You show up in your best business casual fit. You spent FAR too long picking it in front of the mirror. Getting a job is hard, right now. You'd been searching for several months, and it had gotten really urgent when the entire corporation that owned the store you worked at went under. You lucked out hard with this one, and you don't want to waste your opportunity. You adjust your hair, nervously, before taking a deep breath and walking into the lobby, a crisp and corporate space tiled in marble white and accented in deep, rich green. The lobby features square columns with water running down their sides and into barely-visible grates on the floor, creating a pleasant background trickling noise throughout the room.

The woman at the reception desk in the center of the room sees you and grins, and greets you by name. "Hi, sweetheart," She says, which is a little overly familiar, but you're having trouble minding, because she's of the exact sort of demeanor you suppose would call ANYONE "sweetheart." She's an older woman, and has a smiling, soft face, wreathed with brushed out curls, and she smells nice as she leads you onto a large elevator with an upholstered bench, up three floors, around a few corners, and back to an office. She introduces herself as Sharon on the way, and questions you politely about your weekend.

"Now, sweetheart, everything's just about finalized, we just need you to sign the final papers," she instructs, walking over to a filing cabinet. She pulls out a manilla envelope from one of the drawers, and hands you several sheets of paper to sign.

Most of it is pretty normal, the standard tax forms and benefits elections. The benefits here are really nice. But then you get to the page marked, "Finalized Offer Letter and Salary Confirmation."

There is an extra zero added to the yearly pay amount. You stare up at Sharon. "Is... is this correct?" You ask, blinking and looking back down at the paper. "This is, it's..."

The receptionist looks down at it. She doesn't seem startled or surprised. "Yes, dear, that's correct. Is that not what we put on the listing? Oh, Robbie in the hiring department must have made a little goof. Yes, that's all correct."

You sign the offer letter then and there, not bothering to read the rest of it. This is... honestly more money than you ever thought you'd make. This is a dream come true! Your heart is racing.

Sharon seems amused by your giddiness, which you thought you were doing a good job of keeping off your face. Evidently not good enough. "Come along, then," she says, standing and beckoning for you to follow.

She leads you to a... locker room. Not exactly where you thought you'd be heading? She hands you a tie dye rainbow t-shirt with a daisy on the pocket. "Since you'll be in the Daisy Room," she explains, like that explains anything. "The tie dye is the theme for today."

Apparently this workplace is big on themes. Huh. It seems a little odd to exchange your nice top for the t-shirt, but... you don't want to stand out on the first day. So you change your shirt (shouldn't it be illegal for Sharon to be in the room while you do that? you expected her to leave the room, but she just kept standing there expectantly) and follow her out of the locker room.

You re-enter the elevator. Instead of going upstairs, where you had your initial round of interviews, she enters a code into a keypad, and the elevator descends downwards.

The hallway it opens up into is... different. The shade of green here is brighter and paler, with a cheerful yellow to accent it instead of the stark corporate white upstairs. The wall on your left facing has a series of glass walls and doors looking into a variety of bright and colorful rooms, while the wall on your right has what look to be a series of gender neutral bathrooms.

Maybe it's a daycare for the employees' kids? You don't remember that being in the benefits package. And then, Sharon leads you past one of the rooms, one with a dandelion on the door, and you peer in, curious, before recoiling, face red.

There are a lot of adults in diapers and onesies in there.

From the brief glimpse you got, it looked just like a daycare, but with everything absurdly sized up. The adults toddle around, one woman playing with blocks, a grown man chewing absentmindedly on the tail of a stuffed cat as another man, this one in an apron with that same dandelion logo, shows him flashcards with animal pictures. Sharon leads you on, and stunned and speechless as you are, you follow.

"You'll be in here, sweetheart," she says, gesturing to another door. "See your shirt? That designates you as a Daisy!"

Your jaw goes slack with astonishment. In the room, which has a daisy on the door, people are wearing similar tie-dye t shirts to yours, and... well, they're mostly not in diapers, but they're doing toddler activities. The room is littered with toys, sippy cups, books, and even what look like training potties, all in adult sizes. One person holds the hand of a person in a daisy apron as they wals her to one of the potties, and you look away, covering your eyes as she pulls her pants down and sits on the potty in plain view.

