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Description
Nicholas stood in the elevator with a bored expression, the numerous colleagues around him in the small space attempting to hide their unease around the man. He had a feeling he was intimidating; he very much liked it that way. People would try to impeach even the son of the CEO, as long as it meant knocking his old man off of his high horse.

Nicholas usually laid back, as Manager, whenever he could. He would rake in money from his father and the work these sheep called ‘employees’ did, and let the Assistant Manager attempt to keep everything in line. This must of been the sweet life they could only fantasize about, stuck in their unholy cubicles.

As the elevator dinged to a stop, the others in the space rushed out as the doors pulled open. Nicholas walked out into the busy air, with a certain swagger he could manage. The sound of early morning work greeted his ears as he walked across the office building, and reached the heavy oak door his eyes were set on.

Nicholas knocked once, two quick taps with his knuckles, before entering with a smile. “Mom... Didn’t Jessie and Bray come with you today?” he asked, eyebrows raised in question. Shannon looked up and smiled to her son, hair like ink sliding smoothly down over her shoulders, coiling at her chest. Her body was an hourglass shape, despite her older age, and frail. Shannon’s green eyes glittered gently, though were dull with age. Her beloved son always brought happiness to her. Standing and smoothing her skirt, she rounded the desk. “They did... Goodness, where did they run off to?” she asked in a soft voice.

The soft sound of thudding feet came from behind Nicholas, who stood in the doorway, and the raven gave a surprised grunt as something almost tackled him to the carpeted floor. “Nicky! Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, I am so bored...” Braydon whined in his ear. The teenager’s arms tightened around his neck. “Rescue me! Jessica keeps trying to take my things...” Braydon humphed, and Nicholas slid from his hold. His seventeen year-old brother’s face greeted him with a soft giggle. “You never visit us... You look scary!” he hummed, playing with the tie around his neck. Nicholas shrugged softly. “I never have the time...”

“Liar! You always have the time. You don’t like us, do you...” Braydon’s puppy-like demeanor faded. Nicholas held up his hands and smiled, shaking his head softly as Braydon lowered his head, a mop of brown hair falling over his eyes. “Stupid. I love you, kid...” he murmured softly, and Braydon snickered as he lifted his head. “I know... I got you to say it too.” he hummed as he hugged his older, large brother.

“Break Jessie’s face...” he whispered into Nicholas’ ear, making the male scoff. “No.” “Please?” “No...” “Why not?” “Because then she would look like you, and her pretty face is all she’s got going for her.” Nicholas hummed. As if on cue, Jessica walked past the two boys into the office, slumped into a chair and furrowed her brow in frustration and concentration.

“Braydon, how do you increase speed again? Sorry...” she said, crossing her legs with poise as she looked up at the two. “B, Jessie. You press B. What are you playing?” he asked, but his words were ignored. Jessie’s thumb tapped the Gameboy, and her red painted lips curled into a smile. “I dunno. But I escape from the police!” she giggled and paused her game, looking at Nicholas. “Nicky... Hi. Why don’t you come over here and talk with me instead of Braydon?” her face twisted in a sneer to her brother.

She, like Braydon, was seventeen. She, also like Braydon, had brown hair, although her cascaded down to her shoulder blades, while Braydon’s was a messy nest that fluffed to his jaw. Jessie’s brown eyes were lined with a thick layer of mascara and eye liner she believed to make her absolutely gorgeous, which it did in a slight sense, but sometimes she went overboard. Braydon cared about his appearance, just not as much. Nicholas couldn’t bother to care.

However, right now, he didn’t want to see his siblings. His mother he adored, but there was business to attend to. His father hadn’t spoken to him in a while. He wasn’t worried, he would never worry... But his mother seemed to be wary of the undeniable gap that seemed to the cracking apart and filling with discontent.

They were different people, and what the world said about opposites; some never do attract though. Nicholas bid goodbye to his brother and sister, who complained and begged him to become homicidal against the other. His hugged his mother sweetly, as Shannon made sure to straightened his tie and fix his hair, and of course comment on how big her little boy had gotten. Nicholas hid his blush and rushed from the room without another word, walking to the elevator to go up to his father’s office.

Nicholas knocked on the large oak door, which was carved and sanded with swirling designs. “Mmph! Come in!” A strong, rusty voice called from behind the door. Nicholas entered as his father stuffed a red cloth into his front coat pocket, and the older man wiped his mouth from apparent coughing and smiled. Nicholas returned a gently turned lip, and took a seat in an arm chair.

The office was large, there was no doubt about it. Once inside, the room opened up into a circular area, and crystal windows lined the back side behind his father’s large, chestnut desk.

Burgundy carpet covered the floor, small pressed marks from the bookshelves on each side wall. A liquor cabinet was pressed in the corner by the door, hidden from anyone who wasn’t directly looking for it. The two chairs in front of the desk were chestnut, with a reddish-brown leather on the seat and back.

Nicholas hoped to have an elegant lair like this some day, if he were to even inherit this end of the business. He certainly had his set of skills. College had been an easy mistress for himself to slide through, taking up the majority of the past five years of his life. Nicholas flexed his thin fingers against the leather. “Nicholas! What a surprise, come to take more money from your poor old father.” Mason Hanson teased, title blatant and boasting from the golden plate carefully placed at his desk, beside the inkwell.

