Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You couldn’t remember when you became TV world's biggest radio star, nor when the fan mail and creepy packages started to roll in. It was as if one day you’d woken up after college and fame had rushed in to overwhelm you, not that you were complaining.

But not all good things stay good, you learned that quickly. The fame was joyous but oh so overwhelming and one day, without warning you just… snapped. It was too much, people stalking you to find out what you liked, the downright pornographic gifts that started to flood the mail, it made you sick 

So when TV-TIME&CO bought out your little local radioshack to use the building as storage, you weren’t exactly devastated. That was the nice thing about working radio, only the down right psychos actually knew what you looked like. Life was quick to sooth soon after. Hell, the place even offered you a job!

That's what led you to the position you were in now, your fame had passed almost two years ago now, the creepy mail and unsolicited… playboy worthy photos had come to almost a full stop, minus the occasional pervert who got wind of your existence. Never targeted, just idiots being idiots. Now you were starting your new position as a secretary on the main production floor, no longer hidden away in the green room. 

The office had its ups and downs, the people you worked with were always nice! Heavy drinkers who slithered off to a bar after work everyday? Yeah, but they were hard working! The bosses… They were a different story. Though you’d never exactly experienced the wrath yourself, you heard Mike and Mr. Tenna could have pretty sour attitudes. Tenna especially. They were never directed at you, but every tantrum shook the office, papers flying and people terrified of losing their jobs, he could take the world down if he really wanted. 

You had only ever seen him in passing, a glance at office parties or when he stopped for department head meetings, and even that was rare. Often Mike did it for him, Mr. Tenna was somewhat of an illusion to the world outside the production floor. But for you that was about to change. You’d landed a big promotion (after threatening to quit and start up another radio station to supplement the money you weren't making), and it was your time to shine up in the big leagues! 

Your eyes adjusted as the elevator doors opened to the blue-light fluorescents of the production floor, never bad lighting for their stars you guessed.

The people on this floor were.. Far busier than the ones a few levels down, every one looking like their lives depended on running away from danger and to the studio. You had tried to stop some, asking for directions to where you were supposed to be going, but most of them didn't bother to stop. It wasn’t until you’d grabbed a poor little pippins by the hand and practically begged for help that you got a rushed, and vague set of directions. 

Your new job details were that of an assistant, you were to schedule meetings and rework charts and old employee files, another cog in the machine to try and keep it running with minimal kinks and twists as possible. 

Compared to the other workers, you were an anomaly, and that quickly stood out to you. Maybe it was something about the way your world worked, but those who were born to be successful or great were naturally.. Taller? 

Tenna was the best specimen to view this anomaly on, though constantly fluctuating, when he was on air he looked to be about fifteen feet tall. When you saw him around the office though he tended to level out around thirteen feet, maybe it had to do with the amount of attention that was on him at any given time. Shockingly? You weren't far behind. 

During the peak of your radio days, you were always resting at around eleven feet tall, to you the world was tiny. In your age, and lack of popularity, you’d shrunk down to a whopping nine feet. Still almost triple the size of your coworkers. You didn't anticipate to shrink or grow anytime soon though, you’d never seen someone get so far down in their ranking as a darkener to shrink an unnatural amount. 

Your new desk, no matter where you moved, was always leagues too short and the chair was like that of a toddlers, small and uncomfortable. You were amidst fixing the wooden desk to a manageable size via the ‘font(?) size’ dial underneath the lip of the front when suddenly-

“Hey! You! ”  Thunk!

Your eyes suddenly flicked up to meet the gaze of the Mr. Tenna. He was.. Shockingly handsome, roguish in that way that made him a true example of a face made for television. Normally, charm radiated off of him like nothing else, but right now that tone in his voice was making your skin absolutely crawl.

“Where the hell is that report I sent over? I need that for the weather segment today!” He hissed 

Huh? You stared at him a moment with disbelief, was he really serious? Your desk supplies were still stacked high in a box literally right beside your head. “Im- Im sorry?”

His screen flashed a red colour and the edges of his screens warped as his plastic framing bent to form an angered expression, “You should be! Jesus, what do we pay you useless interns for?”

Oh

Oh. 

So that's why everyone on this floor hated their lives so much, this talking bag of dicks was their boss.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, standing up from your crouched position and looking up at him. And for a moment, his confidence seemed to falter. You were much bigger than he’d expected. Height and build. 

“I'm sorry sir, I’m new on this floor, but if you would give me..” Your eyes met the watch half-tucked under his sleeve, “Thirty minutes?” You hummed, pulling your laptop from the bottom of the overfilled and cluttered box of things you'd brought with you, “I’ll have it done.”

Tenna stared at you like you had slapped him, “ Who do you think you are? ” Your skin crawled again, his voice was laced with a static sound that made him appear more threatening.

