If you'd told me fifteen years ago that I'd be here today, mopping floors and cleaning up after the suits in some corporate hellhole, I'd probably laugh. Or maybe I'd punch you in the arm, thinking it was some kind of joke. But no, here I am, at the lowest of the low, scrubbing away at the dirty floors of Harrison & Co., the company that doesn't even know I exist unless they need someone to clean up their mess. Literally.
I wasn't always this way. Fifteen-year-old me had dreams, had ambition. Hell, I even wanted to be a doctor once. Imagine that. Me, a doctor. But life had other plans. Life said, "You're gonna be a janitor," and here I am. So, you know, what's the point of dreaming anymore?
I shuffle my way through the halls, cleaning up after the executives like I'm invisible. They don't care. They barely even acknowledge I'm here. And why would they? I'm just the guy with the mop. Just the guy who scrubs the toilets and wipes the windows. It doesn't matter.
And then, like a cherry on top of my wonderful life, I hear it.
"Leaked!"
I freeze. It's CEO Richard Haywood, yelling like the world's about to end. "The product's been leaked!"
I glance up, the weight of the words sinking in. The new product. The one we've all been working on for months in secret. The product the company had pinned all its hopes on. And now…now it's out in the world.
"Who the hell leaked it?" Haywood barks, his face turning red as a tomato. "Who's responsible for this?"
My stomach sinks. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I can feel the tension building in the air. I just keep my head down, going through the motions. Scrub. Wipe. Sweep. It's the only thing I can do to avoid whatever disaster is about to unfold.
But it doesn't take long for Haywood to pinpoint me. His beady eyes narrow, and I feel a chill run down my spine. "You! You're the one who leaked it!"
I blink. "What? No, I—"
He cuts me off. "Don't try to lie to me, you pathetic little janitor. You've been snooping around in places you don't belong, haven't you? Maybe you thought you could make a quick buck by selling company secrets. Is that it?"
I open my mouth to deny it, but the words don't come. I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to say.
It doesn't matter, though. He's already made up his mind. "You think you're important?" he spits, stepping so close I can feel his breath on my face. "You think anyone would believe a filthy janitor over me? You're nothing. Just a cog in the machine."
I feel my hands balled into fists, I knew I should have probably stayed silent, I mean what's a couple of words going to do for me anyhow? He wouldn't listen to me and I suppose with that mindset was why I started to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Sir, please stop raising your voice at me."
Respectful, polite, nothing accusatory but oooh noo it didn't look that way to poor old Richard.
His eyes narrow, lips curling into a sneer. "What did you say to me?" His voice rises even higher, somehow cutting through the air like a blade. "You dare—you dare—speak to me like that?"
I step back instinctively, but my feet are glued to the ground, stuck in the same spot like a scared little mouse. My heart's beating like a jackhammer in my chest, but there's this part of me, this desperate, broken part, that wants to stand up. Not because I think I can win, but because…I'm just tired. Tired of being trampled on.
I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just… I don't think I deserve to be treated like this. You don't know what happened, Mr. Haywood. You're blaming me for something I didn't do."
He leans in close, way too close, and I feel the heat of his breath on my face. He's towering over me, his expensive cologne mixing with the bitterness in the air. His smirk widens like a wolf about to pounce. "You want respect? You think you deserve respect?"
I open my mouth to argue, but the words get stuck. Say something, idiot. But what can I possibly say, besides, "Oh, yes, you're right."
"Well, let me make something clear to you, Arthur," he continues, "You're nothing. You've always been nothing. And now, you're going to pay for it."
The sting of his words cuts deep, deeper than I care to admit, but I force myself to keep looking him in the eye. I can't let him see how much his words are affecting me, even as my hands shake with the effort. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it even harder to speak.
"I didn't leak anything. I didn't even know about the product," I shot back. In the back of my mind, I curse every god or spiritual being I can think of, pleading with them to stop my voice from trembling like I'm some scared child.
Richard scoffs. "Stop making excuses. You've been snooping around the offices like a rat, haven't you? Trying to steal something. Anything. Pathetic." He leans in, his eyes narrowing, "You're not even fit to be in this building. You're nothing but a stain on the company's good name."
For a moment, there's silence. The room feels like it's closing in on me. It's as if the air itself is being sucked out of the office. Richard just stares at me, his face redder than a tomato, his jaw clenched so tight I can hear it grinding. But he doesn't speak, doesn't offer a shred of apology or reason.
Then, with a sharp, dismissive laugh, he finally says, "You're fired."
Just like that. No explanation. No second chances. No room for defense. I'm out.
I stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'll take it back. That he'll realize he's made a mistake. But no. That's it. The final nail in the coffin. A slap in the face.
I feel the weight of those words hit me harder than anything else he could've thrown at me. It's a gut punch. It's like the floor's been ripped out from under me, and I'm falling, plummeting into nothing.
I leave his office without another word, my mind racing, my body moving on autopilot. The world outside feels like a blur—my legs are stiff, my steps heavy. What am I supposed to do now?
I feel the cold wind hit my face as I step onto the street, but it does nothing to wake me up. I keep walking, not really sure where I'm going. My brain's in a fog.
What now? Where do I go?
I'm a high school dropout. What company in their right mind would hire me? I don't even have a degree, or any real experience besides scrubbing toilets and mopping floors. What kind of job would take me in after this? Who's going to believe that I didn't leak the product when I'm just some lowly janitor with a reputation for being invisible, for being nothing?
Well, at least I have my girlfriend, Aurora.
Oh, how wrong I was.