Sharon scans an ID at the door, and opens it for you to enter, quickly filling out a sheet at the small front desk near the door. "Here you are. I'll introduce you to the caregivers for the room, and then-"

You finally find your voice. "I... I think there's been some mistake." You say. "I didn't sign up for this. This was supposed to be an office job?"

You can't stop your voice from going up at the end of the sentence as you see a short, wide woman with a daisy apron get up and make eye contact with you, grinning at you like you're a cute, shy little kid. She heads towards you.

"Yes you did, silly." Sharon says. "You even asked me about it, remember?"

You do remember... You had been so caught up in the salary that you didn't even read the rest of the paper. Surely, something like this would have been noticeable, though, even if you were being unobservant.

"I don't want to go in there." You say.

"Well, going in there is your job, sweetheart." Sharon says. "I'm not going to make you do it, but if you don't even go in on the first day, you're not likely to keep the position." She's gentle, but firm about it, in a way that makes it seem like you're overreacting, and this is all completely normal.

And, well, okay, it's weird, but... you're making a lot of money for it. You can't go another week without a job, you'll lose your apartment.

And it's not like you're in the baby room next door. Some of the people in the room are doing things that look tolerable; reading books, playing cards.

Fuck it, you can always quit if you need to, right?

You step into the room.

"Good choice," Sharon says, her smile returning. "Now, enjoy yourself! I have to get back to my desk.

She leaves, shutting the door behind her with a click and a beep.

You shift focus to the woman heading towards you.

"Hi, baby!" She says, enthusiastically. Her big, colorful earrings sway as she talks expressively. Even though she's looking up at you, she projects a tall authoratative presence. "You can call me Miss Claire. We are so glad to have you here today! It's always so fun to have a brand new Daisy to take care of. Are you potty trained?" She asks.

The question flabbergasts you enough that you don't respond right away.

"It's okay if you're not sure. We can put a pulllup on you for now, and-"

"No, no, I'm potty trained," you answer, quickly. "I am."

"Aw, good job!" Claire says. "Let's go add your name to the potty chart, then."

She leads you to the wall on the left side of the room, which is mostly covered by a giant whiteboard. Attached to it with magnets are a hodgepodge of pictures, posters, and childish drawings, and a big list of rules. The top one reads "I will not leave the Daisy Room without express permission," and is followed by several others. She heads to a big yellow sign, with a column for names and then seven columns for the days of the week, cheerfully labeled "Potty Time!" in bright letters, and adds your name in big bubble letters.

You don't want to judge, but... there are a lot of rain clouds on the chart.

You get a good look around the room while she finishes writing. It's huge, extending far further in than it initially appeared when you saw it from the hallway. Your eyes scan over everything: a craft area, two Daisies laying out a very intricate train track, a TV with pillows and chairs around it, a snack area, a quiet area with cots and mats folded neatly, where one Daisy with headphones on reclines on a beanbag and colors in a notebook, a colorful jungle gym with things to climb and slides and swings, and the very public potty corner with a row of potties and a changing table, which you try and fail to look away from as you notice someone shuck off his pants without a care in the world, revealing a soaked diaper, and then clamber up. He lifts his legs up and waits, and someone in an apron heads over.

You are starting to need to pee. You push the thought to the back of your mind. You've never been able to use the restroom in front of strangers, and you really don't want to. There are the bathrooms outside of the room, right? You'll just go sneak off to use one of those later. They can't watch everyone all the time.

"It's free play right now," Claire says. "Do you know where you'd like to go? Or should I find you a friend?"

"Um," You say, tearing your eyes from where the man is currently being wiped down. Maybe you should get out of here after all.

"Aw, you're a shy little Daisy, aren't you?" She coos. "It's okay, we'll find you a friend."

Before you can protest, she steps over to the front desk and rings a little bell hanging from a post. The chatter in the room ceases and everyone looks at you.

You barely resist the urge to hide behind the desk.