You thought wisely about your next words, an idea fluttering into your mind, the old school radio charm worming into your tone as you batted your eyelashes at him, “I’m y/n, thirty minutes, that's all i’m asking. Please?”  

That breathy hitch in your tone melted away the threatening exterior of the tv star, and like the magic you knew it was, he simply stormed away with a grumble, leaving you with time to work on the report that you literally JUST found out about..

“Fuck that’s harder to do than I remembered” You whispered to yourself, pressing a hand to your throat as it squeezed up. Maybe your spells were a little out of practice..

Chapter Text

The first day on the production floor was a bit rough; there was no denying that. You had a close encounter with the ‘queen’ Tenna. The spoiled brat of the office, who always got what he wanted!.. He was also your boss. 

You had managed to slick him off your back using the same charm that had made you a radio star. 

Every darkner, big or small, had some kind of magic that was part of their very SOUL. Yours just so happened to be persuasive magic, the kind that oozed out of your throat like it was natural… Even if it was a physical challenge to you now. 

All that time ago it really was natural. It was what made you so good at your job, but now you'd been so long without a real performance, it didn't come to you like oxygen anymore. It felt wrong, like you had to force it out. Two years ago, you would have been horrified by that idea. 

Every day since was more of the same, doing enough paperwork in a day to make a normal person crack under pressure in a week. On top of that, you were running his stupid coffees all day, ”Intern! Do this! Intern, Do that!” It was maddening. You didn't even think that he knew your name, despite you reiterating it to him.

Hell, if you were paid a dollar every time you gently reminded him you weren't an intern, you wouldn’t even need this job anymore.

The days had ebbed and flowed past you, and nothing much had changed, but the exhaustion was racking up like a loan you’d yet to pay back, and the bank was absolutely fixing to foreclose on your consciousness. 

Right now you were sitting at your desk, fourth cup of coffee in your hand, when a voice screamed from down the hall. 

“ Intern! ” 

Fucking great, yeah, this is exactly what you needed right now. Tenna mid melt down!

“Yes, sir?” You called, holding back the biting agitation in your chest.

“I need another extra! Either find someone to fill it or fill the position yourself in ten minutes! Or so help me, I will give your position to a pippins!” He barked the order like all his attention was on you, but his nose was buried furiously in a clipboard of god-knows-what. 

Fill the position.. Yourself? Hell, that didn’t really sound bad, but anything sounded better than sitting in this stupid desk chair right now. Your lower back ached and thrummed with the pressure of late nights and days excessive overtime. 

“Whats the position?” You spoke up, still searching for even a glance in your direction on his face… nothing. 

“Its nothing special, it’s just to be a barmaid in the western set… God are you even gonna start moving?” That passive-aggressive static seeped into his voice, like when your tv was struggling to get a good connection to the channel itself. 

You licked the front of your teeth, sucking in a deep breath before standing from your desk and checking your reflection in your laptop screen… okay maybe you looked a little as if  you'd just been run over by like, fifty cars. Nothing a little concealer and an outfit change couldn’t improve! 

Fixing it was definitely out of the question though. 

“I can do it, where are we-”

A hand grabbed firmly around your wrist, and little shocks pricked your skin as the electricity that coursed through his body made contact with yours. It tickled more than anything, really, you were more offended by the fact he had started dragging you so suddenly.

“Wonderful! Positively exciting my dear,” A rouge dusted your cheeks, “lets get you down to the dressing rooms, I’m sure we could find something that fits you”

Okay, just what the fuck was that supposed to mean? 

Yeah, you were.. A bigger darkner, but Jesus did he have to say it like that?  

A pit twirled in your stomach, and the air between you two seemed to grow stale, and he noticed. 

“Oh, OH- No! No not like that I-” a pink hue spread across his screen, right above his nose, and he loosened his grip on your wrist. 

So he was capable of empathy, shocking. 

He didn't say another word to you after that. He just dropped you by the costuming department and scurried off, that pink colour burned into his screen until he was out of sight. 

“Right..” you sighed, turning your attention to the people who now swarmed at your feet, different kinds of fabrics and makeup clutched in their hands. “Kneel down! Come closer! Stop moving!” Their voices all overlapped as you got down on their level, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the dressing room floor. 

By the end, you looked close to presentable in your book! 

They had practically erased the wrinkles and dark circles under your eyes, and they shoved you in a pretty awesome western style outfit. 

Sure, it was unbelievably hot, and it had too many layers to be comfortable for daily wear, but pretty nonetheless! Definitely fit the true barmaid stereotype, just, family friendly!

“We’re live in one minute!” An intercom buzzed in the room and you damn near jumped out of your skin. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t immune to pre-show jitters anymore, yikes .

“Come on! Get out there! Places! Go go go!” The crew was now pushing at your body, shoving you from the dressing room and forcing you to your place on set. Suddenly your mind was swarming, maybe this was a bad idea.

