Daniel stood and stared his face bright with awe.  He was at the foot of a towering skyscraper with a large sign above the door that read, 'Chicago Broadcasting Center' also known as CBC News, a publication that he'd been reading since he was a child.

Coming from a little town in South Carolina, Daniel's family had strong political notions, but Daniel himself was the exact opposite. From a very young age he found he had very little in common with the views of his parents, much to the chagrin of his father. It was due to this that Daniel would sneak into the library every Sunday to watch the CBC broadcasting and learn as much as he could about the world. He longed to be cultured, longed to be worldly. He wanted to be writer, one of the people who wrote the stories that changed his life.

Looking up at the building filled him with excitement, but also with dread. For as much as Daniel wanted to be a world traveler and story chaser he'd never even seen a skyscraper before, let alone worked within one. The building stretched so high it seemed to disappear into the clouds. The sun glinted off the glass and blinded Daniel as he stood.

You should just go in... he thought, but failed to move. He had thought he would be braver when the moment finally came, but there in the center of Chicago, staring at the headquarters of the his promised land, he was terrified.

The farthest Daniel had ever been from his home town was a trip to the Outer Banks with his older brother and parents that ended in disaster and returning as a child. Daniel's father wasn't prepared for the new world, and even OBX was too far for him. Nothing Daniel had seen online could prepare him for the sheer volume of people, buildings, and sights, in the great city of Chicago. It was like something out of a storybook, even with its dirty streets and less than satisfied pedestrians. 

This is it. This is your shot. Daniel prepped himself. So don't blow it.

With a final breath of anticipation Daniel entered the building. When he'd applied for the internship the librarian had cut out of the paper for him he hadn't thought he would ever be hired in a million years, but yet he passed the first round of interviews, and the second, and the third. In all the hustle and bustle of the competition across the nation to get hired Daniel had never actually needed to go to Chicago, he'd been able to do it from the comfort of his own room, but here.... now... everything was real, it was tangible. He could barely contain the conflicting ranged of emotion. 

The lobby was a large room full of glass and shining silver modern accents all branded with the CBC logo. Daniel wasn't a fan of modern architecture, but yet as he looked up at the balconies that looked down at the lobby with its shooting indoor fountain he couldn't help but be awed. It was like he was a pilgrim looking at a sixteenth century church--- taking in every sight and savoring it as if it might be his last. But it wouldn't. Daniel was going to get to look at it everyday for the next six months. 

Towards the back was an elevator on one side of a large rounded desk. On the other side was a frosted glass window marked with a 'C' for Chicago. Daniel hadn't been alerted in the email correspondence as to where he was expected to go, but he figured the front desk was as good a place to start his search as any other. 

The boy's shoes clinked as he walked into the room making him feel as if he was interrupting the room, as if he was like food color sitting on water and he had spilled down staining it. The woman sitting at the desk looked up at him and scoffed.

Her reaction made it harder for him to justify walking up to the desk and asking her his question. Still, Daniel had no better options so he did.

"Hello," He greeted trying to be cheerful, and she rolled her eyes but didn't answer as if she thought he was just an annoying boy trying to flirt with her. "Um... I'm a new intern, I submitted a writing sample, and got hired.... but I've never been here, and the email didn't say where to go... "

"And?" The woman asked. Her eyebrow lifted in even greater annoyance, as if Daniel just being there was an offense to her specifically.

"And... I wondered if you knew where I was supposed to go?"

"Ugh," The woman sounded, pushing a stray strand of fierce blue hair behind her ear. "Name?"

"John-Daniel Buckley." He stated, and she let out a small snort.

"Sixth floor." She spat. 

"Do you happen to know who--"

"Ask Mr. Palmer when you get up there," She glared at him angrily. "This isn't my job, you know? I'm not like your babysitter, so don't ask me for things, got it?"

"I.. I've got it," Daniel stammered. "Um, thank you."

"Sure."

Daniel retracted from the desk in fear and moved towards the elevator in a lonely path. When he reached it he discovered that it required an ID badge to get in, which he didn't have. Something told him that he could ask Blue Hair back at the desk, but the idea of having to talk to her again made him want to vomit. 

"Do you need to get in?" A kindly old man in a grey suit startled Daniel when he came up behind him. 

"Oh! Yes Sir, thank you," Daniel stammered again. The man only chuckled and slid his card through the slot. When the door open he gestured in a way that said 'you first' and Daniel went into the small space. 

"Floor?"

"Six, Sir. Thank you." Daniel mumbled. 

"I'm going to the sixth floor as well." The man smiled as he pressed the button and the elevator jumped into motion.  "That's one hell-of-an accent I detect. Where are you from?"

"South Carolina, Sir," Daniel smiled bashfully. "I guess I do have something of a southern accent. My whole family does." 

"Ah, good old South Carolina..." The man smiled wistfully. "Where'd you go to college, boy?"

"I went to the University of South Carolina... I got into Cornell too, but my father didn't want me to go so far away." 

"How'd you get him to let you go here?"

"My mother always wanted a writer.... this was close enough, so she convinced him for me."

