#zeketra

Maybe it’s her own fault. Maybe it’s not the economy or the current employment climate. Maybe it’s just her. If she can’t manage to snag a job despite her 10 plus years of experience in the magazine industry, then it’s probably her. Is her resume too sloppy? Are her emails too aggressive? Does she just seem too desperate? Or maybe it’s just her entire being that screams that she’s an unemployable loser that doesn’t deserve another chance of holding a paid position.

Petra puts her phone face down on the couch and sighs. She needs to stop staring at her phone screen every night. Nothing ever changes. She sits up and reaches for the half-empty bowl of ramen sitting on the coffee table. It’s cold already, but the spice still stings her tongue when she slurps up the remaining noodles. It had been her staple food for four years when she was a student in college where eating the same thing for months on end was the norm, but it just feels pathetic now that she’s graduated from school for at least a decade. She tries not to think about her friends on social media and the things they post on their profiles: platters of fresh sushi and sashimi that they eat nearly every week, breezy vacation houses on the beach that they frequent once a month, and pretty dresses and skirts that are so much nicer than the dirty pajamas that Petra’s sitting in now. How did she manage to turn out to be such a loser in every aspect of her life?

Her phone rings suddenly and she jumps up, hands fumbling for her phone so desperately that the device nearly fumbles to the floor. Without looking at the ID, Petra picks up.

“Hello?” Petra says. She winces when she hears how breathless her voice is. She’s too desperate. She wouldn’t hire her either.

“Hi, Pet!” a cheerful voice says on the other side. Petra should be delighted to hear such a familiar and friendly voice after such a long and uneventful day, but she can’t help but sigh. The voice on the other end chuckles. “Disappointed?”

“No, oh my god! Please never think that, Hanji. You know I love talking to you,” Petra says quickly. God, she really is the worst. She doesn’t know how she still even has friends at this point. Petra slumps down on her couch, pulling her legs up and resting her forehead on her knees. She can hear her face flush and she feels embarrassed even though there’s nobody else in her apartment with her. “It’s just … been a really rough day. Month. Year.”

“Don’t worry, Pet. I understand. You’re a real trooper for holding on this long,” Hanji says. “How are you? Are you still in that tiny little box of an apartment?”

Petra lifts her head and looks around at her tiny little “box.” The wallpaper is peeling from the walls and there’s mold in the very corner of the ceiling that she’s never been able to get rid of. The walls are so thin that she hears her neighbor’s off-key singing in the shower every morning and her other neighbors arguing every night. The ceiling is so poorly made that she’s afraid it’s going to collapse every time the person in the unit above her practices dancing in the evening. Hot water only runs in her shower for five minutes before it’s ice cold. The windows are nearly impossible to open and, when Petra does manage to crack open the window just an inch or two for some fresh air, just as impossible to close. The only redeeming quality of this studio apartment is that it’s cheap enough for her to rent on the money she has saved up without worrying.

“It’s not so bad,” Petra mumbles. She looks up at the crack in the ceiling and closes her eyes. “It’s … cozy.”

“Mmm,” Hanji hums. “And your roommate?”

Petra cracks open an eye and looks at the tiny hole in the living room wall where a mouse lives. The first time she had seen it, she had spilled her dinner on the floor and shrieked for thirty minutes as it scuttled all around her studio apartment until disappearing into the wall. She got a noise complaint the next day for it and, even though she has gone to the landlord about the mouse problem at least a dozen times, she still sees the mouse from time to time. She’s learned that it’s not much of a problem as long as she keeps her food in air-tight containers, although she does think it’s unfair that this mouse doesn’t even have to pay rent.

“He’s fine. Quiet as a mouse,” Petra says.

Hanji laughs on the other end, their laugh comforting even as Petra sits in her uncomfortably small apartment. “And that creep that always insists on walking you to your door?” they ask.

Petra wrinkles her nose. The creep Hanji is referring to is the landlord’s son, who always seems to know when Petra is walking back to her apartment after going out for groceries or finishing her errands. She’s tried to politely tell him that she didn’t need him to walk her to her apartment, but he can never take the hint so she’s always just grinned and bore it. It’s better to have a good relationship with your landlord’s son anyway.

“He’s still … walking me to my door,” Petra sighs.

“So you’re still going to live there?” Hanji asks.

Petra lets out a long sigh. “Everywhere else is too expensive,” she says. Back when she first had to move, this apartment was the only one in her pay range. Now that she’s been unemployed for a year, moving to a new place is even more out of the question.

Hanji is quiet for a moment. “You could move in for me and Moblit,” they tell Petra. Petra begins to protest, but Hanji interrupts. “Not forever, of course. Just until you find a job and get back on your feet. Rent would be one fewer thing to worry about. You could just do some chores for us as payment.”

Petra knows that the offer is meant to be kind, but it still makes her pride sting. “You really don’t have to do that, Hanji.” The ginger runs a tired hand through her hair and her fingers get stuck in a tangle midway. She doesn’t remember the last time she’s brushed her hair. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it but … you and Moblit just moved into that house. I don’t want to barge into your home.”

“You won’t be barging! You’re always a pleasure to be around, Petra,” Hanji insists. “Moblit won’t mind either. And you know you’d be able to save up more money. I know you say that your dad’s hospital expenses are manageable but still …”

Petra doesn’t respond immediately. After all, Hanji is right. Paying her father’s hospital bills has always been a struggle even before she had been out of a job. With what’s left of her money dwindling away, moving in with Hanji and Moblit seems like the most reasonable thing to do, but Petra knows she’ll always feel like an unwanted guest even if Hanji truly doesn’t feel that way.

“I’ll think about it,” Petra finally says. It’s the response that she’s always given Hanji whenever they’ve offered Petra help to pay for expenses or let her move in temporarily, an unspoken rejection that Hanji is no doubt familiar with.

“Alright then,” Hanji says with just the slightest tinge of disappointment in their words. There’s a pause before they speak again, their tone lighter this time. “How are you going to spend your night?”

“Oh, you know,” Petra says with another sigh. She waves her hand absentmindedly.

“Just laying around and listening to that real estate man talk about how to buy a house?” Hanji says. Petra can’t see their face, but she can tell Hanji’s mouth is curled in an amused smile.

“I can’t help that he’s my emotional support YouTuber,” Petra pouts. She lays back down on the couch, her head on the armrest and her legs curled up. “He just has a very soothing voice and gives me the illusion that I might be able to buy my own house someday if I just follow his advice.”

“Aw, Pet,” Hanji says. “You’ll get a good place for yourself someday. You work so hard. It’s just bound to happen, you know? Don’t worry so much about it.”

“I know,” Petra says but it feels like a lie. She picks at a piece of lint on her sweats. She puts a smile on her face and says to Hanji, “It’s fine, Hanji. I’m just kind of tired. Let’s meet up on the weekend or something.”

“Alright, then,” Hanji says and Petra is thankful Hanji knows her well enough to just drop the conversation here. “Let’s go to that breakfast place that just opened up a few weeks ago. The reviews for that shop are already raving about how good the crepes are.”

“Okay, that sounds good,” Petra laughs. “Goodnight, Hanji. Tell Moblit I said hi.”

Hanji assures Petra that they will before bidding her adieu and Petra is left alone in her apartment again. Well, alone except for the mouse living in the wall.

