The baby was in deep contemplation, trying his best not to be distracted by the ridiculous faces Fionnlagh was currently making as he changed his diaper.
"So, long story short, it was the end of the world, and somehow I was killed.
"Looking back, it couldn't have been a cannibal witch that did me in. If I managed to push through the dystopia and find my way to a utopia, then all those cannibal grannies would be a thing of the past.
"Wow. How depressing, I'm actually happy I wasn't eaten by a magical witch. The bar really is in hell."
After changing his diaper, Fionnlagh began to wash the baby, once again making those same faces. It seemed like this time it was more effective, as the baby began to crack a smile.
"Get a load of this idiot. Little does he know he's making baby faces in front of a middle-aged man. What a dumbass, ahahaha!"
The baby's laugh caused Fionnlagh to let out a chuckle of his own. And just as the chuckle left his lips, unseen buildings facing toward the ground began to descend from the ceiling around him.
"Okay, let's get back to work!"
I placed the newspaper down in front of me and reached once again for my original target. The table shook slightly as my oversized stomach planted itself on the desk to increase my reach. Yet, despite this manoeuvre, luck still eluded me.
I hated having to get down from my chair, as it revealed to everyone around me my true height: no taller on the chair than off it.
"Yeesh, I really was a sight that made eyes sore back in the day, huh."
At that moment, my efforts were interrupted by a voice so angelic it grated on my ears.
"Hey man, do you want me to get that for you?"
The cheerful tone was laced with an insincerity that made my skin crawl. Any sympathy from colleagues was merely masked pity, and these people were the best in the business at concealing their true intentions.
After all, the entire company thrived off lies and illusions. That's what it means to be a life coach in the age of Synths; peddling optimism while navigating a world awash in deception. I often found myself caught in the web of my own fabrications, spinning comforting tales for clients while wrestling with my own disillusionment. And since I was paid by the hour for it, I became quite adept at lying to people.
"Nahh, I should be fine, thanks for the concern though, Jett."
"The world would be a better place if you got reaped. I'd throw a whole party, invite every girl you ever dumped, and we'd talk about how much we hate you. I'll even get a cake, one candle for each one of your perfect teeth I'll never have to see again."
"How Ironic…"
My entire stomach was now so far onto the table that my feet were no longer touching the floor. To gain any distance in this position, I had to effectively bounce my belly against the table like a well-rounded pogo stick. This, unsurprisingly, invalidated two of my secondary aims: the first, to avoid drawing attention to myself, and the second, to conceal my meagre height. However, the creaking of the table, combined with my legs now flailing horizontally in the air, only drew the curious gazes of those around me.
The awkwardness of my predicament was palpable, and as I shifted nervously, I realized that any hope of blending into the background had slipped away, leaving me vulnerable and exposed under the scrutinizing eyes of my peers.
This could have all been avoided, of course. All I had to do was stand up, get my phone, and sit back down. However, the situation was no longer as it once was; I had been challenged by none other than Jett. Asking for help was failure; stopping mid-way was failure. And I had no intention of failing.
"There we are; it was a bit further away than I expected, but such is life."
I was victorious. And in this victory, I was met by a one-man chorus of exaltation.
"See, this is why I love having you at this job, man. You inspire me every day to be a better version of myself. No matter what the task is, you never give up."
"What is this guy, an off-brand Naruto Uzumaki? Is he about to yell 'Believe it!' as well? Damn wannabe Shonen protag!"
"I mean, all I really did was just get my phone; it's not—"
"No, it was so much more than that! Even in the face of defeat, even amidst overwhelming awkwardness, you pushed on. Everyone in the office was watching you, laughing at you. I even saw some of them taking pictures—"
"WHAT?!"
"—Despite that, you kept going. I see why you are the company's highest earner. When I grow up, I want to be just like you!"
I was only two years Jett's senior, but saying that out loud would only accelerate the demise of my ego, just as I had accelerated the demise of the desk in front of me with my pogo-like antics.
"Man, that was hard to watch; somehow I'm getting second-hand and first-hand embarrassment at the same time, but oh well, at least I beat that pompous asshole Jett.
"At the end of the day, it's ok if you made your own day worse, as long as the people you don't like have a worse day as well.
"Words to live by."
But what Jett said was true; I was the company's top earner.
Most people would not think much of me, assuming I was just some unemployed NEET living in my mother's basement with no goals, aspirations, dreams, or significant romantic achievements. However, that was not the case.
To the astonishment of nearly everyone who met me, I possessed an extraordinary gift: the ability to motivate almost anyone. People from all walks of life would reach out to the company, specifically requesting to speak with me. If I wasn't immediately available, many would patiently wait for days, unwilling to settle for anyone else, convinced that my words alone could illuminate the path forward in their lives.
Unlike so many who drift through life without direction, I possessed a clear and compelling vision. An aim that served as my North Star.
Yet, in truth, the one thing I wanted more than anything else, more than anyone else, was to find the perfect pair of thighs.