"I have a friend here who needs a friend!" She calls out, loud and clear, and then tells everyone your name and that you're new.

A few heads perk up, but the woman who approaches you is a head taller than Claire. She's dressed up in a fluffy, poofy skirt that seems to you the platonic ideal of something someone would wear to a tea party, and she's wearing colorful beads in her hair that match. She also has little bells on the laces of her colorful sneakers. The result is a sensory experience of a person; as she skips over her beads clack and her skirt flounces and her shoes jingle. It makes her seem like a fairy.

She grabs your hand, and pulls you over to the stuffed animal shelf with a practiced lack of fanfare.

"My name is Hannah. We're going to play veterinary hospital. You're going to be the nurse," she informs you, tapping a finger against her lips decisively as she examines the plush on display, then selects a soft tabby cat plush, which she stuffs into your arms. Hannah then goes to another shelf and returns with a play doctor kit.

"What's the patient's name?" Doctor Hannah asks, putting on her white lab coat.

Stevie the cat, who you name, has a stuck hairball. He is prescribed hairball medicine. Then, Amy the hedgehog puppet needs a nail trim, and Nona the dog gets a prenatal exam where it's revealed she was actually just full of beans.

You get surprisingly involved. Another Daisy named Ken joins in as a lizard owner, and his lizard named Pebble has turned purple, and it turns out that this is because Pebble is a chameleon.

"I'm getting a snack!" Ken says. "Do you want to come?"

You're starting to have to pee more now, you realize, as you leave the world of the veterinary hospital. Your bladder sends an aching complaint. You normally wouldn't wait this long to go. But, you're also hungry and thirsty. You haven't eaten yet today and you haven't had anything to drink since this morning. Hannah cements your decision by also going with Ken, and you really don't want to be left by yourself.

The snacks are really good! The fridge is full of things like little premade sandwiches on rolls, boxes of premade sandwiches, dried fruit, nuts, and sweets. You eat three of the little sandwiches and drink a carton of chocolate milk. You haven't had chocolate milk in ages. You drink the whole thing, even though your bladder protests at the idea of more liquid.

Hannah stands up. She stands with her legs apart, and concentrates. There's a hissing sound, and your face goes red as you realize; she's peeing. You clench your legs together tightly at the sound as your bladder tries to release in tandem with the noise. You need to sneak off to the bathroom very, very soon.

"Oh, that's a good idea, Hannah," Ken says, nonchalantly finishing up the cracker he's eating. "I have to go potty too. But I'm trying to be sunny for a week so I can go in the pool without a diaper when it's our class's turn next Friday, so I'm not wearing a pullup today."

"I don't like to have to stop what I'm doing to go pee," Hannah says "So I'm wearing mine. And I don't mind the swim diapers. They're kinda fun." She's just casually talking as she finishes peeing. "I'll get changed later. I'm going back to the doctor's office. I'll see you there if you come back."

She skips off, although her gait is a little wider.

"Want to come to the potty with me?" Ken asks, pointing at the potty corner. "You seem like you might really have to go. You won't get punished for having an accident, but you'll get a raincloud on your chart. Two rainclouds in a week, and you're gonna have to wear pullups. You can always have them if you want, though."

You shake your head. "I'm ok. I'm going to go check out..." You look for what's close to the door. "The books." I'm going to go check out the books."

"That's fine," Ken shrugs, and walks off towards the potty corner, unbuttoning his pants.

You walk over to the door, pretending to be really interested in the books, and when none of the staff in aprons are looking, you reach for the door handle.

It doesn't open.

Not only does it not open, but a sharp little "Beep-BEEEEEEEP" noise plays. Everyone hears it, and everyone looks up. Hannah looks at you with startled eyes, and Ken shakes his head from where he's currently sitting on the potty.

"I'll take this, it's our new Daisy," Claire says, heading towards you. "Not quite used to the rules yet."

Everyone more or less goes back to what they were doing.

"Do you want to sever your contract?" Claire asks.

It's the first time anyone has truly talked to you like an adult since you got here. It's kind of like a glass of cold water to the face. You freeze.

"If you leave, which you can do," Claire says, "You'll be severing your work contract, and forfeiting this week's pay."