Petra picks up her cold ramen again and frowns at it. She hasn’t had much of an appetite for a while now, but she knows it’s better to just eat than not have anything in her stomach so she eats the rest of her cold noodles and tries not to mind how bland they taste. She leaves the empty bowl discarded on the table and goes back to her phone, flipping through her YouTube recommendations even though she knows that she won’t watch any of the videos on her feed. After a few minutes, she finally types into the search bar “Zeke Jaeger Real Estate” and clicks on the first video that pops up.

It’s a video she’s watched hundreds of times. Petra probably makes up a tenth of the few thousand views that are listed under the video’s title. She’s all too familiar with the man on the screen, remembers every crease in his slick three-piece suit, and has memorized every strand of honey-blond hair slicked back away from the man’s forehead. She can recite every line of this video with her eyes closed.

“Hello, my name is Zeke Jaeger,” the man says and Petra begins to mouth along. “And today I’m going to be teaching you how to buy a house.”

Maybe it’s a bad idea to be watching these videos when she’s always at such a low place in her life, but it’s nice to imagine. When she watches these videos, it’s like the man is speaking directly to her, giving her advice because buying a house really is just within her reach instead of beyond the horizon. For a few minutes, Petra can imagine that she really is able to save a little money for a down payment and move into her home. She can forget that she’s living in her shabby studio apartment for a moment and pretend she’s getting ready to move into a sunlit house with high ceilings and a beautiful view outside of the window. For a little while, Petra can pretend she has a place she can call home.

Petra goes to sleep dreaming of a little house on a hill with a pretty little yard and stone steps leading up to a mahogany door.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

She wakes up to her phone ringing. Groaning, Petra turns on the couch and pulls a throw pillow over her head to block out the sound until she realizes that the sound isn’t her alarm — it’s her ringtone. Throwing the pillow of her face, Petra grasps for her phone and glances at the phone screen. A name flashes across the screen: “Eren.” It’s not a name she expects. He was an intern at a magazine she worked at a few years ago and she hadn’t heard from him since he finished his internship, but maybe he’s seen her desperate cold calls and emails and is taking pity on her.

“Hello?” she asks breathlessly.

“Hi, Petra!” The voice on the other end is bright and cheerful. Oh, to be young and employed, Petra thinks bitterly. “How have you been?”

“Ah,” Petra says. She sits up and straightens out her clothing even though there’s no way that Eren can see how unkempt she is right now. She clears her throat. “I’m alright. Just going through the motions. And you?”

Eren laughs. “That’s good to hear. I’m doing well,” he answers. He pauses for a moment and Petra wonders if he’s tugging at his earlobe, a habit she noticed that he had back when they still worked together. “Actually, I was wondering if you were still looking for work? I noticed some of your posts on LinkedIn and your profile says you’re open to work, but I was wondering if that’s still up-to-date.”

Petra winces and wonders which of her pathetically desperate posts Eren had stumbled upon. God, what if he read more than one? It feels embarrassing to be in such a hopeless position in front of Eren, who used to look up to her, but maybe she shouldn’t. After all, everyone has their bad days. Petra’s bad days have just happened nonstop for the past six months.

“Yes,” Petra says. She hopes she doesn’t sound too embarrassed by it. “I’m still looking for work. Just … trying to find the right job for me.” It’s not entirely the truth, but maybe Eren will be nice enough to believe it and leave her a little bit of dignity.

“Oh, okay! Um, I might actually have something for you,” Eren says. He sounds like he’s fumbling with something on the other end. Petra hears the clickity-clack noises of Eren typing on a keyboard and Eren finally continues. “We’re looking for another writer at the magazine I’m working at. I’ve always admired your writing, so if you’re interested …”

Petra wants to say “yes” right away, but she doesn’t want to seem too eager. She takes a breath and asks, “What sort of articles would I be writing?”

“Oh, duh,” Eren says. “Sorry, I should have mentioned earlier. It’s a monthly house and home magazine called Sweet Home. It focuses a lot on architecture and interior design. For this particular position, you’d be visiting a house or two every week and interviewing with the homeowner whose house will be featured in the monthly edition.”

Every word in Eren’s reply is like a kick to the gut. If she does get this position, she’ll constantly be reminded that these featured homeowners have something she doesn’t: a house. That’s not also considering the fact that she knows absolutely nothing about architecture and interior design. Petra really should turn the job down because she’s completely unqualified, but she doesn’t know when another opportunity for a job will come next.

“Sure,” Petra says with a fake smile plastered on her face. “I’m interested.”

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

The interview for the position at Sweet Home is … strange, to say the least. The editor-in-chief is Yelena, a woman that is a few years and several inches taller than Petra. Although her appearance is intimidating, Yelena is cordial towards Petra, even offering her a cup of coffee before giving her a quick tour of the building. It’s a one-story building that looks more like a house than an office, but it’s quite cosy. After giving Petra the tour, Yelena leads the ginger to a conference room, shutting the door quietly behind them before taking a seat across from Petra at the conference table.

“Thank you for considering me for this position,” Petra says. With her bag in her lap, she fumbles through her bag to find her resume. When she finally manages to pull it out, she slides it across the table to Yelena, who doesn’t even glance at it.

“You’re hired,” Yelena says and Petra’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“I’m … hired?” Petra repeats, her polite smile frozen in place. She’s never had a job interview be this easy. Considering how difficult it was to even get an interview these past six months, Petra should just thank the editor-in-chief and tell her that she’ll start right away — right this minute, even — but she can’t help pointing out, “You haven’t even looked at my resume.”

“I don’t need to,” Yelena says with a wave of her hand. “You were recommended by Eren. He’s a scrappy, young thing, but he does good work. A reliable kid. He spoke very highly of you, so I have confidence that you’ll do good work here.” Yelena can see that Petra is still flabbergasted. Perhaps to be polite, Yelena leans over the table and takes a quick glance at Petra’s resume before resuming her relaxed lounging. “Ten years of experience writing? I don’t think I have to doubt your abilities then. You’re more than qualified.”

“Th-thank you?” Petra stammers.

“No need to thank me,” Yelena says with a laugh and a shake of her head. She stands up, brushing off some invisible lint off of her perfect pantsuit. The editor-in-chief gestures for Petra to follow her. “Come on. Let me formally introduce you to the team.”

Petra feels like a mouse scurrying behind Yelena. Yelena leads her down a hallway to another conference room, a larger one with large glass windows that allows them to peer inside. The editor-in-chief doesn’t lead Petra inside, but they stop at a window and Yelena nods to each person inside as she introduces each one.

“Those are some editors. The one in the turtleneck is Porco Galliard,” Yelena says, gesturing to the man with the undercut and his blond hair slicked back. He’s arguing with a woman right now. They’re both around the same age as Eren, perhaps a few years older. Yelena gestures towards the woman arguing with Porco and says, “That’s Pieck Finger. She’s also an editor. She and Porco argue a lot, but they get along quite well.”

There’s another young man in the room with them, a nervous-looking person with a long nose and eyes that flit from side-to-side. Porco and Pieck stop their arguing a moment to ask for the man’s input and their heads turn sharply towards him as they await his answer. Startled, the man jumps back in his seat and laughs anxiously while waving his hands.

