Chapter 1
The office could be described as a maze of grey cubicles. A tiny island of personal clutter, a personalized mug with a half-dead succulent sat on a dull desk. It was illuminated by half-dead fluorescent lights that flickered a sterile glow, humming. The faint scent of stale coffee and printer toner wafted in the air, accompanied by the whir of a malfunctioning air vent.
At 2:36 a.m., the place was nearly empty. Nearly.
Freddy rubbed his tired eyes, leaning back in his creaky chair. His face was illuminated by the glow of his single monitor, his glasses lying discarded beside his paperwork, so tired that the spreadsheets began to blur together in endless streams of numbers. He reached for his coffee, which was bitter and stale, and took a long sip.
A single desk lamp illuminated his clutter, casting long shadows over the stacks of unfinished reports, his sticky notes scrawled with hopeful ink, and the singular picture of his ex-wife. A sigh escaped his mouth, a single strand of hair falling down upon his forehead. The office always felt too cold, making his suit jacket a necessity.
It had only felt like a minute when his eyes closed, yet he felt the hand of a strong deal-maker rest on his shoulder, causing his body to jolt awake, and peer behind him.
The touch wasn’t threatening- but it was undeniably strong. Grounding. It made Freddy hyper-aware of every breath he took. It was only until he heard the slightly melancholic yet deep voice of his boss that he snapped from his daze.
“Good job.”
Servais stood behind him, the towering enigma of the office. The kind of man who rarely spoke, but words always carried weight when he did. His shoulders were broad, a sign of a man who never let chaos or disorder touch him. His expression was unreadable, calm eyes flickering over his screen before settling back to Freddy.
“You pulled it off.” The hand--the touch lingered for just a second longer, before Servais pulled his hand away and slipped it into his slack’s pockets.
Freddy swallowed, his pulse unsteady. “Barely.”
Servais gave a rare, almost imperceptible smirk. “Barely still counts.”
And then, just as mysteriously as he appeared, he turned and walked back to his office. Freddy exhaled, shaking his head. He pushed his hair back up messily. He had only a moment to spare before the enigma of a man returned to his side, papers in hand.
“You’ll be accompanying me,” Servais murmured, low and matter-of-fact.
Freddy blinked. “Excuse me?”
Servais leaned in ever so slightly. “There’s a meeting upstairs, in about.. right now. With the DeRosses. They want to hear all the companies' campaigns directly.”
Freddy’s stomach dropped. The DeRosses, as in the people who ran almost everything in this barren town. The ones who only came down from the pillar of nobility when they were about to dissolve a branch.. or discuss income. Freddy let out a nervous laugh.
“Oh no. No way. I barely even survived this deadline—I’m a mess. My brain is fried, and I–”
Servais tilted his head, his gaze steady and grounding. “Freddy.”
That one word stilled him.
Freddy shook his head. “Okay. Fine. Alright. Let’s just go.” To that, a flicker of approval, maybe, crossed Servais’ face before he turned and led the way to the elevator, the doors slid behind them, sealing their fate.
Freddy barely had time to step back, to pull himself together before the doors slid open, revealing the sleek, glass-walled executive floor. Servais moved first, but just before Freddy could follow, he turned, so Servais could meet his eyes with the other.
“Breathe.” Servais murmured, low and deep, a whisper meant only for him.
And then, he placed his hand—a warm and steady hand—against the small of Freddy’s back, guiding him forward. Freddy swallowed hard, yet allowed himself to be pushed into the room.
---
The conference room was massive—an obsidian table stretched over the horizon of the room, reflecting the dim golden chandelier lights above. Cerise, the window cleaner, noticed the intense aura coming from the inside of the window and zipped away. The head of the company, Baron DeRoss, sat at the far end and head of the table. His reputation alone could crush careers, his suit as crisp as his expression. His dark eyes were sharp as he watched the current affairs.
Among them were other businessmen like the head of directors, Joseph Desauliners, tapping his fingers against the polished wood, unreadable. To his right, the Will Brothers, the three of them identical in their grinning madness. They muttered no words—but they need not to. Power clung to them, unshaken.
And to the left of Baron, sat Alice, leaned back in her chair, her smirk just shy of dangerous. Seated next to her, Orpheus, the adopted son of the Deross family—but more known for his novels. He was a powerful political player for his propaganda meant for his family. Alice and Orpheus worked alongside each other, using their cleverness to keep their family ahead of the taxpayers.
And then, because apparently the company needed them, the influencers Jake and Logan Paul. They sat beside each other, looking oddly comfortable in the room, as if they had a stake in something, bickering back and forth like middle school children. Servais ignored them, leading Freddy to the seat he was supposed to take.
But as soon as Freddy’s eyes found the seat he was supposed to take—he saw him.
Kurt.
The one that stuck out to Freddy the most—Kurt Frank. The traveling salesman known for his courageous adventures—telling the tales wherever he goes. His face was chiseled, his beard silky smooth. A relaxed but optimistic expression, ready for anything this meeting had to offer him.