Nicholas forced a soft smile. He could visit more often; as a respectful adult, he knew that. However being around his own father brought an impeccable sense of discomfort that he could never decipher, not even with his own relentless yet unanswered musings towards even the internet. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been adopted, he hadn’t even the foggiest idea.

But despite that feeling, hanging in the air like a fly constantly buzzing around, he had managed. “Of course not, father. I have at least that much suave.” he joked, and the two men gave faux chuckles. Once Nicholas had calmed, and exhaled the weight from his shoulders, he sat up a bit. “No no, but honestly. I was curious as to how the proposal of expanding the stores elsewhere was going.”

To this, Mason looked excited. “We’re considering expanding to London. Those Europeans might would like a taste of American clothing.” he said with a chortle, and Nicholas couldn’t help but smile towards his greedy father. Such a man had raised him, giving all he could to Nicholas, while teaching acceptance towards one’s greed.

Greed was everything, if the only thing, humans had in common. It could have passed as inferior, but wasn’t everything romanticized around the inferior?

“Excellent planning. Perhaps you could begin by creating a joint contract with a familiar clothing line in Europe... Perhaps Jack Wills? They’re popular.” Nicholas suggested. His studies abroad had proved to be worth the travel time. Mason shifted and nodded. “Perhaps son, perhaps. I’ll be sure to discuss it in our next meeting.” he hummed, and smiling, removing the red handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing his neck.

“Well, on that note, I must prepare.” he chuckled emotionlessly. Nicholas nodded in understanding. “Of course, father. I’ll take my leave.” he said softly, though didn’t say an obvious farewell. The fly was still buzzing around the room, after all these years. Nicholas stood from his comfortable spot and assumed his rigid position in stance.

He smoothed the imaginary dust from his suit, and walked out of the office. Once the heavy door was shut, he visibly relaxed, shoulders drooping in vulnerability. Nicholas gave a deep exhale and rubbed the bridge of his nose softly. As a person, he was not subdued. Simply unhappy. Discontent. Would it be cliche to say lonely? He hoped not.

Nicholas Hanson was not a lonely man. He had survived on simplistic girlfriends over the years, he could manage. Nicholas crinkled his nose, and collected himself. It often disgusted himself, how he did this sort of thing. The small, inevitable sighs that often escaped his lips building up. It was a glitch in the system, a human flaw, to be broken. Nicholas would have none of it.

Description
Nicholas stood in the elevator with a bored expression, the numerous colleagues around him in the small space attempting to hide their unease around the man. He had a feeling he was intimidating; he very much liked it that way. People would try to impeach even the son of the CEO, as long as it meant knocking his old man off of his high horse.

Nicholas usually laid back, as Manager, whenever he could. He would rake in money from his father and the work these sheep called ‘employees’ did, and let the Assistant Manager attempt to keep everything in line. This must of been the sweet life they could only fantasize about, stuck in their unholy cubicles.

As the elevator dinged to a stop, the others in the space rushed out as the doors pulled open. Nicholas walked out into the busy air, with a certain swagger he could manage. The sound of early morning work greeted his ears as he walked across the office building, and reached the heavy oak door his eyes were set on.

Nicholas knocked once, two quick taps with his knuckles, before entering with a smile. “Mom... Didn’t Jessie and Bray come with you today?” he asked, eyebrows raised in question. Shannon looked up and smiled to her son, hair like ink sliding smoothly down over her shoulders, coiling at her chest. Her body was an hourglass shape, despite her older age, and frail. Shannon’s green eyes glittered gently, though were dull with age. Her beloved son always brought happiness to her. Standing and smoothing her skirt, she rounded the desk. “They did... Goodness, where did they run off to?” she asked in a soft voice.

The soft sound of thudding feet came from behind Nicholas, who stood in the doorway, and the raven gave a surprised grunt as something almost tackled him to the carpeted floor. “Nicky! Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, I am so bored...” Braydon whined in his ear. The teenager’s arms tightened around his neck. “Rescue me! Jessica keeps trying to take my things...” Braydon humphed, and Nicholas slid from his hold. His seventeen year-old brother’s face greeted him with a soft giggle. “You never visit us... You look scary!” he hummed, playing with the tie around his neck. Nicholas shrugged softly. “I never have the time...”

“Liar! You always have the time. You don’t like us, do you...” Braydon’s puppy-like demeanor faded. Nicholas held up his hands and smiled, shaking his head softly as Braydon lowered his head, a mop of brown hair falling over his eyes. “Stupid. I love you, kid...” he murmured softly, and Braydon snickered as he lifted his head. “I know... I got you to say it too.” he hummed as he hugged his older, large brother.

“Break Jessie’s face...” he whispered into Nicholas’ ear, making the male scoff. “No.” “Please?” “No...” “Why not?” “Because then she would look like you, and her pretty face is all she’s got going for her.” Nicholas hummed. As if on cue, Jessica walked past the two boys into the office, slumped into a chair and furrowed her brow in frustration and concentration.

