Work Text:
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.
Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.
“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”
If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.
Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.
Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.
Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.
With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.
“I aim to surprise.”
“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”
“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”
He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.
“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”
“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.
Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.
“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”
He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”
“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”
He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”
“I see.”
You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”
Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.
“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”
“Very.”
“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”
“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”
“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”
He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.
“Aren’t you diligent?”
The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”
“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”
“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”
“Is that all?”
You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”
“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”
“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.
What was that about?
“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”
“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”
“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”
“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”
“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”
“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”
Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!
As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade’s pen waltzes across paper.
“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”
“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”
“And if it was an individual effort?”
“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”
“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”
That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?
You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”
“Do you plan to be?”
“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”
“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”
Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”
“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”
Just what kind of test is that?
“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”
“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”
“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”
“A fine attitude to have.”
“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”
No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…
“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”
“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.
That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?
“If I may ask one final question…”
“Sure thing!”
Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”
More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.
Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.
“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”
“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”
You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”
“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”
Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”
Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.
“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”
“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”
“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”
Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.
And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.
Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”
“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”
“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”
Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.
Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.
Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.
“Will I truly get the job?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.
“On how far you’re willing to go.”
“C-Can he leave?”
Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”
“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.
You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”
“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”
Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.
“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.
It’s not worth it. I should leave.
You should, but can you?
“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”
Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.
I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.
Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.
Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.
From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.
“Will that be all?”
“Keep going.”
“Haven’t I done enough?”
“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”
You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.
You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”
“For now.”
At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.
“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”
As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.
“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.
It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.
I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.
When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.
“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”
The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”
“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”
You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”