Daniel slumped down onto the couch in his barren apartment, sighing from the day. When he'd seen the paper warning he'd crumpled it up assuming the former intern was simply melodramatic.

Even if things were bad, Daniel featured himself like a trooper, one who could handle much more than the average person. As he tackled each article on the itemized list that Mr. Palmer kept adding to his resolve crumbled like a late stage Jenga tower. 

First it had been fifty copies in a copier that didn't work and needed each paper fed to it individually. Then it was taking back the papers and stapling them each individually. Then letters, emails, more copies, and elevator rides up and down. The last straw had been sending Daniel out to the laundromat to pick up dry cleaning in the pouring rain without a car. 

Daniel had returned, shivering, pitiable, and otherwise drenched, but held the still dry dry-cleaning up like a trophy. Mr. Pamler simply looked up at him, frowned, and said, "You're dripping on my floor."

The boy had wanted to kill him in that moment, but seeing as it was finally five o'clock such dark thoughts would need to wait until that night in his dream. Worse than anything though, was how isolated Daniel was beginning to feel after only one day. Mr. Palmer didn't talk, make jokes, or even yell. He just stared. He just looked on at Daniel as if the boy had two heads. It was demoralizing. Not to mention the fact that Daniel's desk was up on the penthouse level, where everyone else got to work together on a floor down below.

Every time Mr. Palmer sent him down with a message or errand Daniel looked on jealously at the creative and artistic space covered with beanbags, swing chairs, and laughing happy people, a far cry from the sterile office of the king of the office. 

Daniel hated having to go back up. He hated looking around at all the people, and knowing he couldn't talk to them, couldn't take the time to make a connection, but it was simply out of the question. 

When he finally reached his apartment at the end of the night, his head was drawn to his pillow like a moth to a flame, but he felt lame going to bed so early, so he sat up on the couch.

The loneliness found him again, painfully he was aware that he was a stranger living in an unfamiliar city, not a friendly face within five miles. His head shot up when he heard the sounds of the door opening behind him. He turned quickly to see a blonde boy carrying a box with a grin covering his smooth chin.

"Hey!" 

"Hi?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm Riley... we spoke over text?" The man titled his eyebrow humorously as if he thought it was a joke.

"Oh shit..." Daniel cursed, having forgotten that he'd made arrangements to have his new roommate move in that day. And that he'd left the key at the front desk for the boy. "When you responded to my ad... don't take this the wrong way, but I was picturing a girl."

"I hope I'm not a disappointment then," Riley smiled cheekily, shifting the weight of the box to his hip. "Was it the name?"

"That and the 'knitting' as a special interest--- Let me help you with that," Daniel chuckled, moving to take the box from the other boy's hands. 

"No it's alright I've got it, but I wouldn't say no if you'd go back down with me again.. I've got two more boxes left, so you'd same me a trip."

"Of course," Daniel forced a smile. He hated helping people move, but he decided it would be more awkward to decline. 

One trip down and up later Daniel and Riley collectively slumped on the couch with a sigh of relief. It was only six PM, but Riley had spent the day traveling, and Daniel working for New York's most difficult boss. 

"Don't you have to unbox things?" 

"Nah.. I want to get off my feet a minute," Riley closed his eyes, then opened them with an endearing smile. "We should get to know each other in person... for starters, I don't knit, I crochet."

"Cause that's so much cooler?" Daniel teased.

"Well sure, but don't come crying to me when you need a new scarf." 

"You don't have to worry about that. I promise."

"So where're you from? Not to make you uncomfortable, but I feel like I'm hearing a slight southern accent," Riley ran a hand through his short blonde hair.

"Slight," Daniel rolled his eyes. "No need for eggshells... I'm from the boonies, and I know that."

"Alright, boonies where? There's lots of boonies."

"South Carolina."

"That's... southern," Riley stated.

"Yes, very," Daniel nodded in agreement. "Where're you from?"

"Minnesota." 

"Northern--" Daniel chuckled. 

"Yes very," Riley agreed. "So what are your interests? I'm assuming we can rule out the wonderful word of crafting?"

"Yes... I guess you could say I'm not very crafty... I really like to write. In fact, that's why I'm here, I've got an internship with the New York Day."

"Cool," Riley stated genuinely. "Paid I hope?"

"Yes... I was surprised about that, but I guess they weren't really lining people up for the job."

"One man's trash, another man's treasure."

"I hope so!" Daniel smiled. "Why are you in New York?"

"I guess you could say I'm a bit of a traveler... I never stay put... It just makes me stressed. I needed a change, so I applied for a job at far off company, and I got it. I'm just a temp right now, but I'm beyond happy with the scenery and the city."

"It's big... bigger than I though," Daniel chuckled nervously. "I've never really been in a real city before, you?"

"Minneapolis," He shrugged. "But nothing like this... this is crazy. Good crazy though." 

"Good crazy.. sounds like an oxymoron to me."

"Nah--- you've just got to lean into it and take what the universe throws at you."

"The universe," Daniel scoffed.

"What, are you a realist?" Riley raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"No... that's just very different from how people talk at home... Do you believe in the universe?"

"If my mom asks I'm Episcopalian," Riley kidded. "But sometimes I really think it's all the same. I guess you could say I sorta believe in the universe."

"Yeah... I'm gonna go catch some sleep.. It was nice to talk to you."

"You too," Riley nodded. "I'm gonna got to bed too."

Once alone in his room Daniel let his head thump back onto the pillow finally. It was a good feeling, a welcome feeling. Better than he'd felt for the entire day. He liked Riley, he was good company and nice to talk to. It would be a good change from work to have someone so positive around all the time. 

Outside of the world of bossy men and bitchy receptionists he supposed there was a universe. And just maybe that universe had some sort of a plan for him that would make everything work itself out better in the end. 

Daniel wasn't the most positive person, but he still went to bed that night with a bigger smile on his face than he'd had before. His mind swirled with thoughts of the day, all of it synthesizing itself as it usually did at night; in some kind of story. If he. thought there'd be any money in it he might have tried to go on and become a storybook writer, but a journalist sounded more legitimate. Besides, maybe he could take time off his hard hitting news for some kind of fluffy piece. 

If he got really good footing he could pivot to authorship as a natural progression of good writing. He couldn't wait to see the look on Mr. Palmer's face when he sold his first book deal. "You don't write," the man had said, well Daniel would show him. Daniel could write like the greats an outshine any boss that tried to get in his way. One day it'd be Mr. Palmer working for him and getting soaked running around town on his useless errands. 

Daniel scoffed, letting his eyes close. His mind always ran amuck at night. That would be a sight to see, Mr. Palmer working for him, but as a billionaire who took over his father's hugely successful business flawlessly, there was a fat chance of that ever happening. 

When Daniel checked his clock he saw that it was already nearly 11 o'clock and could have kicked himself. He was a night owl, sure, but he really needed his energy if he was going to get through the next day. Going over the events again and again in his mind to process everything was not necessarily the most beneficial use of his precious sleeping hours. 

Still, Daniel laid awake a few moments more. It was noisy, noise then it ever had been in South Carolina. he had sort of expected everyone to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, but New York never slept. And neither did the police sirens, the construction or the gun shots. 

Soon though, Daniel was able to drift off into a brief uneasy sleep.