“That one is Bertholdt Hoover. He’s a nice fellow,” Yelena says with a nod. “A bit nervous, but he knows a lot. Don’t be afraid to ask him any questions. He’s very approachable.” Yelena turns and walks down the hall without another word and Petra quickly follows behind.

The two end up in the office space where all the writers are working. Eren is working at a desk and he looks up and waves cheerfully at Petra, a wide smile on his face. When she gives him a polite nod and wave, he gives her two thumbs up like he already knows she got the job. There are three other people working at their computers, but all of them have their backs turned or their eyes glued to their screens.

“You already know Eren, of course,” Yelena says as they walk past the dark-haired man, who’s still giving Petra a thumbs up. Yelena stops between two desks and gestures at the two writers busily typing away: a girl with light blonde hair tied in a neat bun at the top of her head and a sturdy-looking man with his blond hair cropped short. “Annie, Reiner, please welcome Petra. She’ll be joining us as a writer. She’s a friend of Eren’s.”

Annie turns her head slightly and gives Petra a polite nod, but doesn’t say anything else. Reiner, however, spins around his chair to get a good look at Petra. His expression is intimidating at first, but his face breaks into a wide grin and he stands up to offer Petra a hand.

“Ah, he was talking about you the other day,” Reiner says. He grips Petra’s hand firmly and gives it a good shake before letting go. “It’s good to know you’ll be working with us. We’ve been trying to fill that position for a while now -” He shuts up suddenly and doesn’t say anything more. Petra suspects that it’s because of a look Yelena gives him, but when she turns to see the editor-in-chief’s expression, Yelena’s face looks unfathomable.

“Reiner’s rather chatty, but he works hard,” Yelena says, ushering Petra to the man at the end of the row of desks.

The man is older than any of the other employees at Sweet Home. He’s probably around the same age as Petra’s father. His dark hair is in a short buzz cut and he has wrinkles around his eye and the corners of his mouth. He glances up as Yelena and Petra approach his desk and stops his typing for a moment. “So we’re hiring this one?” he asks Yelena, not quite acknowledging Petra.

“Yep. She’s going to be a part of Sweet Home now,” Yelena says and gives Petra an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

“I’m Petra Ral,” Petra says. She smiles and offers the man her hand, but he simply glances down without taking it. Awkwardly, she retracts her hand and clutches at her skirt, hoping that the blush in her cheeks isn’t obvious.

“Welcome to Sweet Home,” the man says. He’s already turning back to his computer. Petra’s not even sure if he’s bothered to remember her name.

“Thank you …?” Petra says before being whisked away by Yelena once more.

“That’s Theo, our head writer. Don’t mind him. He seems rude, but he’s a huge softie,” Yelena says airily. It’s clear that she’s used to his behavior by now, but Petra still can’t shake the feeling that she’s perhaps done something to offend the man. “He’ll warm up to you soon. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Yelena keeps walking and Petra follows the editor-in-chief a little more warily. They walk toward a room at the corner of the building. The large glass walls allow Petra to see a man busily working inside. He seems heavily invested in reading whatever documents are in his hands now.

“That’s our CEO,” Yelena says. She gestures at the man inside, but it’s difficult for Petra to get a good look at his face because it’s turned downward. “He’s a very busy man, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking a second to speak with the newest member of our team.”

“Oh, if he’s busy then maybe it’s better not to intrude,” Petra says, already taking a step back. While the other people at Sweet Home have been pleasant to meet, others such as Annie and Theo have deterred her from meeting anyone else. It’s possible that the CEO is as nice and pleasant as Yelena and Eren, but it’s not something Petra can count on.

“Nonsense, it’s fine,” Yelena says and continues to walk towards the CEO’s office.

“I …” Petra sighs. There really isn’t any way for her to get out of this. She’s about to take a step forward when she feels a hand on her elbow. When she turns, she sees Eren standing behind her, holding onto the sleeve of her cardigan with a warm smile.

“Yelena, I can introduce her to the CEO,” Eren says. He walks over to Yelena and waves Petra over to follow him. Reluctantly, Petra trails behind him and stands awkwardly by his side.

“You don’t have your own work to do, Eren?” Yelena says with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not a lot,” Eren says cheerfully. “Besides, you have your own work to do. You’ve already shown Petra around the office, so I can just introduce her really quickly. It’s no worry.” He waves Yelena off. For a moment, Petra thinks Yelena might refuse Eren’s offer, but Yelena only shrugs.

“Alright, if you insist,” Yelena says. “Petra, are you willing to start tomorrow? I have to call IT and ask them to set up your computer and accounts, but they should be ready for you if you come in tomorrow.”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Petra says, and Yelena gives her a curt nod before spinning on her heel and walking away. Even though Yelena can’t see it, Petra gives the other woman a pathetic wave of the hand and a half-hearted “thank you.”

Eren pats Petra on the back. “You did well. Yelena likes you. She’s just really serious, so don’t worry if she seems really brusque sometimes.” Eren walks Petra over to the CEO’s door and smiles. “Don’t worry about the CEO. He looks intimidating, but he’s harmless.”

Petra sighs and grips the strap of her bag. Her palms are sweating already, but she should probably trust Eren. If he’s not nervous, then she probably doesn’t have any reason to be. She takes a deep breath and then nods at Eren. “Alright, thank you. I’ll just do my best then,” she says with a strained smile.

Petra’s eyes stray over to the man in the office once more. They’re close now, so she can take a better look at him. He looks a lot taller up close and will probably be much, much taller when she meets him face-to-face. He’s wearing a three-piece suit in midnight blue, and his blonde hair is slicked back away from his forehead. Something about his appearance is vaguely familiar to Petra and when the man glances upward, Petra realizes she’s seen his face before. Chills run up her spine and her eyes flit to the name on the door plate: Zeke Jaeger.

Panicked, Petra reaches out to clutch at Eren’s arm. “Wait, you didn’t tell me -!”

It’s too late. Eren is already throwing open the door, pulling Petra inside with him. “Hey, Zeke,” says Eren with a bright smile. He gestures at Petra who’s still holding onto his elbow with a vise-like grip. Politely, he pries her off. “This is Petra. She’s going to be a writer here.”

“Hi,” Petra squeaks. “N-nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Zeke says in the same deep voice Petra has heard a million times before. He stands up and he really is taller than she could have imagined. He towers over her and offers her a hand. It engulfs hers easily and he shakes it warmly. “Are you starting soon?”

“Y-yes, sir,” she stammers, a little starstruck.

Behind her, Eren titters. “You don’t have to call him ‘sir,’” Eren whispers to her, giving Petra a gentle jab in the ribs. It helps her snap out of it a little bit. “You can just call him Zeke.”

Zeke politely pretends not to hear anything Eren is saying. “And what do you specialize in?”

“What do I specialize in?” Petra repeats, not quite understanding the question.

“Yes,” Zeke nods. When Petra blinks at him blankly, Zeke gives her examples. “For example, do you write about architectural design? Interior design? Landscaping? Restoration?”

Petra doesn’t even know what some of those are. Perhaps she should lie and just repeat one of the options back to him, but she doesn’t think to do so. Instead, she confesses, “I’m actually not that knowledgeable in any of those areas … I don’t actually know much about houses to begin with.”