“Braydon, how do you increase speed again? Sorry...” she said, crossing her legs with poise as she looked up at the two. “B, Jessie. You press B. What are you playing?” he asked, but his words were ignored. Jessie’s thumb tapped the Gameboy, and her red painted lips curled into a smile. “I dunno. But I escape from the police!” she giggled and paused her game, looking at Nicholas. “Nicky... Hi. Why don’t you come over here and talk with me instead of Braydon?” her face twisted in a sneer to her brother.

She, like Braydon, was seventeen. She, also like Braydon, had brown hair, although her cascaded down to her shoulder blades, while Braydon’s was a messy nest that fluffed to his jaw. Jessie’s brown eyes were lined with a thick layer of mascara and eye liner she believed to make her absolutely gorgeous, which it did in a slight sense, but sometimes she went overboard. Braydon cared about his appearance, just not as much. Nicholas couldn’t bother to care.

However, right now, he didn’t want to see his siblings. His mother he adored, but there was business to attend to. His father hadn’t spoken to him in a while. He wasn’t worried, he would never worry... But his mother seemed to be wary of the undeniable gap that seemed to the cracking apart and filling with discontent.

They were different people, and what the world said about opposites; some never do attract though. Nicholas bid goodbye to his brother and sister, who complained and begged him to become homicidal against the other. His hugged his mother sweetly, as Shannon made sure to straightened his tie and fix his hair, and of course comment on how big her little boy had gotten. Nicholas hid his blush and rushed from the room without another word, walking to the elevator to go up to his father’s office.

Nicholas knocked on the large oak door, which was carved and sanded with swirling designs. “Mmph! Come in!” A strong, rusty voice called from behind the door. Nicholas entered as his father stuffed a red cloth into his front coat pocket, and the older man wiped his mouth from apparent coughing and smiled. Nicholas returned a gently turned lip, and took a seat in an arm chair.

The office was large, there was no doubt about it. Once inside, the room opened up into a circular area, and crystal windows lined the back side behind his father’s large, chestnut desk.

Burgundy carpet covered the floor, small pressed marks from the bookshelves on each side wall. A liquor cabinet was pressed in the corner by the door, hidden from anyone who wasn’t directly looking for it. The two chairs in front of the desk were chestnut, with a reddish-brown leather on the seat and back.

Nicholas hoped to have an elegant lair like this some day, if he were to even inherit this end of the business. He certainly had his set of skills. College had been an easy mistress for himself to slide through, taking up the majority of the past five years of his life. Nicholas flexed his thin fingers against the leather. “Nicholas! What a surprise, come to take more money from your poor old father.” Mason Hanson teased, title blatant and boasting from the golden plate carefully placed at his desk, beside the inkwell.

Nicholas forced a soft smile. He could visit more often; as a respectful adult, he knew that. However being around his own father brought an impeccable sense of discomfort that he could never decipher, not even with his own relentless yet unanswered musings towards even the internet. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been adopted, he hadn’t even the foggiest idea.

But despite that feeling, hanging in the air like a fly constantly buzzing around, he had managed. “Of course not, father. I have at least that much suave.” he joked, and the two men gave faux chuckles. Once Nicholas had calmed, and exhaled the weight from his shoulders, he sat up a bit. “No no, but honestly. I was curious as to how the proposal of expanding the stores elsewhere was going.”

To this, Mason looked excited. “We’re considering expanding to London. Those Europeans might would like a taste of American clothing.” he said with a chortle, and Nicholas couldn’t help but smile towards his greedy father. Such a man had raised him, giving all he could to Nicholas, while teaching acceptance towards one’s greed.

Greed was everything, if the only thing, humans had in common. It could have passed as inferior, but wasn’t everything romanticized around the inferior?

“Excellent planning. Perhaps you could begin by creating a joint contract with a familiar clothing line in Europe... Perhaps Jack Wills? They’re popular.” Nicholas suggested. His studies abroad had proved to be worth the travel time. Mason shifted and nodded. “Perhaps son, perhaps. I’ll be sure to discuss it in our next meeting.” he hummed, and smiling, removing the red handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing his neck.

“Well, on that note, I must prepare.” he chuckled emotionlessly. Nicholas nodded in understanding. “Of course, father. I’ll take my leave.” he said softly, though didn’t say an obvious farewell. The fly was still buzzing around the room, after all these years. Nicholas stood from his comfortable spot and assumed his rigid position in stance.

He smoothed the imaginary dust from his suit, and walked out of the office. Once the heavy door was shut, he visibly relaxed, shoulders drooping in vulnerability. Nicholas gave a deep exhale and rubbed the bridge of his nose softly. As a person, he was not subdued. Simply unhappy. Discontent. Would it be cliche to say lonely? He hoped not.

Nicholas Hanson was not a lonely man. He had survived on simplistic girlfriends over the years, he could manage. Nicholas crinkled his nose, and collected himself. It often disgusted himself, how he did this sort of thing. The small, inevitable sighs that often escaped his lips building up. It was a glitch in the system, a human flaw, to be broken. Nicholas would have none of it.