It was a crisp October morning when the email had been sent. "Due to failure to meet quota, mandatory unpaid overtime is now in effect for the next two weeks." As expected, this caused a wave of groans and general uproar of the normally demure office staff. For me, this meant I'd need to become more adamant about sending applications out. As the disgruntled moanings and mutterings subsided, I pushed my legs out from my cubicle, sending my office chair into the alley of cream carpeted corkboard walls. I stretched my hands upwards, and turned to my left to get a view of the morning sun. If I was forced to stay here later, I was gonna be comfy. As I turned to look, I saw one of the janitors staring out the window. He seemed to have a thousand yard stare, his hands trembling. Had he gotten the memo too? "Not too happy with new memo, ey bud?" I remarked, trying to lighten his mood. He turned and looked at me as the sunlight weaved its way through his fiery red hair, his face spattered with freckles. He was kinda cute for a red-headed stepchild. Behind gold-frame round glasses, those green emerald eyes peered deep into my soul, and there was a sense of profound sadness in his eyes as tears seemed to well up within them. He slowly balled his fist as he slid it into his pocket, seemingly trying not to cry. "You uh... you aight there, bud?" I was only a few years older than him, it seemed. He couldn't be older than 22, and I was 25 at the time, so it wouldn't have surprised me had this been the first job he'd had that'd done this to him. Poor bastard. "I'm... fine." He choked, "I just don't like staying out past dark, is all. It scares me." I couldn't blame him. He was a lithe little fella and about the same height I was, which is to say, average. "What side of the city do you live on?" I asked, feeling a sense of guilt, mostly, as if I somehow caused this predicament for him. "Down towards the woods, just across the river." He replied shakily.
"No shit? I don't live terribly far from that area, 'bout a 5-minute drive down Pemberlane, myself. I could walk ya home if-"
"NO!" He cut me off sharply. Not in a yell, but like a parent scolding a child. I wheeled back in my chair slightly, his face softening. "I just mean, no, I couldn't ask you to do that. I-I'll be alright."
I gave him a disappointed frown. Certainly wasn't expecting to get shot down like that first thing in the morning. "Well, if you change your mind, you just lemme know, okay? My name's Rick." I reached my left hand out to shake his. He stretched out his own long, pale, clammy hand, and I gave it a firm squeeze as we shook. He made a commendable effort to match my strength, but unfortunately for him I was a left handed jerker. His hand felt soft in my own. Despite the cold dampness, it was nice. I smiled, nodded, and rolled my way back into the cubicle. Shaking off the slight sense of rejection, I buried myself in the memo. Further down from the main announcement, were the exact terms and numbers they were expecting to see. "Ten hours per week, clocked at employee discretion." Surprisingly lenient for such a massive corporation, I thought. This would mean some would clock in earlier, some would clock out later, and some would work all the hours in the beginning or end of the week. Unfortunately, for the poor janitor, there were only ten hours of daylight at this time of year, so he'd still have to go home in the dark at least one night out of the week. I don't know why, but I didn't like the way that image looked in my head. I certainly wasn't going to leave the poor bugger out to dry. It was at this point it occurred to me I hadn't even heard his name. Good excuse as any to chat him up again. It wasn't until lunch down in the café I finally saw him. He was sweeping up an area around the garbage bins, and I walked up behind him and leaned against a large concrete pillar. He bent down to pick something up, and I couldn't help but notice how fine of an ass he had. Call me a pervert, but I prefer the term connoisseur. "Hey bud." I said, and he seemed to jump, his back straightening out as he turned towards me. He fixed his glasses as he looked up at me. "H-hey yourself." He replied with a hint of defiance. I decided to ignore it. "Never got your name, hotshot."
There was a look of curiosity that flashed in his eyes before quietly muttering, "It's Jimmy."
I smiled. "Well, nice to meetcha, Jimmy." I paused for a moment, looking for something else to say. "You take lunch?"
Once again, a quizzical look flashed across his eyes but failed to turn his whole expression. It was clear he didn't know why I was talking to him. At this point I began to get nervous, I didn't want to come across as some sort of rapist. "I uh, no... I don't. Can't afford to. Ramen's all I got waiting for me at home, and I couldn't take the break anyways." He mustered out, looking embarrassed at the floor.
“Bah, that's nonsense. C'mon, today's on me.” I told him, patting him on the shoulder and standing him up beside me. Luckily, I had enough clout with the rest of the office that not even any of the Karen's would try and rat his ass out if they saw him taking a seat with me. With how messed up he was in the morning, I felt like he could use it, especially with how it looked like the stress wasn't leaving him. I threw my arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to me with a sly grin. This was a fraternal move I pulled quite often with the more introverted folks, which seemed to work in getting them to relax a bit. “Aight, Stevie, whatcha in the mood for?” I looked over and could tell he wasn't exactly a fan of this. I let up on him a bit, allowing him to stand as far as he wanted, which surprisingly wasn't terribly far. At least I hadn't physically offended him. Jimmy looked at the wide array of options from the buffet as I grabbed the both of us trays. While he still obviously wasn't completely comfortable with this, he knew he was along for the ride and it was hard to deny a free meal. He stood silently, taking it all in. “Sure as shit beats Ramen, don't it?” I flashed him another grin, and to my surprise, he smiled back with a bit of a laugh. “Doesn't take much to beat water in a styrofoam cup of noodles.” That was the spirit. We spent our time idly chitchatting about small things. What brought us here, the weather, how long we'd been working for the company, idle stuff like that. It wasn't long until Jimmy found what he was looking for. A whole heated dish of ribeyes were available, and Jimmy decided to load his plate up with the bloodiest and juiciest of the lot, grabbing three of them. “What, you got an iron deficiency or something?” I jokingly remarked. He