“I see.” The CEO gives her hand a tight squeeze before letting go and Petra’s hand falls immediately to her side. He doesn’t look visibly disappointed, but there’s a tight smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. For some reason, Petra feels like apologizing to him.

“I learn very quickly though,” Petra says hurriedly as Zeke walks back to his desk. “I … I’ll learn whatever there is to know about houses and interior design and … and everything else so that I can write good articles.”

Zeke nods and gives her the same polite smile. His eyes are flitting back to his paperwork already. It’s clear that he’s finished with this conversation. “That’s good to hear,” he says. His fingers tap against the tap of papers on his desk. “I’m sure you’ll work hard. Hopefully, it’ll pay off.”

Petra winces at his last words. She opens her mouth to apologize. For what, she’s not quite sure. Perhaps for being so horribly incompetent, but Eren is already ushering her out of the room.

“It was nice speaking with you. Maybe you two can talk later once Petra’s adjusted to this place,” Eren says, and Zeke grunts in response. Eren shuts the door behind them and begins to walk Petra down the hall and towards the entrance of the building.

Petra’s not quite sure how to feel about all this. On one hand, she finally has a job after months of searching. On the other hand, she’s not sure if anyone here likes her, especially the CEO who just happens to be the real estate investor on YouTube that she has a strange obsession with. Petra nervously picks at the strap of her bag as Eren leads her out, her former intern talking about how everyone is going to enjoy working with her and how excited he is for her to be joining them.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re working together again,” Eren chuckles as they take a step out the front door.

“Why didn’t you tell me the CEO was a famous YouTuber?” Petra blurts as soon as the door shuts behind them.

Her outburst makes Eren stare for a moment, his mouth hanging slightly open as if he’s not quite sure how to respond. “You mean that channel he has? He only has two subscribers though, so I’d hardly call him famous,” Eren says with a wrinkle of his nose. His eyes suddenly widen and then he asks, “Wait, are you one of them?”

Petra’s cheeks redden and she waves her hand about, not wanting to admit that, yes, she is the only other subscriber to that channel. “That’s not important,” Petra says, but Eren looks doubtful. “I just … didn’t realize the CEO was someone I knew about.”

“Oh, well. We’re brothers, but I guess I never had the chance to introduce him to you when I was interning at the other place you and I worked at together,” Eren says. Petra doesn’t know how he can drop this kind of news on her so casually.

“Brothers?” Petra splutters incredulously. That makes absolutely no sense. But then again, she realizes, Eren’s last name is Jaeger as is Zeke’s. It’s not a common last name, so she probably should have made the connection herself, or at least entertained the possibility. Maybe it’s because she had never seen the two in the same place at the same time that she never realized, but it’s also just likely that she’s that stupid. “You two don’t look related,” she says weakly.

“Oh, we’re half-siblings,” Eren explains. He tugs at his earlobe and frowns as he thinks of a way to explain his family tree without being confusing. “We have the same dad, but we don’t look like him. I look more like my mom and he looks more like his mom, so maybe that’s why you didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, maybe …” Petra says. She’s beginning to think that it was a bad idea to take this job. It’s one thing not fitting in at your workplace, but it’s an entirely different thing to work under a CEO that you watch every night on YouTube because he’s your “emotional support real estate investor.”

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, Petra,” Eren says. He pats her kindly on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow,” Petra says weakly, giving him a smile that’s not quite genuine. She gives him a small wave before he disappears back into the building. As soon as the door shuts behind him, the smile falls from her face and she sighs.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

Petra has half a mind not to show up to work the next day, but she’s not one to break commitments even if said commitment brings her face-to-face with her semi-celebrity crush who probably thinks she’s terribly incompetent. She had called Hanji last night about her predicament foolishly believing her friend would help ease her panic, but Hanji had only laughed at her.

(“He’s seriously that real estate investor you watch every night?” Hanji cackled on the other end. They were probably wiping away tears of mirth from the corner of their eyes. “Jesus, what are the chances? That’s fucking hilarious.”

Petra failed to see how any part of this situation was remotely humorous. “Yeah, but what do I do?” she practically whined.

“Ask him for his autograph,” Hanji suggested.

The rest of the call was just as equally unhelpful.)

When Petra walks into the office, hardly anyone greets her. Only Reiner looks up to acknowledge her, giving her a short smile and a wave before he goes back to his work. Yelena greets her as well, quickly directing Petra to her desk before patting the newly employed writer on the head and telling her to grab coffee from the kitchen if she needs caffeine, but the editor-in-chief disappears to a conference room with the other editors before Petra can properly say hello. Annie and Theo ignore her, but at least Eren smiles brightly at her as she sits down at the desk across from him.

“Hi, Petra!” Eren whispers. He either doesn’t notice Annie glaring beside him or doesn’t care. “Hope you have a great first day. It’s going to be fun with you around.” He beams and gives her two thumbs up.

Petra doesn’t want to disturb Annie or the other writers any, so she gives Eren a polite nod and smile before she turns to her computer to start her work. There’s a piece of paper taped to her monitor. Curious, she pulls it off and reads the messy handwriting on it. There are written instructions on it. The very first few tell Petra her login credentials but the last half of the page is a request for her to write an article about a house she has never seen. Apparently, the details about it are in her email. Sure enough, when she opens her email, the instructions for the article she is to write are already in there.

Good morning, Petra.

Welcome to your first day at Sweet Home.

For your first assignment, please write an article about this house, which can be viewed in the images I’ve attached to this email. Unfortunately, our last writer left before finishing this article for our upcoming issue. I apologize for the short notice, but please have this article done before the end of the day today. In case it is helpful, I have also attached drafts that the previous writer left behind in a folder on your desk. Please refer to them if you need any help. Once you are finished with your article, print out a physical copy so that it may be reviewed.

Thank you and have a good day.

Sincerely,

Theo Magath Head Writer at Sweet Home (555) XXX - XXXX

Petra glances up at where Theo is sitting and sees the man staring her down with an intense gaze. She’s not exactly sure what he expects from her, a verbal response or perhaps a reply over email to confirm that she’ll get started on the assignment right away. She decides to give Theo a quick nod, which seems enough to appease the man because he returns his attention to his monitor and Petra finds she can breathe a little easier.

Petra clicks on the attachments. Once they open, she immediately regrets it. Her screen is filled with pictures of a gorgeous penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows that give a beautiful view of the cityscape. It’s larger than any space Petra has lived in in her entire life. Not only does it have a kitchen with sparkling granite countertops, a bathroom with porcelain glass flooring, and a spacious master bedroom complete walk-in closet, but also a grand dining room with an ornate chandelier hanging overhead among other luxurious details. Petra’s own apartment seems like a cardboard box in comparison.

After getting over her initial shock, Petra cracks her knuckles and takes a deep breath. Will writing this article be a blow to her self-confidence and remind her of her inability to buy a decent house? Absolutely, but it’s fine. After all, she’s getting paid for this. If she does well enough, then she might be able to move out of her apartment and into … well, nothing like this luxury penthouse, but perhaps something a little more acceptable than where she’s living now.

She begins typing. Petra has always been a fast typist. She can hit over 100 words per minute if she really knows what she wants to write and her accuracy is pretty impressive too. It’s not something she brags about, but she is quite proud of it. Right now, her typing ability is turning heads in the office and she notices Reiner and Annie looking at her curiously as she types up a storm. Annie looks a little more impressed with Petra than she did yesterday, and the ginger feels quite pleased with herself.

