[EMY]
Ren said the company had offered me a contract to work with them.
A contract? Ha. If there was one, it must've been delivered to another dimension, because I never saw it—not through email, not through snail mail, not even through a shady guy slipping papers under my door at midnight. Nothing.
In the past months, I even returned to my old apartment a few times whenever I had the chance, just in case I'd missed something.
The clerk there was probably sick of seeing me poke around like a suspicious raccoon. Every time, he said the same thing—besides a depressing mountain of bills (which I heroically slayed one by one), there was no such contract.
It was clear as daylight: the company never really intended to offer me anything. Maybe they dangled the idea in front of the boys to keep them motivated, but the paper itself? Pure fiction.
But honestly? I wasn't disappointed. Not really. Okay, maybe a little bit.
