Chapter Text
When the alarm clock radio comes to life, the day seems completely ordinary. The weather outside is pretty nice for a day in Midgar, and Sector 8 is already buzzing by the time I manage to roll myself out of bed.
“Bed” is a bit of a stretch in and of itself - the old mattress on the floor is curved to my form now, dotted with stains from my habit of eating my meals there. The smell of the room indicates that my sheets could use a wash, but it’s such a pain to drag them to the laundromat… Maybe it can hold off until next week.
I, however, cannot go without a wash any longer. The shower is always the first stop, and the fact that my building never seems to have any hot water makes for a great wake-up call. The blue dye in my hair colors the water as it makes its way down the drain. I make it quick, reveling in the warmth on the towel that lingers from where it had been sitting in the sun near the window.
Mornings are always so blurry. I grab my oval wire-frame glasses and toss on my clothes, making sure that my tie is snug against my collar before grabbing my bag and pulling on my shoes. According to the wall calendar, today marks the ninth Monday of my internship. Three left to go. I try not to think about what will happen then… In the best-case scenario, I’d get hired, but the chance of that happening right now is slim to none.
One day at a time, Lane. You’re gonna kick this one’s ass.
Most Midgarians will bitch about their commute, but I rather enjoy mine. I live on the outer edge of the Sector 8 plate, about as slummy as you can get on the upper plates. It’s a picnic compared to what’s below, but it’s still about the cheapest housing there is up here. Someday, when I have a good job, I’ll move closer to Sector 0. But, then, I’d lose out on this wonderful morning train ride. The city isn’t the prettiest thing to look at, but the white noise makes for such a lovely setting for fantasies of all kinds. Today, I can’t help but dream of what my future house might be like… Little details come to mind, like tall glass windows, carpeted staircases, and separate sinks for the kitchen and bathroom.
Little luxuries, I tell ya.
Eventually, the train pulls to a stop, and it’s time to fight the crowd as we all make our ways toward the shining beacon in the middle of the city - the Shinra building, smack dab in the center of Midgar. For several years now, I’ve dreamed of working here, and now I’m living that dream.
Almost. Still just an internship… But at least it’s a paid gig.
The administrative wing is where I call home, down on one of the lower levels of the building. I work in a subsection of the PR department, doing internal communications as a part of the photography team. Not that I’m doing very much photography. It’s mostly just photo editing and graphic design, though I’ve had the chance to sit in on a few important shoots, and sometimes they toss a camera at me when they need a big event covered. I’m grateful for every second of it, honestly - photography is my passion, and getting to do it as a career is my dream job. And nothing says success like a Shinra badge.
“Morning, Elliott,” a gentleman from PR waves at me, addressing me by the last name on my lanyard. We almost always get in the elevator at the same time, so we exchange these acquainting pleasantries like clockwork.
“Morning, Peters,” I smile in return. The rest of the ride is silent, but it’s short, so it isn’t too awkward. We trade grins and nods before we take our different directions down the hallway - me heading toward the photography and video studios, and him heading toward the PR bullpen.
My department supervisor, Marjorie, brews coffee and brings up breakfast from the employee cafe each morning. It’s super kind of her, and I’ve made a habit of letting her take care of my morning meal. She sometimes stands there when she needs to catch someone on arrival, waiting and busying herself with the buffet arrangements until her target in question makes an appearance. Today, it seems that her target is me.
“Lane!” she chirps brightly, stepping aside to let me get at the caffeine.
“Morning Marjorie, what’s up?” I give her my ears while I pick out how I’ll fuel up today.
“Well, you might wanna grab a second cup right away, kiddo,” she says, squirming nervously, “Because... Jenny’s out sick today.”
“Hm?” I give her a questioning look as I sip. Jenny is my direct supervisor, but why would that mean a second cup of coffee? She’s been absent before and I’ve pulled through fine. The only thing on my schedule today was headshot editing and doing some scheduling stuff - nothing drastic.
“And Frank is on vacation?” Marjorie looks at me expectantly, like I should have gotten it by now. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what I’m missing. Coming up short, I give her a confused look and shrug slightly. Marjorie sighs.
“Jenny was scheduled to do the Vice President’s headshot today, Lane. But she’s absent, and so is the backup photographer. You’re the only one left on staff today.”
I choke on my coffee.
“I really need you to step up and take over,” she says, “Do you think you can do that?”
Pass up an opportunity for a photo shoot? Not me.
“You can count on me!”
“Lane Elliott, you are a lifesaver!” Marjorie smiles wide as she bounds back toward her desk, “He’ll be in the studio at 11 sharp. I’ll be there to assist you, so I’ll see you at 10:30 for setup!”
I bite into a dry bagel, trying to keep myself from reeling. Okay, think about this. It’s just a headshot session - for the annual reports, I’m sure. Nothing new or difficult - something the VP and Marjorie have both done before. I just need to follow their leads.
Though somewhat shaken, I still close my eyes and take a deep breath. If there’s one thing I can do well, it’s take photos. One-on-one shoots are my specialty, in a sense, and I know that I can do this. I psych myself up - I will knock this out of the park!
Just gotta breathe and finish this bagel. And maybe a second cup of coffee.