A face made for radio! That's what you heard your entire existence, a not so pretty face encompassed by a voice like silk. You could talk just about anyone into doing what you wanted! But you didn’t have the looks to quite convince the shallowest of the few, the few that practically thrived in the television business. 

‘ Oh god, what was I thinking, they’re going to laugh at me. This is bad, this is-’ a soft, and oddly accented (?) voice cut off your panicked internal dialogue, “Donte worryeth too much, thou isth going to doeth great!”

.

.

. 

Okay, so maybe you really were losing it.

You swore that flat-assed lamp was talking to you.

“Five! Four! Three!” The last two numbers were mouthed out by a voice you couldn’t quite see, and the lights flipped off in the audience and brightened on stage.

Tenna took the spotlight, just like you’d assumed he would, but you had never seen him from this perspective.

Sure, you watched tv-time when you had time to spare, it was literally your job, but seeing him work live.. It was totally different. 

He was magnetic. It was hard to divert your attention from him and be a decent extra. 

His voice was soothing, commanding, and yet so charming. Was this how people felt when you spoke to them over the radio? No, his presence alone was flustering like this, that smile, that posture, and put-together facade. 

You knew instantly this was what separated the lesser performers from the big leagues. He was confident and dripped with self-respect, but you gave it all up to avoid perverts and negative attention. 

“Cut to commercial!” A voice called from offstage after what felt like eons, and the facade stumbled. 

“Can someone get me some water? I’m dying of thirst over here,” A whine from the gameshow host had the sideline crew in shambles, like it was their first day all over again. 

“You! Intern!” A gloved finger pointed to you, “How is my posture? Are the contestants enjoying the games? Damn it all, what are the ratings like?”

All that adoration you’d just felt? Soured, instantly, like something rotten in your core.

“Your posture is.. Fine. ” It wasn't enough to get you fired, but the vagueness of your tone was enough to put him more on edge. Fuel for the fire.

“And the ratings are fine im sure, I can handle that report when this is over-”

“You think I actually read those? ” He snickered, a sick grin twisting his face.

Prick. 

Your brows knitted together and you swallowed the retort that you’d thought of, letting it die before it could even be spoken. ‘What is this guy's problem?’ You thought to yourself as you watched what looked to be his personal assistants scurrying over and tending to his every need. 

He drank his water out of a tv-time branded mug, from a red starshaped straw, and all the while some poor schmuck was shining the leather of his shoes and fixing the way his slacks fell at his ankles..  What a horrific job. 

The commercial break came and went, and soon enough so did the episode as a whole. You had returned your costume to hair and makeup and had a few laughs about some of the stupid things the extras had been joking about in the background while Tenna raved on and on.

Despite your initial anxiety.. It wasn’t a bad day.

You’d returned to your desk and were flipping through what felt like pages of missed emails before you landed on one, “ Important, please read!! ” 

Click

“ Intern! ” It read, your eyes immediately rolled out of instinct, 

“ I need this financial report revised and completely reworked by Monday! You will be rewarded handsomely for your cooperation in this task!

Thank you, 

Mr. (Ant) Tenna ” 

You clicked on the report and you felt your heart stop, was he serious? Was this some kind of cruel joke? All of this by Monday? 

Your eye twitched and you suddenly found yourself wondering ‘what kind of sentence wouldI get if I just killed this guy?’ A long one, probably, too long to justify the act. So you just sighed and let your head hang for what felt like an eternity. 

Part of you wondered if there were more sides of him than just the office douche-bag and the electrifying tv-star, not that you really cared. But still the question rang heavy. 

For now, your focus revolved around your job once more, papers had stacked high enough to tickle the ceiling in your few hour absence, and with the report now in your hands? You had plenty of overtime breathing down your neck, but overtime meant compensation pay, and compensation pay meant a reckless night out! 

You know, if you didn’t drop dead before you actually got a day off. 

‘ Sigh ’ 

No, your reckless days were long since over. 

To you an exciting night was sitting on your couch with a glass of cheap box wine in your hand and a terrible rom-com playing on your box set. 

You may not have had romance in your life, nor did you understand it, but you enjoyed laughing at it. 

And if you got drunk enough, the headache you’d sport the next day would be practically identical to the ones you’d earned bar hopping! 

Your life now persisted in an incessant amount of ‘ sucking it up ’ in the name of work ethic. Today was no different. 

“Goodnight Y/n” One of your coworkers called out to you as they walked out to the elevator, and it grabbed your attention like a vice. 

Shit, was it really that late? 

Maybe you would be better off calling it quits now and clocking your overtime tomorrow. 

No point working in the dark of an empty building if the time card system automatically refreshed at midnight. 

“Hold the elevator please!” You called out, your throat vibrating with an enchantment as you hurriedly stuffed everything away into your laptop bag. 

Seeing just how dark it was from the windows really smacked you with exhaustion. 