Petra continues typing and finishes her first draft within an hour. The article is a little less than 15000 words in length, which seems appropriate for a feature article regarding this penthouse apartment. As is her habit, she begins to retype the entire thing for her second draft, adding embellishments here and there and cutting a few awkward sentences every now and again. By the time she’s finished with her second draft, it’s over 20000 words long. She types the article up a third time for good measure and, after reading it over twice for typos, prints it out. She smiles when she sees Eren giving her a thumbs-up as she gets up to retrieve the freshly printed article and tries not to look too happy when she sees Annie and Reiner gaping at her.

“I’ve finished the article,” Petra says. She holds it out and offers it to Theo, but he doesn’t take it. In fact, he looks rather disinterested in it even though Petra has finished the task far earlier than requested.

“I don’t review the articles,” Theo says. With a frown, he pushes his rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose. The wrinkles around the corners of his mouth look especially deep at the moment.

“Ah, of course,” Petra says, immediately feeling stupid. Theo might be the head of the writing department, but he’s still a writer like her. Obviously, Petra should be handing this over to Yelean or someone else on the editing team. She takes a step back. “My apologies. I’ll hand this over to Yelena so she can look it over -” She doesn’t quite get to finish her sentence before Theo interrupts.

“Not Yelena. Not Yelena or anyone else on the editing team,” he says and Petra freezes in confusion. When it’s clear that Petra doesn’t understand what he’s saying, the head writer gestures in the direction of Zeke’s office. “Hand it over to the CEO. He’s the one that reviews the feature articles for these houses and apartments.”

“The … CEO?” Petra echoes. She’s never heard of a CEO working so closely with the writing team before. Is it because this magazine is so small?

Theo sees that Petra hasn’t moved and raises an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?” he asks. He waits as if he expects Petra to argue with him or raise a concern.

Petra hurriedly shakes her head. “No, not at all. I was just a bit … surprised to learn how involved the CEO is with the magazine,” she says. Before Theo can glare at her any longer, Petra turns on her heel and starts walking towards the CEO’s office. She’s so nervous that she nearly trips over her own foot but manages to regain her balance before she lands face-first on the carpet. Behind her, she hears Eren give her a small cheer, but his kind words do little to encourage her.

She finds herself at the CEO’s door, the physical copy of her article clutched nervously to her chest. It’s fine that she’s here, she thinks. She can be a professional. Yes, her CEO is ridiculously good-looking and accomplished and someone she’s watched obsessively only for the past six months, but he’s also her boss and she can act like a normal employee in front of him … right?

Petra takes a deep breath and raises a hand towards the mahogany door. She’s about to knock but the door opens in front of her and she’s face-to-face with Zeke Jaeger. She had seen him just yesterday, but the sight of him still makes her feel as if she’s about to pass out. It’s a miracle that she’s still standing.

“H-hello,” Petra says. She’s pretty sure her eyes are bulging out of her head.

“You were standing there for a while. I hope you weren’t thinking of standing there all day,” Zeke says, and Petra can feel her cheeks flush horribly. The CEO points at the papers Petra is still clutching to her chest. With an eyebrow arched, he asks, “I don’t suppose those are for me?”

“Ah, yes! This is for you!” Petra says and practically shoves them in Zeke’s chest. Her palms are way too sweaty for this. Hastily, she wipes them against the fabric of her skirt and then winces. She probably should have waited until she was out of Zeke’s sight before doing that. She hopes that he’s too busy glancing at her article to really notice her. Hopping nervously from foot to foot, Petra jabs a thumb behind her and laughs nervously. “You’re probably super busy, so I’ll just be going -”

“Stay here,” Zeke says. He looks up from his papers and wags a finger at Petra, signaling the writer to follow him as he walks over to his desk. Reluctantly, Petra steps into his office, but she doesn’t dare take a step past the doorway. At his desk, Zeke notices that Petra hasn’t taken the seat across from him and he frowns. He waves a hand. “Come on. Shut the door behind you.”

Petra feels like crying, but she plasters a smile on her face and does as she’s told. Her knees feel weak and she’s not sure if it’s entirely because she finds the CEO terrifying. She doesn’t know how she makes it to his desk without collapsing halfway. Petra takes the seat across from Zeke and gives him a polite smile that he doesn’t return because he’s too busy scanning the article she had written. She bites her lip instead, crossing her legs together tightly and letting her hands sit idly in her lap. Her palms are sweating again.

“It’s easier to just get the little comments and edits finished right away. Less procrastination that way,” Zeke says absentmindedly and Petra hums if only because she doesn’t know how to respond. With his free hand, he plucks a red pen from his pen holder and begins to calmly mark up Petra’s paper.

Petra’s not exactly sure what she should be doing as she waits for Zeke to read and mark up her article. She tries not to panic as he colors her paper red with more and more marks. She thought it was bad enough when he would circle things and put checkmarks next to others, but it’s even worse when he begins to write things in the margins. It takes all her willpower not to scoot up in her seat and crane her neck just to see exactly what he’s writing.

He’s not even halfway done, but the first page is filled with red. Zeke puts the papers down without warning and sets his pen down beside it. He has an unreadable smile on his face. “You write quite sentimentally.”

Petra purses her lips. She’s been told so in the past, but it was always said by others as a compliment. Previous editors were happy to feature her work with minimal changes, praising her ability to connect with readers and appeal to their interests. With Zeke, the words seem more disappointed than impressed. After a moment, she nods and says, “I’ve been told so in the past. I believe it’s one of my strengths.”

“Hmm,” Zeke hums and Petra winces. That can’t be a good sign. His fingers begin to tap the paper and he looks at her curiously. “I’m not sure your sentimental style is suitable for this type of article.”

Petra blinks. “... Excuse me?”

Zeke leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. Petra tries not to pay attention to how the buttons of his shirt strain against his chest chest or how his broad shoulders easily fill in his suit. She focuses his full attention on his stern expression instead, the firm line stretched across his lips and his steady eyes as he gazes at her.

It’s really a terrible idea, Petra realizes. No matter how hard Petra tries to look at Zeke through a professional lens, she just comes face-to-face with the fact that Zeke is the same man she’s been watching on screen for months. She also comes to realize that it’s true what people say about others never looking as good as in real life as they do on screen. In Zeke’s case, he looks even better than he ever did in his videos and it makes Petra want to curse under her breath.

“Your writing focuses a lot on your own personal feelings about the penthouse and why it appeals to you,” Zeke says. He turns Petra’s paper and slides it towards her. Perhaps he expects her to take a glimpse of his comments, but all the words are just swimming in front of her eyes. “I want you to focus more on the penthouse itself and its various amenities. Talk about the floor area, for example, or the privacy that living in such a space would allow. It would also be wise to have a paragraph or two about the neighborhood and the high-end stores located there and the fact that purchasing such a place is a good investment because of the high resale value.”

“Right …” Petra’s voice trails off. She feels like she should have jotted all of this down, but she didn’t bring a pen with her. Biting her lip, she takes the paper and looks at the red markings all across the page. She’ll probably have to rewrite the entire thing.

“You said you don’t know a lot about real estate?”