You shake your head. You can't. You'll lose your apartment.

"Then I'm going to assign you a consequence." She says "Some Daisies don't know about the rules when they start out, and I wouldn't ever punish them for that. But the way you were sneaking over here makes me think you were deliberately breaking the rules. Am I right?" She asks.

You nod. You squeeze your legs together. You don't know if you can hold it for however long this "consequence" is.

"Thank you for being honest. We'll go for a light consequence. You're going to have timeout on the potty for ten minutes, because, sweetie, I can tell you need to go. You can bring a stuffed animal to cover your lap, if you're shy of anyone seeing you."

She leads you over to the potty.

Everyone can see you, as you sit there, covering your lap with a big plush giraffe. You bury your face in its fur.

You need to go potty. It's so, so full! It's trying really hard to come out, but you can't let yourself go in front of everyone like this.

Seven minutes in, it aches so bad you actually try to go, but you can't relax even though your bladder cramps and aches. You squeeze the giraffe tighter, a few tears dripping from your eyes to its mane. You need to pee!

You can tell Claire is disappointed when the timer goes off and you haven't gone. "Well, honey," she says. "You can get up now, but I don't know what you think is going to happen. You poor little bladder can't keep all that peepee inside forever."

You see what's going to happen as soon as you stand, dropping the giraffe, and bend over to pull up your pants.

Your bladder spasms and the floodgates shatter. You're pissing, full force, right in front of the potty, helpless to stop it. You grab yourself with a whine, but the pee just streams between your fingers. It splatters down onto the potty and into your pants. You let out a choked cry. You can't stop!

"There, there, it's alright," Claire says, and pulls you back down to sit on the potty, helping adjust you so you're going into the bowl. The stream sprays against the plastic loudly, and the noise startles you into stopping for a moment, but then the flood of involuntary release is back and you're going in the potty. Everyone is looking again, and you can't help it. You begin to cry in earnest, with a hiccuping sob. You reach for the giraffe.

"Honey, you're gonna get peepee all over your friend Giraffe if you hug him now," Claire says, rubbing your shoulder with one hand. "Just take a deep breath and finish going potty. Then we'll get you cleaned up and you can have your giraffe."

You cry and pee and pee and cry. There's a lot of it, it takes a while. When the splashing then trickling into the bowl finally stops, Claire removes your shoes and pants. She walks you over to the sink, even though you're still completely naked from the waist down, and washes your hands for you, then takes you over to the changing table.

"Lie down, sweetie, and I'll get Giraffe," she instructs, and you numbly do what she says. You're still crying now, but quietly. Everyone in the room seems to have moved on. "There's a love. Here you are."

She hands you the giraffe, and you hug it to your chest.

She uses a little built in sprayer, "For big accidents," she explains, to spray down your legs, then dries you off. "Do you want undies or a pullup?"

You choose underwear, obviously, and she slides a pair decorated in cute, colorful cartoon dogs up and onto you. She then offers you a choice of bottoms, gives you a tight, comforting hug, and lets you go.

You shuffle, embarrassed, back towards Ken and Hannah.

"That was silly," Hannah says. "But I know new Daisies can be silly sometimes, so it's okay." She gives you a hug, and then Ken also gives you a hug. You're a little shocked at the open display of affection. You think you've been hugged more today than in the last 6 months.

They're playing restaurant now, with plastic food and plates, and you allow yourself to be comfortably distracted by filling your role as waiter and bringing the dishes to the waiting customers, who are varyingly Daisies, aproned caregivers, and different toys.

At the end of the day, a bell rings. You'd almost forgotten your work hours. Home at 6.

"Alright, everyone!" Someone in an apron who you haven't met yet calls. "Have a good night. Overnighters, please form a line over here so I can take roll. The changing rooms on the third floor are now open so you can change back into your home clothes."

You're stopped on the way out by Claire, who hands you a bag with your pants and shoes inside, fresh and clean. "I think you'll have a better day tomorrow," she says, with an encouraging smile.

Back at home, you lie on your bed in your studio apartment and stare at the ceiling.