What was the expression again? Overworked and underfu-!

“How sweet of you to hold the elevator for me, intern.”

Fuck.  

Chapter Text

You didn't dare to look up at first, you just knew that shit-eating grin was going to be staring right at you. 

And hey, maybe if you didn’t respond, he’d catch a hint about learning your name. ‘ I mean Jesus, it’s literally in my company email, you know, the one you’ve been forwarding all those files to.’ But you bit your tongue, and the words stung like acid pressed between your lips. 

“Helloooo? Earth to intern? Is this thing on?” That staticky voice again, this time accompanied by a demanding tap of his finger on your head. 

“I have a name, Mr. Tenna.” The words fumbled out before you could catch them, and his body visibly stiffened in your peripheral.

Your poor coworker was standing in the elevator, now shivering from the expression you still didn’t want to look at. 

“Oh? Well how was I supposed to know? No one corrected me!” The retort was sickeningly innocent, or at least pretending to be. 

Your back molars ground on each other, hard. You knew he was egging you on, trying to rile you up on purpose, and on any other day? You wouldn’t pay him any mind!

But right now, you were exhausted, sleepless nights were clawing at your limbs and making them feel heavy, and this asshole was trying to gauge you into a game of cat and mouse. 

The air hissed between your teeth as you finally looked up at him and-

Holyshitwhyisheleaninginsoclose????

His nose was nearly pressed against your scalp as he sneered down at you, and you could feel the electrical buzz coming from his screen

The quip that was going to jeopardize your whole career seemed to blank from your mind, thank god for that too, “ Y/n ” You breathed it out like you had forgotten it. 

You couldn’t tell what it was, but something in the air shifted, and the tension between you fizzled out as quickly as it bubbled up. 

“Y/n” He repeated back at you, his brows knitted together tightly as if he was trying to wish away the fact he had just ruined the game. 

You didn’t know how long you two were just gawking at each other like a pair of idiots, you only came back to reality when your coworker cleared her throat with a mousy squeak. 

“U-uhm- Going up or down?”

Shit. 

“Fuck- uh- sorry sweetheart, down, please” You apologized to the poor girl as your attention snapped back to her shivering frame in the elevator. 

“Up” Your boss finally piped up, and in one short stride had taken up an agitating amount of the elevator space, and an uncomfortable amount of your space.

‘Wait, up? Does he live here or something?’ 

He pulled some weird ID card from his pocket and you stared a little too hard… But yeah, he definitely had a penthouse up there. 

‘PROPERTY OF ANT TENNA AND SP–––’  The rest of the second name was cut off – or out – And Tenna’s fingers curled around the card, shifting the rest of the print out of view. 

Touchy subject then. 

Maybe some poor, miserable ex girlfriend?

No. 

Even if he was a dick, to call his capabilities as a lover into question was a professional line you had no business crossing. Even mentally. 

The elevator scooped before it began its descent, and your heart jumped. You hated the elevator, you had no particular reason to. No traumatic events, no bad experiences, you just hated the thing. 

When you worked in post production, your office was on the third floor. And yeah, three flights of stairs sucked, but they weren’t as uncomfortable as this death trap waiting to happen. 

And in the stairs there was no way to get trapped with your boss after a mouthy retort. 

But, the ride was silent all the way down. Awkward, but silent. 

Your coworker was quick to shoot off the elevator as soon as the doors opened into the bottom lobby, the room had an eerie kind of quiet compared to the hustle and bustle of the production floor lobby, but right now you welcomed anything other than the silence between you and Tenna. 

“Goodnight.” An almost unrecognizable voice whispered beside you, but you didn't bother to look at him and return the casualty. 

He had been a pain in your ass all week, you got at least one free pass right? 

You gave him a half-assed wave over your shoulder and just kept walking. ‘Don’t give him ammunition to lord over you later’ You scolded yourself, and in your defense, you stuck to it!

Kinda. 

You waited until you had heard the doors shut, and your curiosity got the best of you. 

The elevator gained a steady speed as it ascended the building, its light the only illumination in the dark office, and eventually came to a halt on the top floor. 

The penthouse. 

“Fuckin knew it.” You whispered the small victory to your huge audience of… Well, you, and pressed on towards the parking lot. 

Cheap box wine and literally any romcom, here you came. 

The next day at the office was, as you expected, weird. At least between you and Tenna. 

Your workload had decreased for a reason you couldn’t explain, not that you minded, but the whole office was quiet.

No screaming drama queen losing his marbles over the slightest inconvenience, and it should have been nice! 

But it wasn’t, everyone was on the edge of their seats, biting their nails in a panic. And after last night, you wondered if it had to do with that.. Thing?… that shifted between you. 

No. No it was just a weird day, there was nothing special about it, and it certainly didn’t involve you. 

You let out a sigh as you stared at your now cleared desk, you’d finished all of your paperwork for the day in record time. YAY!