He wasn’t like Servais, silent and brooding. Kurt was the kind of man that walked into a room and owned it. And Freddy… had always felt drawn to that. Freddy hesitated, his pulse stuttering for the first time in ages. For the first time since… High School.
And Servais noticed.
His fingers pressed just slightly against his back, almost imperceptible in their movements, yet Freddy got chills from the small movement. Freddy wasn’t sure if it was instinct, or something in him, but when he took a step forward, he pulled away from Servais– and moved toward Kurt instead.
He swore he heard Servais exhale—low, controlled, almost like a jealous scoff. Freddy slid into the chair beside Kurt, forcing his pulse to steady as Baron finally spoke.
“Let’s begin.”
The weight of the words sent a subtle ripple through the room. The Pauls stopped arguing, the Brothers stopped grinning, and Joseph stared on with sharpened eyes. Beside him, Kurt draped his arm casually over the back of his own chair, eluding a magnetic presence, which Freddy wasn’t immune to.
Freddy could feel Servais still. His fingers tapped against the glossy table before stopping suddenly. This was a controlled gesture, one Freddy could decipher, knowing what it meant.
Servais wasn’t pleased.
“Joseph,” Baron slowly continued, his voice bringing all their focus back. “What’s the status of the campaign rollout?”
Joseph leaned forward, fingers intertwined. “Marketing put together an aggressive strategy with high engagement projections. We are destined to become one of the best law firms in the world.” A pause. Then, his eyes landed on Freddy. “He can explain it best.”
Everyone in the room gazed at him.
Freddy’s pulse kicked. He had prepared and fought for this—why did it feel like everything was spinning now? Before he could open his mouth and embarrass himself, Kurt leaned and shifted beside him.
“You got this.” He murmured, a small sentence only for him. A small reassurance as a quick smirk tugged at his lips.
By the time Freddy finished, the room was silent, calculating and absorbing. Then finally, Alice let out a slow hum, dragging a finger along the table. “Well, well, well. Didn’t expect a lowly employee to have impressed us.” The Will Brothers exchanged glances among each other, before letting out low, menacing laughs.
However, Alice remained stoic, cocky. Her head tilted to the side. “How charming,” she sucked in a breath of air, “Do you think this is actually gonna work? The numbers barely make a dent. How does it feel to be the only one in the room who thinks this is a great idea?”
“…Alice, I wouldn’t remain so cocky if I were you… your blood relations can’t shield you forever.” Kurt jumped to Freddy’s defense before he could even push up his glasses.
Alice’s smile faltered, yet she quickly recovered. “Oh? And what’s this? The mighty Kurt Frauder stepping in to protect the little underdog?”
“We all start somewhere—though, of course, some people’s success starts in the womb thanks to daddy’s money.”
lice straightened in her chair, giving a low, almost silent hum of annoyance. Her venom soon soothed, her posture changed to slightly defensive, as if she was retreating into herself. For the first time in what felt like forever, Alice was embarrassed.
She set down her hands in a suspiciously calm motion, like she was suddenly trying to avoid all attention, her face stung with humiliation, her jaw tight. “I don’t have time for this.” She muttered, barely audible.
“That’s enough.” Baron’s deep voice cut through like a knife. It was no question, nor request, but a demand. It made everyone’s spine straighten as he glanced between them both. “Kurt. You’re not the one to settle this. I appreciate the defense, but we act like professionals, not like school children.” Cerise the window cleaner zipped back, paused and looked at them, then went back to cleaning windows and whistling at this awkward situation at hand.
To this, Kurt’s confidence diminished slightly, his posture shifted to something more reserved, defensive.
“My apologies, sir.”
Baron’s gaze turned back to Alice. “You’ve made your point, now we proceed as adults.” Alice stiffened barely, more like a child being yelled at by their parents. She offered a tight and forced smile.
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, aside from the occasional bickering from the Pauls about their influencer positions and the cackling from the Will Brothers that egged them on. But nonetheless, work got done, and Kurt and Servais both proved themselves eager businessmen with a hunger to be the next successor of Baron. Meanwhile, Freddy sunk into the background. He didn’t belong here.
During recess of the meeting, he slunk away, hugging the walls as he walked, as if he was afraid of the light even touching his white ass skin. He needed coffee. Desperately. As Freddy was making his way to re-energize, he noticed a familiar presence.
Behind him, like a bounding dog, Kurt’s footsteps trailed the same trail of Freddy. Cerise the window cleaner watched from a distance, waiting for what happened next.
“Freddy!” Kurt called out, keeping his pace measured. Freddy didn’t stop, just ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. Kurt quickly matched his pace, seizing his arm in a swift movement to stop the lawyer.
“What?” Freddy groaned in annoyance.
---
Alice sighed deeply, and bumped into the familiar face of her brother’s fiancée, reminding herself of her own Melly at home. A quick nod of acknowledgement passed them both before they stopped to talk as usual.
Frederick’s hand was adorned with the same white gloves, with smudged ink on the tips due to the paint from the old piano wearing off. A small smile grazed his lips, like a dove offering an olive branch, as nothing but kindness was in his eyes. He looked like a polished version of his Forgotten George skin.
