speaking; it was screaming his...name?"Eric!""Eric!"His brows furrowed even more, and with widened gaze, it seemed the burger was now attempting to eat him. In his sleep
"Eric, you're making a scene," Melissa growled, slapping the top of his head as he groaned, sniffing.He raised his head from the table, the red on his cheekbones much more visible as he raised his hand, the waitress bringing him another shot.Melissa frowned at him, "Why do you keep taking shots if you're just going to cry even harder?"His eyes were a bold red, as he made a face before meeting Melissa's gaze, and bursting into tears again.He breathed through his throat clogged, "He fired me without even asking me about my day, who I was or anything. I was made fun of throughout the entire time I was there.""In his defence, and as I mentioned two seconds ago for the fiftieth time, you got there late and without any shoes?""He could even hear my explanation though?" he raised an eyebrow.Melissa shrugged her shoulders, "I wouldn't either."He hated when Melissa was right, but she usually was. Melissa oftentimes got on his nerves. She was his closest friend that remained with him af
"I got the badge!" he screamed again, taking another shot of the vodka on the table and Jason harmonized with him, a few from the staff doing so as well.Melissa had joined them, taking a few shots but settling when she found herself feeling a bit sick. Eric showed the badge to everyone, bragging about it as he continued friendly conversations with them.Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "He did that trick to all of us; I said I wanted to quit after reading it because I thought he was a fraud."Eric laughed, "I was seconds from not telling him, but I didn't want to lie.""I almost failed since he scared the brakes outta me," a woman said, Rebecca, as she reached for her drink. She was seated on the other side of Jason, "He made me cry.""He made Miranda cry," Jason chuckled, "but she's not any good. Of course we're all jealous that you got that spot faster than all of us, but she sucks.""Then why does he keep her?" Eric asked."It's his step-sister's niece, but he seriously
During the time there, Draven exited his office a few times, but did not glance even once at Eric, who examined the colouring, the design and the storyline of Draven's characters in Cold Shoulder.Frankly enough, he was unsure whether he was supposed to be honest to him, since what he read was complete garbage. The characters made not a single sense, as if they were running around as chickens with their heads cut off. There were extreme grammar errors that a bunch of sentences needed to be re-written. He even had difficulty reading those paragraphs, since multiple lines were run-on sentences, awkwardly written, or simply did not make at all any sense whatsoever.He certainly needed a drink, maybe coffee, hence why he deposed his pen and headed towards the elevator. No editors had yet greeted him, and they did not seem to favour him, a few glancing with narrowed eyes in his direction.He descended to the main floor, and was seconds from marching to the cafeteria when Justin walked by,
Eric's eyes fluttered open the next morning, and Melissa was frantically pacing across the room, grabbing all his clothes and throwing them at him, similar to the last time.He raised an eyebrow, "What are you doing? I got fired, I don't need to be there—""I knew you wouldn't remember anything from last night," she breathed in panic, searching through his bedroom for a pair of socks, throwing one at him. He caught it, bewildered completely and she hissed, "Put your clothes on."Afterwards, he brushed his teeth while she fixed his hair, "You'll understand later." He obeyed her, and when he exited the room, he had not been expecting seeing the tall built inside his home.Draven H. Malcom was sipping on his coffee, reaching for the cabinets and examining all its entities, before a grimace pulled his features and he turned away. He was well-dressed, a suit over his shoulders with a tight black polo and a gold chain around his neck. His black hair was slicked backwards, and his eyes seeme
"Eric, you're making a scene," Melissa growled, slapping the top of his head as he groaned, sniffing.He raised his head from the table, the red on his cheekbones much more visible as he raised his hand, the waitress bringing him another shot.Melissa frowned at him, "Why do you keep taking shots if you're just going to cry even harder?"His eyes were a bold red, as he made a face before meeting Melissa's gaze, and bursting into tears again.He breathed through his throat clogged, "He fired me without even asking me about my day, who I was or anything. I was made fun of throughout the entire time I was there.""In his defence, and as I mentioned two seconds ago for the fiftieth time, you got there late and without any shoes?""He could even hear my explanation though?" he raised an eyebrow.Melissa shrugged her shoulders, "I wouldn't either."He hated when Melissa was right, but she usually was. Melissa oftentimes got on his nerves. She was his closest friend that remained with him af
Such peacefulness, his body distorted as he snored even louder than a train. Drool was falling from the corner of his mouth, but what he was dreaming was worth any drool ok his favourite superman pillow, the one he kept ever since he was eleven.He was eating his favourite food, a triple patties bacon burger filled with mustard, spicy sauce and a bit of barbecue sauce, extra onions and he sometimes even placed his golden crispy fries between the patties, with fresh melted cheese.His teeth were savagely devouring the entire burger, the taste exploding across his mouth and all his hormones began racing, as he continued to chew and chew. More he wanted, as he enveloped another huge part with his teeth, and swallowed before it was even chewed properly.He could not get enough.However, he frowned when the burger began speaking; it was screaming his...name?"Eric!""Eric!"His brows furrowed even more, and with widened gaze, it seemed the burger was now attempting to eat him. In his sleep