But that left you with two things to do, that stupid report you had to rework, or think about your interaction with the TV star. 

Yeah, report it is. 

“Y/n”

….

Or not.

You glanced up from where your nose had been buried in your computer, catching the gaze of the aforementioned star. Eugh… “Yes, sir?”

“You didn’t tell me you were a radio host” He stated flatly

“It's in my employee file, sir. Didn’t you read it when you promoted me?” The remark came off mouthier than you’d intended it to, but he didn't budge. 

“No.”

Yeah that tracked. “I was, yes, what's your point?” You finally withdrew from the hostility, leaning back in your desk chair. 

“Why did you stop?”

The question hit you right where you weren’t guarded, you were expecting something less – Genuine sounding? No, more like invasive. 

“I just.. Lost the passion for it, you know? Wasn't working for me anymore.” Not the full truth, but not really a lie. ‘ I mean, is he expecting me to tell him I was scared of being killed by a stalker or?...’ 

He stood silently in front of you for an uncomfortable amount of time, fingers fidgeting and body twitching like he was trying to update his whole system over your answer. 

Then, without a word, he just walked away.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, watching as he retreated into his office and slammed the door behind him. 

That was weird. 

But after that he didn’t seem to be hellbent on bothering you, you faded back into the background of his world like always and it started to feel normal in the office again. 

Now with your work done, report and all, you felt like you were staring into your reflection for too long. So long your face started to warp and every feature started to look more like an imperfection than a part of you. 

“That's enough of that for a day” Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth and you shut your laptop down for the day. Maybe you could take off early! Would anyone really notice?

Probably.

You had earned the title of office fixer-upper. Terrible name, but it stuck to you like glue. 

You didn’t comprehend how this place functioned before you, was it just always in chaos and hellish flames? How has this company not toppled yet?

You’d soothed more interns from panic attacks than you had fingers to count on, and you weren’t one hundred percent on the ethicality of them… Did it count as calming them if you were using magic to force the emotion on to them?

But more than that, you’d taken on other people's paperwork so they could go home to their families! It was why you had accrued so much overtime, sentimentality was a killer.

You could always watch the live show, maybe that would distract you from the thought of your reflection. Then again, did you really wanna be around Tenna that long? 

“Oh, it's hopeless." You puffed, resting your head on your arms and truly starting to debate your options. “Maybe I should..” Then a light turned on in your head, what about visiting post production? Hang out with some old friends for an hour or two and wait for your mandatory hours to end. 

No Tenna, no paperwork, just you and your buddies in some cramped green room adding cheesy special effects and fixing jokes that fell flat on air to sound like they were met with uproarious laughter for a later rerun. 

Yeah, that was perfect. 

A smile curled your lips up and you slung your purse over your shoulder like it weighed nothing and bolted for the elevator, how could this go wrong?

Chapter Text

You stepped out of the elevator with a knot turning in the depths of your stomach

Okay so you still hated the elevator, you were literally shivering in the corner, white knuckling as you nearly ripped the railing out of the wall. “Fuckin- piece of shit stupid-”

You froze in your tracks after cursing out the elevator, “ What the fuck? ” Your heart dropped to your feet and your pulse quickened.

Your old desk, the one from only a few weeks ago, was towering with papers. More specifically, pink envelopes. 

“ No ” You stepped closer to the pile, your fingers reaching out to touch them even as bile threatened to slip up your throat..

Your hand hovered over one of the envelopes, a tremble in your every movement as you swiped it up suddenly and stared at it. You read the name on it over and over again, but your brain was refusing to process any of the lettering. 

“Focus, Jesus just focus!” you snapped at yourself as the lettering finally started to resemble something that made sense. “Y/n. Employee number- oh my god ”

Your panic died as soon as it had grown and you threw the letter down with a frustrated groan, “HA HA, you guys are so funny!” you turned to the stifled giggles of your old friends, who once being found out, doubled over in hysterical laughter.

There was a time once where you had a particularly avid stalker, one that you had been trying to shake off your trail for years, and they found out where you worked. The letters they sent were more than just kinda graphic fanmail, they were threats. 

Diagrams of some kind of ways they wanted to… use you. Jesus the memory alone was horrifying. The final one they had sent was a picture of you, walking out of the radio shack from what had to be years old even at that time. 

They never approached or made any bolder moves, but it was enough that it put you on your toes. Every creepy letter came in the most disgusting shade of pink envelopes, and they reeked of sweat and a really heavy cologne you couldn’t quite place. 

You never found out who they were, that was the scariest part, the letters had just kind of.. Stopped one day. As if they had moved on. Yet the fear lingered in your mind. 

“Sorry, sorry Y/n. We figured you’d come back eventually, the initial plan was only one but uh.. Everyone wanted to write one . They’re harmless, promise.” 