"Ah," The man agreed. The doors to the elevator opened as soon as he'd finished speaking. "After you."

Daniel walked from the door followed by the man. 

"Oh, what was your name, Sir?" 

The man turned around with a little smirk as if he knew something that Daniel didn't.

"Clark Laurier," The man said, and Daniel mouth nearly fell open.

"Mr... Mr. Laurier?" he asked. Mr. Laurier was the lead editor and CEO of CBC and Daniel had not expected to be telling his life story to his boss on his first day at a new company. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize--"

"I know," The man chuckled. "And what's your name?"

"John-Daniel Buckely." 

"Hold the elevator, please!" He called. The blue-suited man he'd seen enter didn't move to help him, but Daniel managed to catch it before it shut, but his messenger bag of papers spilled out onto the man's brown dress shoes.

"Oh.. I'm sorry," Daniel bent down and began half-hazardously stuffed the papers into his bag. He'd thought the man might bend down to help him or chuckle at the situation, but the silent immobile black dress shoes proved him wrong. "I'm such a clut--" Daniel began, stopping as the man's face came into light. He was gorgeous, not that Daniel liked men that way, but it would be a lie to deny it. His jaw-line was sharp, his cheeks sculpted with deep dimples. His dark brown hair was styled classically-- short on the sides and longer on top-- but every hair sat beautifully in place as if he spent hours placing them, or he just had a crazy expensive haircut. Either way it was worth it. "Hi."

The man raised a dark eyebrow, but made no sound to indicate he noticed. Daniel suddenly felt a little insecure in his old dress shoes, boring black pants, and somewhat ill-fitting shirt. He wished he had a tailored navy suit like the man, a bright light blue dress shirt starched to perfection, or a skinny navy tie that matched his suit so well it was probably made of the exact fabric.

"Oh!" Daniel realized. "I should press my button." When he looked, however, the button had already been pressed and was aglow. "Oh cool... we're going to the same floor."

"You're going to the penthouse level?" The man stressed 'you're' as if it was ridiculous to suggest that Daniel could be going to the same floor as him. In his old dress-clothes, Daniel was almost inclined to agree with him.

"Yes! I applied for an internship over the summer and I got in. You must be another intern, what's your name?" Daniel chuckled.

The man eyed him incredulously, but said nothing.

"You know, I've never been to a city like this before. Mama never wanted us goin' and gettin' city values. I don't know what she was 'fraid of" Daniel rambled. "I'm doin' just fine. I never thought I'd get this job, my pop was so upset when he heard, he always wanted me to take over the farm when he went got older..."

"Stop talking." The man demanded firmly, so much so that Daniel was shocked and complied. "The only way you're gonna get through this is if you shut your mouth because I can't take you seriously talking like that."

"Excuse me?" Daniel asked, his pride more than a little hurt.

"You're excused" The man nodded as the elevator beeped and exited without another word. Daniel kept his head down in shame mumbling profanities to himself.

Who does he think he is talking to me like that. He complained under his breath. He hadn't seen where the other intern had gone, and he was glad because he didn't want to see him again. Chances were they were going to be spending a lot of time together, so he didn't need to seek him out.

Daniel looked up and paused in awe. They were in something of a lobby of its own. The walls were painted in more of the sharp white from downstairs, but they were mirrored. The floor was a deep black marble that clicked under your feet as you walked. It was dressed with two ottomans by the elevator doors, and a round white marble desk similar to the woman's downstairs. Behind the desk was a wall of frosted windows that stretched to the ceiling.

He tossed his bag on the desk. The man from the elevator wasn't there, so he couldn't claim the front desk, besides the woman downstairs said it was his. Daniel didn't know if the man had gone to the bathroom or something, but he wasn't going to get him to help him get a desk.

After ditching his bag, he stood in front of the door and caught his breath again. This was his dream, his one chance to make it as a journalist, to make a name for himself. With one final word of support Daniel pushed the glass doors open and walked in.

"Wha-" There at the desk sat the man from the elevator. "You're Andrew Palmer.. but you're so-?"

"And you're my new intern," He stated. "We'll see how long that lasts."

"Sorry?"

"You talk too much. I don't like it when they talk too much," the man rolled his eyes and sighed. "But while you're here. I'll buzz for you when I need you. I want a black coffee every morning. You organize my appointments, take messages that are transferred from Lacy at the front desk, and tell the people who want to see me I'm not here. You don't write, you don't pitch, and you certainly don't tell me about your life," Mr. Palmer paused. "And for God's sake, lose the accent."

"I-"

"Go," Mr. Palmer turned down to his desk, again signaling the conversation had ended. Daniel retreated from the office with his tail between his legs. He'd already made an enemy of his boss. One day in New York and he already had an enemy.

The boy slumped into his seat with a dejected noise. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known the man was Andrew Palmer by the niceness of his suit... or he should have at least bothered to google what Andrew Palmer looked like before deciding he was a kindly old man billionaire.

I'm going to make the best of this. Daniel decided and sat up. On his desk he realized was a yellow post-it note left for him.

"Run." It read.

"Shit."