NATHAN

What a fucked-up day! I don't even know what I'm getting into, but need is driving me to do this. I wanted to make a good impression and even turned up ten minutes earlier than I was supposed to at The Idea Factory. David looked at me from his desk when I came through the door and then approached me with a polite smile. For a moment, I thought I walked into the wrong place when I took in his outfit of a blue pressed Oxford shirt and gray trousers; not the usual all-black outfit of someone working in a studio.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"My name is Nathan... Larsen. Today is my first day here," I mumbled. "Is this The Idea Factory?"

"Yeah, you are at the right place. Only I know nothing about this. Who hired you?" He asked surprised.

"Zack Valentine."

"Okay, well, Zack should be here soon. My name is David Lantz and I'm the project manager of the studio. I also run the admin. Would you like some coffee? A Coke? Actually, we have nothing that doesn't have caffeine," he chuckled.

"Coffee is good."

While he went to the small kitchen to make me a cup of coffee, I gazed around my new workplace.

The main walls are white with squares in fluorescent colors. Each square contains a framed design job. The three double desks are built in white laminate with drawers in the same fluorescent colors of the walls. Only a desk with orange details looked unoccupied; at least not by a person, since it was topped with a bunch of office supplies, paper boxes, toners and printed proofs.

The double desks have glass divisions covered mostly with sketches, color samples, and sticky notes. The only place that seemed to be under control was the one that belongs to David.

"Here you go. I would show you to your desk, but as you can see, Zack is currently using it as storage for everything. Why don't you go and sit in the meeting room to enjoy your drink? I will let everybody know you are here."

"Thanks."

I sat in the meeting room and checked my phone while drinking the surprisingly good coffee. I wondered how my new colleagues would be like. I had only met Zack, and then David, two complete opposites. Zack is busy and chaotic, while David is calm and organized.

Suddenly I heard voices outside, but I didn't dare to turn around and look. I heard David, plus a female voice and a male one which didn't sound like Zack's.

"Where's Zack? Why the fuck didn't he tell us?" I heard the woman say.

The door opened, and Kaley entered the room. She's chubby and quite pretty, yet her big green eyes watched me unsympathetically. My heart beat hard in my chest, and my hands got sweaty. Elvam, the quiet guy, followed her and sat in front of me.

"Good morning," he said.

"Who are you?" Kaley asked harshly.

"Nathan Larsen. I got hired by Zack Valentine. He told me to be here today at nine. Am I in trouble?" I stated in a hurry.

"You are not in trouble. Zack is. I'm Elvam Kadar, and this is Kaley Sloan. Together with Zack, we own The Idea Factory. As you must have figured out by now, we knew nothing about you," Elvam said in a gentle voice.

"Oh," is all I said.

My head pounded from the stress. I hoped everything was a misunderstanding because I needed the job. We are completely broke, the bills are piling up, and I have already used all my savings.

"Why did he hire you?" Kaley asked.

"We met at a party and had a chat. I moved here recently and I'm looking for a job. I'm a web designer and developer."

It was then when Zack arrived, and after a small argument that left my head hurting even more, they accepted me as their new colleague and gave me a temporary contract.

After filling the administration and payroll documents, I met Owen and instantly liked him. He looked exhausted and kept yawning the whole day, but somehow, he maintains a cheerful attitude. I heard remarks throughout the day which made me conclude that Zack and Owen party often so that must be the reason of his tiredness.

Owen showed me the latest projects he worked on and what is pending, and I was glad we got along fine. Zack cleaned up my desk, and David explained how to log in to their virtual system and where to save the projects on the cloud storage. I was glad to learn that I'm allowed to work from home if I need to which is handy with my current situation.

As I walk inside our house, I head straight to my room, throwing myself face down on my bed while one hand searches for my migraine medicine on my night table.

"Nathaniel? Are you home?" The slurry voice of my mother asks.

"Yes, Mom. It's me," I sigh.

I stand up from my bed and realize that's all the rest I'll get. As I walk into my mother's bedroom, my headache goes up a notch as I see the neck of a glass bottle peeking from under her bed.

"Where did you get this?" I grab the bottle and realize there are two more.

"It doesn't matter. I was so alone," she tries to stand and falls back on the bed. "You left me. You are always leaving me."

"I didn't leave you. I told you this morning before I left that I got a job and it was my first day. Who got you this?" I inspect the label and find it to be dry sherry.

She looks at me with glazed eyes, pouts and then laughs. "It's for cooking!"

"You have never cooked in your life!"

It's an awful thing to see your mother so drunk, but seeing mine, a woman who was elegant, social, the life of the party, now with swollen legs and yellowish skin is heartbreaking.

"Mom, please, this needs to stop," I hold her hands in mine. "The doctors said your liver can't take it anymore, and you will be the one leaving me."

"Doctors don't know shit about what they talk! I'm fine!" She snaps.

"You have been hospitalized twice in the last four months!" I begin to lose my patience and take deep breaths to remain calm.

"And I'm still here! Unlike you!"

"I need to work! I don't even know how we will make it to the end of this month until I get paid."

"You have always been a selfish child. After your father died, you couldn't wait to leave me. If I didn't end up in a hospital, you would have never come back. It's your responsibility to take care of me," she says bitterly.

I can't argue anymore. My headache is about to split my head. Since I came back, my mother and I can't talk about anything else than the same topics: her addiction, that we are broke, her health, and that I abandoned her.

She's had drinking problems since I can remember; would get wasted at any opportunity and make a scene. Sometimes I think my father died from the exhaustion of dealing with her. I got a full scholarship to attend college at the other side of the country and after many part-time jobs, I landed a position as a web designer in a company where I was loved and respected.

Then I got the call that my mom had a car accident while driving under the influence. Further checks determined that her liver had gone to waste. I moved back to take care of her, only to find piles of unpaid bills, empty bottles and what seems to be a lost cause.