“Mhm…” Your tone was shaky and uncertain as you dragged a nail along the seam of the envelope, opening it carefully to examine the letter inside. Maybe they didn’t remember the terror like you did, or how much it had rocked you to get the letters you did.

Sick joke, well meant, but sick. 

The letters held within the pink paper only slightly made up for the heart attack they had caused, many bittersweet congratulations and good-byes that made your eyes prick with tears if you spent too long looking at them.

You’d come down here to have some time with your friends, but you spent most of your time reading letter after letter, the ones you found especially thoughtful you tucked away in your bra after folding them impossibly tight. ‘I’ll hang them up in my apartment’ You told yourself, but you weren’t certain on how much you wanted to wake up to that shade of paper everyday. 

“How has post production been without me?” You questioned after a silence that drew out way too long, it didn’t feel like that before, maybe production floor chaos was changing you. 

“Boring, no one to make funny jokes or make us feel better anymore. We really do miss you.”

“Mmh… Sorry, but that promotion was too good” You laughed, ‘minus that fucking elevator-’ “But it looks like ya’ll have been operating just fine! The late night reruns are still the same quality, who knew you could do it without me”

“Well it certainly was an adjustment” The pippins you'd come to know as Pawn smirked and came beside you, nudging your leg slightly. “Come sit in the breakroom? You gotta tell me all about it. About him-!”

“Eugh” 

“Oh? Telling! Come, sit please!” 

“Pawn, he's a nightmare, a diva queen with no regard for personal space and a bad attitude.” You hid your head in your hands as you plopped onto the breakroom couch, the cushion quietly squeaking and settling into the position you had long since established as your favorite. 

“Yeah hun? Tell me how you really feel” A laugh came from them

“And he’s so- SO- ” Magnetic? Alluring? Absolutely captivating in every way that made your heart just stop? “Pretentious! He thinks he’s god or something!”

Because he kind of was. If he wanted something, all he had to say was its name and it would just appear in his hand! People worshipped him, bowed at his feet, and if he demanded it you were sure at least one crazy person would kill for him. 

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad luv. Plus think of the upsides! You’re in the big leagues now, I saw you in yesterday's episode, I'm sure you’ll be a big shot in no time!” Pawn beamed at the prospect of you in front of a camera, of you rising back into fame.

You hated it. Hated the idea of having eyes on you, your every curve and flaw being exposed as you went big again. Radio was one thing, semi anonymous, no face to add to the name.  TV? Everyone would be able to see you for what you were, and the nastiest of people would come crawling out of their holes again.

Your thoughts shifted back to those pink envelopes and what they withheld.. 

“ No. ” The word fumbled out of you before you knew it, and it sounded much more panicked than you would have liked. “I mean- ugh.. No, that’s not what I want for myself. I just want to do my desk job and get paid the big bucks like I think I deserve.” 

Pawn was quick to turn their head, poorly hiding their disappointment from your answer, “Yeah.. Yeah I get it, sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

The silence that hung between you two was sickening, words left unsaid and feelings left invalidated, but what else was there to do? Argue? 

“Well uh..” You cleared your throat and shifted on the couch, not even the comfort of your favorite spot was enough to make you want to stay anymore. “I think I’m gonna go home, I actually finished my work for once so..” You clicked your tongue on the roof of your mouth and stood up, with no protest from Pawn, “It was good to see you Pawn. We should catch up over drinks sometime soon”

You gave them no time to answer before you scurried off, like a roach hiding from the light, and headed for the stairwell. 

You opened the door labeled ‘Level 3’ and stepped inside without hesitation. The smell of must and old air hit you like a brick, and for some reason, it was the most comforting thing you had experienced all week. “Ah…” You sighed out, letting your eyes shift around the landing. No change, no sudden shocks, just the smell of possible mold and familiarity. 

You descended to the second floor landing before you sat yourself on the top step and stared down to the first floor exit. Would it be so wrong to just sit here for a while? Bask in the comfort of the silence for just a minute longer.  

A door several floors above you swung open with a loud crash, and a sense of exasperation washed over you. Just a minute, seriously, was it too much to ask for?

A frustrated sigh left your lips and you looked up the stairwell, maybe it was someone you knew.

Of course it was. 

Tenna leaned over the railing with his head resting in one hand, and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. He looked exasperated, like he was contemplating all of the decisions he had ever made in his life.

His brows were tightly knit and his antennae were stuck straight, like he was working out some impossible problem. He was almost more handsome like this than on the show, this was real, his expressions weren’t calculated or made for an audience. His frustration dripped off him, and he looked like someone entirely different. 

‘I didn’t peg him for a smoker’ You mused to yourself, watching his every movement. It felt so wrong to be so fascinated with him like this, but at the same time it felt so right. Like seeing into him in a way very few people got to, this was another side of Tenna. You know, the kind you sat and wondered about. He was always so perfect, is this what it looked like when he broke?