“N-no,” Petra says and looks up. “I know … a little bit.” She knows as much as she could absorb from Zeke’s videos, but there was still a lot that she could never wrap her head around. But she’s not going to admit to her CEO that she compulsively watches his videos whenever she’s feeling under the weather.

Zeke gets up from his seat and walks over to his bookcase. He peruses its contents, eyes scanning the titles on the spines until he finds what he needs. He finally plucks out three books — two of them quite thick — and then lays them out on the desk in front of Petra. The thickest book has the words The Book on Investing in Real Estate written on it in gold script. Zeke reaches over to tap on its cover. “Read these in your downtime. I’m sure it’ll help improve your writing and give you the background to properly write for the magazine.”

Petra reaches for them and sets them in her lap. She tries not to let her shoulders sag. “Thanks. I’ll read them.” She takes a deep breath and smiles. “I’ll … think about what you said and read your comments. I’ll have this rewritten for you soon.”

“Good, good,” Zeke says. He waves her off dismissively, stroking his beard with his other hand. “Write up your next draft as quickly as possible then. It’ll be good to have this in quickly because the deadline is so close.”

“Alright, I will,” Petra says with gritted teeth. She’s gripping her papers so tightly in her hands that they might rip in two, although she doesn’t know if it’s from rage or fear.

Her first instinct upon returning to her desk is to collapse, but her work ethic doesn’t allow her to. Instead, she takes a quick scan of the CEO’s red scribbles on her paper, opens a blank document on her computer, and begins to type away. She’s written a few hundred words in her new document when she notices that her coworkers are staring at her with incredulous looks on their faces. Some of them even look impressed, although Petra has no idea why. Her typing slows before stopping completely.

“What?” she asks nervously. Had she done something she wasn’t supposed to?

“Nothing!” Eren says quickly. He flashes her a grin and says, “You’re just amazing.”

The compliment does make Petra feel slightly better about her situation, but she doesn’t know what she’s done to earn it. “Thank you?”

If the other writers are impressed with her, they’ve already gotten over it. All of them have turned to their computers and continued writing. Under Annie’s breath, the blonde mutters, “Better finish that draft quickly. You don’t know how many more drafts Zeke will ask you for before he’s satisfied.”

Petra doesn’t respond, but she does take the warning to heart. She isn’t surprised when Zeke turns down her next draft or the third one or even the one after that. She is, however, surprised when she’s asked to revise her article ten times over because her writing can never satisfy the strict CEO. Every time she steps out of his office, she grows more and more frustrated and more and more confused about what the man really wants. When she finally manages to write an article that Zeke approves of, it’s nearly 7 PM and the sun is beginning to set. Petra’s surprised that her fingers aren’t bleeding from all the typing she’s done today.

“This is decent work for your first day here,” Zeke says as he tucks the article into a folder. “Send the soft copy to Yelena before you leave tonight. I’m sure it was rough working on all of those revisions, but they’ll come easier as you familiarize yourself with basic real estate knowledge.”

“Yes, of course,” Petra says. She hopes her voice doesn’t sound too strained. Her lips are stretched in a smile so tight that she’s afraid her face might crack. She bids the CEO goodnight and steps out of his office, grumbling under her breath all the way to her desk.

When she had first started at Sweet Home, she wasn’t sure if she found the CEO intimidatingly frightening or horribly attractive. After working here for a full day (and some overtime), she definitely knows what she thinks of him.

“So?” Hanji asks over the phone that night. “What’s your opinion now that you’ve met the guy and had a chance to work with him up close?”

Petra lets out a deep breath before answering. “I think he’s a huge dick.”

Hanji cackles.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

At the end of Petra’s first week at Sweet Home, Theo surprises her by inviting her to a welcome dinner. She didn’t think anyone at Sweet Home liked her enough to give her a welcome dinner. Even if the name of the magazine they worked at is inviting, nobody except Eren has been particularly welcoming to her.

“Sure,” Petra says, blinking.

“Good, good,” Theo says, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s good to get to know your coworkers.”

Annie leans forward in her seat. Half her body is draped across her desk. She still looks as bored and uninterested as ever. “I honestly didn’t think you’d last more than a few hours on your first day.”

“I bet three days,” Reiner confesses sheepishly. “You’re a lot more impressive than I thought.”

Petra’s not exactly sure what it means when your new coworkers bet how long you’d last at their company before quitting. Is it a reflection about how they feel about the company or about her personally? She frowns and wonders if she should thank them.

“The CEO is kind of a dick,” Reiner clarifies in a loud whisper.

“Ah,” Petra says, finally understanding. She feels slightly better that everyone here shares the same sentiments she does regarding the CEO, but it does worry her that she’ll be working under someone like Zeke for the unforeseeable future.

“Yeah, we went through a dozen writers before we found you,” Annie grumbles. She sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. Her lower lip is stuck out in a pout. Although she generally looks unfriendly, the blonde’s expression looks rather cute to Petra right now. “I had to write so much more than I usually did. It was a pain in the butt.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad I could be of help,” Petra says awkwardly. She grips her knees, not knowing how to proceed with the conversation. Yes, she could talk about how much a jerk she thinks the CEO is even though she’s only worked with him for a week, but it still feels wrong to badmouth someone.

Petra looks around and her eyes stop on Eren. She freezes. He’s busy typing away on his phone, but there’s no way he didn’t hear everything everyone’s said about his brother. She’s about to open her mouth to apologize, but Reiner interrupts her.

“Don’t worry,” the writer snorts. “Eren knows how big of a jerk his older brother can be.”

At the mention of his name, Eren looks up. Seeing Petra’s worried look, he flashes her a smile. “Yeah, don’t worry. My brother can be a pain in the ass sometimes,” Eren says before looking back down at his phone. “He has … issues. But he’s not that bad.”

Annie snorts and Reiner rolls his eyes.

Theo picks up his coat from his chair and slings it over his shoulder. He fishes his keys from his pockets and points at the writing team. “Come on, let’s head out. I’ll drive.” His finger remains on Petra. “Ral, I hope you like barbecue.” He walks towards the door and wags the rest of his team over to follow him, not bothering to look back.

Everyone is already up and following Theo out the door. Only Petra is scrambling to collect her things — her coat, her purse, her phone — and Eren waits politely behind her. They shuffle out the door as soon as Petra collects her things and find Theo and the others waiting for them in the front of the building.

“Let’s go,” Theo says, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Yelena and the editors are waiting for us already.” The head writer opens the door for his team, ushering them in one by one. Just as Petra is about to slide in beside Eren, Theo looks up and his face suddenly turns pale.

Petra wonders what’s got him so shocked. With one foot in the car, Petra turns her head and sees the CEO standing right behind her. In her surprise, she stumbles backward and closes her eyes as she prepares to hit the pavement, but someone stops her fall. When she opens her eyes, she finds herself in Zeke’s arms, his eyebrow raised. She should probably thank him, but right now she just wishes he had just let her fall.

“Sorry,” she mumbles as she hurriedly stands, brushing her clothes off. She’s too embarrassed to look at him.

Zeke doesn’t reply to her. Instead, he looks at Theo, who’s still standing there in shock with his hand holding the car door open. He has an unreadable smile on his face. “Eren told me you were all having dinner to welcome our newest employee,” he says. His hands are held politely behind his back. “I thought it would be appropriate that I come.”