“How was the meeting? You don’t look so pleased.”
Alice stared at him like it was a trick question, a ploy. Yet, she hummed slightly and replied. “Just some useless employee Servais brought. He gets on my nerves.”
Frederick clicked his tongue, “Ah, Servais. He’s always had something up his sleeve… I guess that’s why they call him the magician.”
“They don’t call him that.” Alice corrected, with a sharp glare. “They call him Servais the useless boss.. ‘least me and Baron do.” She barked out a laugh.
“...Hah, I like that.”
“I know.”
Alice paused a bit, and gazed around. Her eyes were calculating as the twink man stood there. She felt nothing but apathy for the thoughts in her mind, and therefore acted on them irrationally. A swift grab, and tug of his necktie, and they departed into the broom closet like Narnia.
The air in the cramped broom closet was thick with dust and the faint scent of cleaning supplies, such as strong bleach. Neither of them had a care, the only thing Frederick noticed was the heat of Alice’s body pressing against his, the uneven rise and fall of their breaths as they stood chest to chest, and the heat from her hands as she grabbed his waist.
Alice had barely shoved the other inside the closet before she kissed him, urgently. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the cramped closet in near darkness. The only sliver of light coming from under the door, illuminating their mess of limbs and tangled hair in between them.
Frederick gasped against Alice’s mouth as his back hit the shelves, a mop handle clattering to the side, yet Alice swallowed the sound, pressing in closer, her fingers gripping at the hem of Frederick’s shirt. The space was small enough that they could hardly move without their bodies touching, molding together as Alice deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding against Frederick’s in a slow tease. Fuck this twink and his dumbass fucking novel husband.
A soft whimper escaped Frederick, his fingers threading and kneading into Alice’s hair, tugging just enough to draw a small, breathy moan from her. Alice responded by pressing a knee between Frederick’s thighs, just enough to make the man shudder.
“You’re loud.” Alice muttered, reading and breathless.
Frederick huffed a quiet, nervous laugh. “Then quiet me down.”
Alice’s hands skimmed up Frederick’s sides, fingers slipping beneath his shirt, tracing the warmth of his skin. Frederick arched into the touch, his own hands sliding down to grip Alice’s waist, whimpering as the warm hands of the other explored his stomach and sides. Cerise the window cleaner was invested, she loved these types of scenes.
Frederick’s breath hitched as Alice trailed kisses and love bites down the line of his jaw, lingering at his pulse before..
---
“Don’t take it personally, Alice gets like that with every newcomer. Honestly, everyone. She’s pretty insecure.” Kurt rested his hand on Freddy’s shoulders reassuringly.
“I guess.” Freddy sighed, the grip on his documents tightening. “It’s clear I don’t belong in that meeting, though.” He pushed up his glasses, “I still don’t why Servais dragged me into there. To humiliate me? Pfft.”
“Hm. Maybe. Who knows what goes through that mind of his…–” CLUNK! The pair both instinctively turned to look at the door of the broom closet. Odd noises were being released from that door. Freddy looked at Kurt, exchanging nods. Hesitant, Freddy approached the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob like a bee.
Freddy opened the door, invading the space with bright light as the ones inside scrambled like mice. It took a moment to blink and recognize the two, and then he saw it.
Alice was entangled with Frederick, her arms around his twink waist as she was seconds away from biting on his pulse like a vampire. Both their faces were covered in a pink blush, Frederick eyes rolling back as the faintest of whimper could be heard before cutting off swiftly.
The two quickly untangled their bodies, pushed each other to the farther ends of the closet, and looked straight at the intruders. Frederick’s mouth laid open, startled, instinctively staring up at Freddy.
“Holy shit.” Freddy stood in shock, his hand resting on the door he just opened.
Alice, the woman who spent the last hour acting superior, belittling Freddy with confidence, was now caught in this sinful act. To her credit, she recovered quickly, smoothing down her blouse as her flushed cheeks betrayed her icy composure.
Alice, with her messed up hair and smoothed blouse, coughed awkwardly. “I have to get to work.” She pushed past the shocked man, and left her affair at the closet on his own.
“Um… excuse me…” Frederick, contrary to Alice, politely slid by Freddy, and escaped into the corridor. Freddy exhaled, a wave of different emotions flooding over him at once. He turned to look back at Kurt, who was leaning on the wall.
“So.” He pulled himself up from the wall. “Remember how Alice humiliated you?”
Freddy raised his eyebrow. “Yes… didn’t you just tell me not to take it personally a minute ago?”
“Well, you could do that, stay the nice guy, or…” Kurt approached him. “You could get your revenge.”
“By…?” Freddy sighed. “I’m not about to tell the entire meeting about what I just saw–and humiliate myself even more?”
“No, but someone in that meeting deserves the right to know, right? Orpheus, Frederick’s fiancée.”
Oh. He had forgotten about that. Technically, Orpheus does have the right to know if his soon-to-be-husband is cheating on him before he devotes his life to him, and, it would get revenge on Alice…
And what Alice did deserve– was revenge.