His voice broke the silence you’d been embracing, but his gaze never flickered away from the wall he’d been staring at “Staring is rude” 

Shit, were you supposed to say something back? Say sorry? But if you did, would you get in trouble for not being at your desk? You settled on something in between an apology and an acknowledgement of his existence, a soft ‘hm’ came from your throat and you looked to your feet. 

There was a change in the air, just like last night, even though you were floors apart. “You never saw me.” The statement was more demanding than requesting, and he took a long drag of his cigarette before stomping it out under his shoe. 

You just hummed in response again and that was good enough confirmation for him since he turned on his heel and stepped back onto the production floor. Maybe he knew it was you, from that telltale shift in the air, maybe he just didn’t care. 

You shrugged it off, not really your business, but it was a curious interaction nonetheless. 

You stayed in that stairwell until you heard everyone start to leave, and you yourself were close to follow. Yeah, the day was awkward and didn’t go like you planned, but not a terrible day at least!

The day following, you showed up to work early to find your desk had been moved, worse, moved somewhere you weren’t disclosed. 

“The office across from mine.” A familiar voice made you almost jump out of your skin as you spun on your heels to face him. 

The air shifted again. 

“ What?”  

“Well after learning of your capabilities through your employee file and some testimonies, I thought it best to move you from working as a paper pusher.” He spoke flatly, his usual alter ego was nowhere to be found. It was both alluring and incredibly alarming. 

“I’m sorry? I don’t understand” You sputtered out, a hand grabbing at the collar of your shirt, suddenly your clothes felt way too tight. 

“Your voice, the whole magic thing, such a talent would go to waste where you are. So I’ve made a position available for you. You’ll answer my phone calls, schedule my meetings, and smooth over my appearance with the press when I ask you to.” 

He spoke as if it was some mundane task, like he hadn’t just uprooted your whole plan to stay out of sight from the public. 

“I-” He cut you off with a flick of his wrist, “Please, no need to thank me. Your new office is this way-”

Bile crept up your throat and you nearly vomited right then, “No”

He froze, it was his turn to be confused. “No?”

“No I- I don’t want to be in the public again.” You confessed to him like it was a sin, like he was going to scorn you for it. 

“Hm, well it’ll be hard to work around. But you don’t need to make a physical appearance. That power of yours worked over the radio, will it work over a phone speaker?” He spoke about the whole thing like your objection didn’t matter, like you had no choice. 

Cause, well, you kind of didn’t. Do what he asked or lose the job. Those were your options. 

“ No public appearances, no photos, no names.” You watched his body stiffen as a familiar enchantment rang between you. 

“ Now that’s what I’m talking about” He breathed, a shiver visibly going up his spine and a grin twisting his features. “Just do that, whenever I ask, you’re going to be big around here”

His words were laced with something you couldn’t decipher, nor did you really want to, and he led you away to your new office. 

Office? No, more like a used old closet. It had enough space for your desk, chair, and an oddly placed futon, but it wasn’t really an office. 

You toyed with the lightswitch to no avail, “Oh yeah, that’ll need replaced” He piped up, his grin never faltering. 

“Okay.. So.. What do I do if there’s no phone calls or meetings?”

“You’ll be our in-office help. Cheaper than hiring an office psychiatrist. Plus who needs meds when someone like you can help them?” The way he spoke was sick, like he was using you as some.. pawn. 

“Jeez- learn to take a joke,” Your shoulders relaxed a bit, you didn’t even know they were tense, call that a joke that fell flat. “You’ll handle some paperwork, mainly the expense billing. You’ll be like my personal assistant.”

Oh!

Yuck! 

“Okay” You nodded, despite your reservations about your new title. And then, the phone rang on your desk and you heard a satisfied chuff from beside you. 

“Better get to work then, Y/n”

And in a few short strides he was locked in his office, probably prepping himself in the mirror for the day, and you were left scrambling to grab the phone. 

“Mr. Ant Tenna’s office, scheduling department, how can I-?” The sounds on the other end of the line were something you wished you could erase from your memory instantly. Breathless sighs and unwelcomely wet shlups that made your skin crawl, ‘Okay, back in pervert business.’  You noted as you slammed the phone down on its receiver. 

Was the pay even worth this kind of.. Nastiness? You rushed over to the main machine and looked at your position wages before you dared to clock in. 

“Oh my god-” More than worth it. He wasn’t just paying you for your ability to do your job anymore. You were an asset, someone with a skill he thought he needed, and it was showing. 

‘What’s a few weirdos? Nothing I haven’t seen before’ The greedy little goblin that lived in your brain spoke louder than any of the other voices who might’ve tried convincing you otherwise. “Another day, a new adventure” You chimed as you clocked in for the day and slipped back into your office, flipping open your computer and diving into your work. A world of charts and spreadsheets you’d only briefly seen, and new ones you didn’t even know existed, awaited your attention. But hey, the money made a difference. 