Everyone turns to glare at Eren, but he hardly flinches. Instead, he sits up in his seat and grins. “Oh, good. I was afraid you didn’t get my text in time.”

“There’s no room in the car,” Theo blurts and the smile on Zeke’s face falters just the tiniest bit.

“It’s fine,” Zeke says. He gestures to his own car parked in the space reserved especially for the CEO. Unsurprisingly, it’s a Mercedes in pristine condition. “I can meet everyone there.”

“Petra, you should go with him,” Eren says. Now everyone stares at Eren with their eyes bulging out of their heads, but Eren hardly notices. He just smiles innocently at Petra as if he’s completely unaware that he’s setting her up with the biggest asshole she’s ever met. “Keep him company so he’s not lonely.”

“Eren,” Petra hisses, eyes flitting over at Eren’s older brother.

“That’s really not necessary -” Zeke begins, but Eren quickly waves goodbye to the both of them and slams the door in their faces.

Theo Magath stands there for half a second, the man still in shock. Petra and Zeke blink at the head writer for a few moments, Petra silently begging her manager to save her with pleading eyes, but he quickly runs to the driver’s seat and speeds away and Petra is left alone with Zeke.

“That was … odd,” Zeke says, and Petra can only nod numbly in agreement. After a beat, Zeke sighs and turns to her, gesturing towards his car. “Shall we?”

Petra wants to run away, but she also wants to not get fired for running away from her boss. She musters up a smile and follows Zeke to his car. She hates that he’s courteous enough to open the door for her as she slides in. For a split second, Petra foolishly believes that he might be a gentleman until she sits down in the slick leather seats of Zeke’s Mercedes and is hit with new car smell, which just reminds her what an overly pretentious and rich dick her employer is for overworking her to death this week alone.

Petra has been on a number of awkward car rides, but this one is by far the worst. Zeke does not take any attempt to hold a conversation with Petra and every question Petra asks him in an effort to be cordial is met with one-worded answers. She’s beginning to think he hates her too or at the very least finds her a huge nuisance. Within five minutes of the ride, she imagines herself unbuckling her seatbelt, throwing open the door, and rolling out of the Mercedes-Benz, but the car’s leather upholstery is just too damn comfortable.

Petra isn’t sure how she’s able to survive the entire car ride to the restaurant. When Zeke finally parks at the Korean barbecue restaurant, Petra wastes no time in getting out of the car and shutting the door behind her. For a second, she’s afraid that the rest of the Sweet Home employees decided to ditch the entire dinner, but she spies Theo Magath’s car parked at the far end of the lot and she lets out a sigh of relief.

The sound of the car locking startles Petra and when she turns around, Zeke is already holding the door to the restaurant open for her. Flustered, she quickly walks over, mumbling a “thank you” as she goes through the door.

“You guys made it!” Eren cheers as Zeke and Petra approach the table where the Sweet Home staff sits. He lifts a mug full of beer to toast their arrival, nearly spilling some in the process, but nobody else follows suit. He doesn’t seem to notice that everyone else is glaring at him. “I was afraid you guys got lost, but at least you would have each other for company.”

Zeke sits down at the end of the table and frowns at his brother. “Why would we get lost? My car has a GPS. You know that.”

“I know. I was just saying. If you got lost, which obviously you didn’t and probably wouldn’t have since you do have a GPS in your car, at least you would have each other,” Eren says, sighing almost dreamily.

Petra realizes with horror that there’s only one open seat left at the table and it’s right next to the CEO. She desperately looks around to see if there’s another seat somewhere that she hadn’t seen, but there isn’t one. From the other end of the table, Reiner gives her a sympathetic shrug of his shoulders and Petra dejectedly takes the last empty seat.

It’s meant to be a dinner celebrating Petra’s addition to the Sweet Home writing staff, but the atmosphere feels like a funeral. Hardly anyone says a word except to pass utensils or side dishes around the table. The only people eating normally are Eren and Zeke, who both don’t seem to notice how uncomfortable the rest of the Sweet Home party is feeling. Petra wonders if it’s a Jaeger thing to be unable to read the room.

They’re only there a little over a half hour when Theo pushes his chair back with a loud screech and announces that he’ll be leaving.

“I have to drive my children to school tomorrow,” he explains as he shrugs on his coat.

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” Yelena reminds him.

“They have … Saturday school,” Theo replies. He stands there awkwardly. “They all received detention and were assigned Saturday school.”

“All three of them?” Reiner asks curiously, and the head writer glares at him.

“Yes, all three of them,” Theo snaps. He looks around at the table. “Now I’ll be heading out, if you don’t mind. Have a pleasant weekend, all.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and heads out the door. The other writers hurriedly begin to shrug on their coats and jackets as well, slinging bags over their shoulders and running after Theo because he had been their ride there.

“In that case, I’ll also be going,” Yelena says, buttoning her blazer as she stands up.

“You just don’t want to pay the tab,” Zeke says wryly. It’s the closest to a joke that Petra has heard the CEO crack and she nearly falls out of her chair because of it.

“You’re absolutely right,” Yelena says. She stands up and gestures for the rest of the editors to follow her. “You’re all welcome to stay, but you’ll have to call a cab.” It seems that the other editors don’t care to stay either because they all stand up in unison and hover towards the door as they wait for the editor-in-chief to leave. To Zeke, Yelena says, “Have a good evening, Zeke. You as well, Petra.”

“Wait for me!” Eren says. He had somehow gotten left behind when the other writers had left earlier. Yelena just waves him over, signaling for him to hurry up. The young writer slings his coat over his shoulder and turns to leave, but not before leaning down towards Petra and whispering, “My brother can probably drive you back to your apartment. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” Before Petra can protest, Eren winks at her and hurries after Yelena and the other editors who are already leaving.

“I should go, too,” Petra says. She stands up so abruptly that she nearly knocks her chair over.

Zeke looks up at her in surprise. “Let me drive you home then,” he tells her and finishes the rest of his beer. He waves over the waiter, signaling that he’d like to pay. He doesn’t look at the tab when they hand it to him, just offers them his card so they can scurry away and process his payment.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother,” Petra says.

“It’s no bother,” Zeke replies, and Petra winces. She should probably come up with a reason to refuse a ride, but her brain is failing her. When Zeke collects his card, he throws on his coat and gestures for her to follow him. Petra has no choice but to let him lead her out the door.

Petra sits staring at her phone the entire car ride home. Because she doesn’t want the CEO to see the shabby neighborhood she lives in (although, really, why should she care what the bastard thinks?), she asks him to drop her off a few blocks away and resolves to walk the rest of the way there even though it’s cold and dark and the neighborhood creeps her out at this time of night. As soon as Zeke stops at the right street, Petra thanks him quickly, grabs her bag, and makes a run for it. Well, she walks as briskly as possible without making it obvious that she’s making an escape.

She regrets it midway to her apartment when she’s walking uphill and her calves are killing her. Glancing at her phone, she sees that it’s almost 8 PM, and she frowns as she tucks her phone back in her pocket. She’s about to stop talking and take a break, but she notices that there’s a sound of footsteps that abruptly stops a few seconds after she does. Is it paranoid to think that someone might be following her? Considering how dangerous this neighborhood can be at night, not really. Petra takes a few tentative steps forward and the footsteps behind her follow. When she speeds up, the person behind her does as well. Her heart begins to pick up speed.