got red in the face at this but played it cool, “Ah, nah, it's just not every day I get to eat steak.” Poor guy. He was skinnier and his coveralls looked baggy on him (except for certain aforementioned spots). Probably didn't eat a whole lot period. Can't say I blamed him, I was similar, except between the two of us he looked like a prisoner of war and I looked like I was on a diet. Grabbing a sandwich and a few other small items for myself, I went up, paid for our meals, and sat us down at a table not too far from one of the windows. The midday light poured in and we both seemed glad to see it. For me, anything outside of the sterile office hell was welcome. For Jimmy, well, I would've just assumed he was afraid of the dark. It didn't take him long though to start digging through his food like a rabid animal. He tore through those steaks like they were nothing. It would've been impressive if not a little frightening. I watched as he only stopped to take a breath before diving back in to the seared flesh on his tray. Blood covered his mouth and what little peach fuzz covered his cheeks and chin. When the meat was gone, he slurped up the remaining juices and idly gnawed on a bone as if this was just another day to him. I took a solitary bite from my sandwich as I asked, “Hungry, huh?”
Suddenly his eyes shot open as the realization hit him and he had to figure out quick how to cover. His eyes darted and he began to stammer, unsure of what to say or do. I slowly reached out and gently patted his arm. “Relax, dude, I was just messing with you.” This seemed to help calm him down, his face still flushed red with embarrassment. “W-well I suppose I should get go-” I shook my head. “I paid for your lunch, didn't I?” He nodded. “And I expected you to join me for lunch, you just gonna leave me hanging like that?” I didn't want to come off as some megalomaniac prick who just wanted to see this guy squirm, but I was hoping he would've eased up a little and settled down. “I mean, I can't stop ya” I added, “I'd just find it a little rude if you left. I haven't even finished my sandwich yet.” He paused after the first word I said and stood motionless. He didn't seem to be under duress as he sat back down, but more at ease with the thought he hadn't utterly embarrassed me and was still welcome to sit with me. “There ya go.” I said with a smile. After this, we got to talking about each other a little bit more in-depth. Jimmy had been recently orphaned with his parents both tragically dying in a situation he refused to describe to me and had to try making it on his own. His apartment, while not terribly far from mine, was on a worse side of town, which made his fear of nighttime reasonable. All of this made me feel like a royal asshole when I told him how I'd gotten a full ride through college as a business major thanks to my parents and my dad was able to swing me a decent job here. Now it was my face that was red with embarrassment. Jimmy laughed a bit as I made the comparison, and he seemed to genuinely start enjoying my company. We talked for a little bit more before I asked him how he was planning to work the mandatory overtime hours. I could watch the dread practically seep back into his veins. I felt a tinge of guilt from having brought it back. He played with his coverall in his hands, twisting and turning the fabric, “I-I dunno, yet… ideally, I'd wanna try and find a day where people aren't in the office too late and work that night. It'd make it a lot easier to get stuff done.” I nodded in agreement. “That would probably be Friday, then, if I had to guess.”
Jimmy wilted at this. Having to wait a whole week evidently did not sound good to him. Not only that, but with ten mandatory hours, it'd only be about five or so before it started to count as a double shift, which the company was strictly against. There would be another day he'd have to put the hours in. We sat there, wracking our brains for a way to make this work, to no avail. Finally I broke the silence, “Really, Jimmy, I wouldn't mind taking you ho-” He shot me a glare of annoyance and firmly replied, “No. Thank you.” I raised my hands and leaned back. “Sorry, sorry, just figured I'd offer. I gotta take the subway too, y'know, probably even take the same route.” He fiddled with his coverall pocket as I continued on. “It's alright, Rick. I'm sure I'll be alright.” He lied through his teeth. While some might say this was overstepping a boundary, I was determined at this point to make sure he got home safe, whether or not he knew I was around to do so. Maybe that would be considered stalking, but I really had no other motives than to be sure I'd see him at work again the next day. He was a good guy, decent heart, he was going through a lot. Can you blame me? Eventually we threw our trash into the bins and bid each other farewell, and I went back to my cubicle.
Another 5 hours slowly ticked by, and at this point, the sun had set and my shift was just about up. I looked around at the few other people in the office. It wasn't nearly as empty as it usually would be at this hour, but that wasn't a high bar. I packed up my things, put on my coat and slung my backpack over my shoulder and started my investigation to Jimmy's whereabouts. Maybe he called it quits early? Wouldn't hurt to check. I started by visiting all the janitor's closets. Many of which were either locked or had someone who I'd never even seen the face of before. After that, I checked the bathrooms, once again to no avail. Finally, I remembered that being a team-lead, I had access to timesheets of other people on my floor. I checked and sure enough, Jimmy's timesheet was there. There were two janitors per floor, it looked like. Guess that would narrow down my searches. Checking his clock out, it had only been 35 seconds ago. I briskly walked to the elevator to try and catch him. As I did so, I swore I saw the door to the stairwell shut and the pant ankle of a coverall disappear behind the door. Without debate, I course-corrected and headed for the stairwell. I could hear footsteps racing down the stairs while also trying to be quiet about it. I tried to mimic both the speed and volume, but I wasn't really the athletic type, and I heard the door slam at the bottom of the stairwell when I was about halfway down. I jumped down the remaining flights and burst open to the first floor lobby, completely empty. I cursed myself and felt like I failed him. With no other option but to return home, I began on my usual route through the subway.

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Pub: 04 Oct 2025 00:44 UTC

Edit: 04 Oct 2025 00:55 UTC

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