Petra’s running to her apartment now. Adrenaline rushes through her veins and she ignores the burning in her calves. She curses her choice to wear heels today, but she’s too scared to even discard them, afraid that whoever’s behind her will catch up to her. Biting her lip, she continues to run. If she screams, would people even bother to come out and save her?

When her door is in sight, she begins to fumble for her purse and pulls out her keys. It takes her way too long to unlock the door, but she finally manages. Pulling the door open, Petra hurriedly slips inside. She pulls the door close behind her, about to breathe a sigh of relief now that she’s safe inside her apartment, but a foot slips inside and prevents her from shutting the door.

Desperate now, Petra begins to scream. “Get out!” she shrieks. She can’t see the person trying to break into her apartment. It’s far too dark, but she’s too scared to fumble for the light switch. Instead, she tries to slam the door on the stalker’s foot, but the person doesn’t budge. They just growl in pain before using both hands to open the door wider. Petra isn’t strong enough to stop them. “Help! Someone help! Please!”

Petra stumbles backward and the stranger is in her apartment now. She crawls backward until she hits the coffee table. There’s a sob stuck in her throat and tears sting at her eyes. She’s terrified. She’s not sure of what she’s saying, if she’s begging the stranger to leave or if she’s desperately crying for help. Her hands fumble for something on the table, but she doesn’t know what she’s reaching for.

Her hands find empty ramen bowls, and she chucks those at the shadow creeping closer to her. She throws chopsticks and plastic utensils she had left laying around. The shadow dodges the old books thrown its way. Petra finds the pot she had used for her ramen this morning and throws it at the shadow and it hits the stranger with a dull thunk. The stalker falls to the floor with a thud.

Petra finds she’s still shaking. She’s too shocked to stand up and hit the light switch, and she’s too numb to reach for the phone to call for the cops. It’s a surprise when a few minutes later, the lights turn on in her apartment and she sees Zeke standing at the doorway of her apartment.

He stands there in disbelief as he takes in the scene: Petra sobbing on the floor while an unknown assailant lies unconscious on the floor. “Petra?” he asks. “What happened?”

Petra can only cry.

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“My son was only trying to check up on her!” says Petra’s landlord. The woman is exasperated, speaking as if this is all some misunderstanding. She looks at Petra in annoyance. “He noticed that she was coming home rather late and just walked her home in the dark. Is that such a crime? I don’t understand why entering her apartment would be illegal. She’s our tenant after all. Isn’t it normal to do a check-in of your tenants?”

“I didn’t need him to walk me home. I never needed him to walk me home,” Petra says, still shaking in her seat. She closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to be here and reliving all of this in the middle of a police station. She wants to curl up in bed. She wants to forget this ever happened. She wants to be safe at home. But she doesn’t have a home to go to.

“Ma’am, please don’t raise your voice,” the policeman says to the landlord, and the woman harrumphs unhappily. He looks too tired to deal with any of this, and it makes Petra want to leave even more. “If you would rather all just settle, maybe it would be for the best. You don’t want to make a big deal of this, do you?” he asks Petra, and she flinches.

“Maybe we should make a big deal of this!” the landlord says. She gestures to her son, who’s sitting on the side with an ice pack pressed to the bruise that’s still swelling on his forehead. “Look what she’s done to my poor son! He just wanted to see if she was alright. Do you know how kind and caring we are to her? She’s taking such poor care of that studio apartment even though we’ve taken pity on her considering her situation. She has rats in there! She lives like some kind of monster.”

It takes everything for Petra not to scream right then and there. ‘If you want me to leave so badly, then I’ll leave,” Petra whispers. Her voice is so quiet that it’s almost impossible to hear her. She raises her voice. “I’ll leave. You can take that fucking apartment back. I don’t want it. You can take my security deposit too. I don’t need it. I don’t need it. I don’t fucking want it, so take it!” Petra stands up so suddenly that her chair falls backward, but she doesn’t bother to pick it up. She just walks out as quickly as she can, biting her lip as tears fall down her face. When she leaves the police station, she sees that Zeke is waiting for her by the entrance.

She’s embarrassed to be seen crying in front of her boss, but he’s already seen her in a much more humiliating state so she just lets the tears fall. “What are you doing here?” she asks him.

“You’re my employee,” he replies. He looks uncomfortable standing there. A hand pats awkwardly at his breast pocket, fingers fumbling with his silk handkerchief. “It’s a good thing you left your wallet in my car, or else I wouldn’t have come after you. Are you … okay?”

She’s not okay at all. She wants to snap at him for asking such a stupid question, but she doesn’t have the energy to. Petra walks to the nearest bench and closes her eyes. When she opens them, she sees the city lights sparkling in front of her. “Look at all of those apartments … those houses … those homes,” she says quietly as Zeke hovers beside her. Tears begin to fill her eyes once more and those lights begin to blur. “All of those homes, but none of them are for me. I always thought I might be able to have one someday … that I would be able to have a place to call home. But it’s impossible for me.”

Petra breaks down and cries. Her chest hurts from how empty she feels. She’s never felt more alone.

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Petra doesn’t expect to find herself at one of Zeke’s apartments by the end of the night. He mentions that he has several and that it’s no problem allowing her to live in one for the time being until she gets her housing situation sorted out. She is his employee, he reminds her, and not having a place to eat and sleep may affect her work life. Until he had mentioned that last part, Petra was almost touched by his kindness. Almost.

“Keep the doors locked,” Zeke reminds her before he leaves. He hovers at the door frame and takes a few last glances at the apartment unit. It’s a one-bedroom apartment that’s far more spacious than anything Petra’s ever been in. “Treat this place as your own for now. We can discuss this more later

“Thank you,” Petra mumbles. She keeps her head down. After everything that’s happened, she can’t bring herself to look her CEO in the eye. “I’ll be sure to keep it clean. It’ll be like I’m not living here at all.”

Zeke opens his mouth to say something, but closes it. After a moment, he says, “Goodnight, Miss Ral.”

“Goodnight,” she mumbles before shutting the door. As soon as she hears his footsteps retreat, she lets out a huge sigh that seems to echo across the empty apartment.

Zeke had given her a brief tour around the apartment before he had left, but she still wanders aimlessly around it before heading to the bedroom. It’s fully furnished, completely decorated as if someone will live here soon, someone who isn’t her. The furniture is much nicer than anything Petra has ever owned. She doesn’t want to touch anything, scared to leave even a fingerprint on a hardwood surface. It’s better than the studio she had been in this morning, but being here makes Petra feel even worse.

She eventually retreats to the bedroom and lays on the queen-sized bed. It feels like she’s laying on a cloud, but Petra can’t seem to get comfortable. She spends nearly an hour tossing and turning in bed. The longer she’s awake, the worse she feels about being her. This place is everything she’s dreamed of in a house of her own: beautiful, spacious, a place just for her. She doesn’t know why she can’t get comfortable.

It’s 2 AM. Petra should really be asleep, but she finds she can’t. She walks to the bathroom, the porcelain tiles cold against her skin. Petra doesn’t bother turning on the light, just crawls into the bathroom and somehow finds it more comfortable than the bed she had tried to sleep in previously. It’s terrible, how much she wants this place to be hers, but she knows it’ll never happen.