Chapter Text

“Thank you for your time, Mr Tenna will see you on December 14th at 5 PM, I’ll be sure to add it to his calendar. Mhm, buh-bye.” The phone calls were far more relentless than you’d initially expected. How was he handling them before? 

The perverts died down in their incessantness after a few hours; you hadn't heard a single moan after 10 AM. Good to know they had a weirdly specific schedule. 

Lunch time had rolled around after what felt like an eternity of repetitive motions, and a ringing that was destined to haunt your nightmares, and you thought you might have a few moments to yourself to eat.

A quiet, shockingly considerate knock drummed against your office door, and you called to them, “Come in!”

“Oh, good, didn’t want to interrupt you on the phone.” Tenna leaned into the doorframe, letting the door swing open and yet never crossing the threshold. “Will you go pick up my lunch from the deli next door? It’s already paid for and ready by now.”

You stared at him, face deadpanned and brows furrowed. ‘Seriously? Dude, I’m literally fixing to grab my lunch.’

He seemed to enjoy the way you stared at him, the way you held in frustration, “Sure,” You spoke through gritted teeth, straightening up from your desk quickly enough that it betrayed your calm act. 

“Wonderful! You’re such a smart girl.” He turned on his heels and stepped out of your office before you could fully render the words out of his mouth. And the effect they had on you.

“I-” Your cheeks flushed with warmth, and you stared at the woodgrain on the room door. Did that really just happen?

You very frustratedly tried to force the thought, and the lingering gasp caught in your throat, back down to the pit of hell from whence they came. 

“Prick.” You murmured to yourself, but your words lacked all conviction, and set off to the deli to grab the queen his lunch. 

It really wasn’t far, literally the building next door, you had to bicker a little with the girl at the register, who simply refused to believe you were Tenna’s glorified secretary until you showed her your employee ID. Her expression was pitiful more than anything. Okay, how many secretaries does this guy go through for her to look this sad for you? 

You were walking back into the office when you were socked in the throat by the telltale start of a tantrum, you could feel the electricity in the air the second the elevator door opened. 

Your nerves felt like they lit up instantly, the hair on your arms standing straight. What did they tell him to make the current in the floor this strong? 

“God dammit, Mike, I said no! It won't work!” Tenna squealed from his office, yeah, definitely a tantrum. 

You anxiously peered in the door. You could hear the fans in his head whirring furiously and steam pumped from his vents. He was livid. 

“Tenna, Tenna boy, ya gotta listen ta’ me. This isn't a request. This is a demand from tha network!” Mike, the little man behind the scenes. Normally, he was the one handling Tenna's outbursts, not causing them. And if he kept it up, the TV star was going to either explode or cause a blackout in the building's electricity. 

“Mike,” You hummed softly, putting a hand on his shoulder; he hadn't even noticed you'd walked in. “Take a break, go have some lunch, you can come back to this. A thrum of soft static cut through the electricity in the air. 

Mike looked at you like you'd just called him some horrible name, but who could resist that charm? He didn't say much, ripping his shoulder from your grasp and storming out. But still, he left. 

“Okay.. Here's your lu-”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” There was a snap in between Tenna’s words, the audio starting to garble. 

“I just- you looked like you were going to blow a circuit.” You narrowed your eyes on the star; he was still fuming. Maybe even more so now. 

“You don't get to come into my office and use your cheap tricks; you have no authority here.” 

“Tenna, I didn't mean to offend- Why don't you just-”

A crack in the air, a loud pop, and your skin ignited instantly, “Shut up! Don't use those fucking tricks on me!” 

What the hell was his problem? 

“Just because you can manipulate people doesn't make you special, and it doesn't give you any ounce of importance in this company! You're still an outdated, obsolete burnout! You're a tool, and a hindrance.”

You stared at him, a pang in your chest made you truly acknowledge what he had said. The way it made your whole body shake. 

You tossed the sandwich onto his desk, and the sound of the wrapper crumpling on the wood was the only sound between you. “Good luck on the air.” You nodded to him and stepped out to your office. 

A hindrance. 

Nothing more than an inconvenience to the people around you. 

That didn’t hurt nearly as much as being called a manipulator, partially because it was true. You never meant to use people. It just happened, and you liked it. God, maybe that made you sick; ‘Maybe I’m a bad person.’ 

You couldn’t focus, not after that. No matter what you tried, walking around the room just made the space feel claustrophobic, and sitting down just made you itch to be up and moving again. Your reflection in your computer screen caught you off guard on multiple occasions, like someone you didn’t even know was staring right through you.

You fumbled over phone calls like an idiot, the words never came out quite right, and the job you thought was worth the pay was now only pushing you further and further into your own insanity. 

“Manipulator.” The word rolled off his tongue like he didn’t even have to think about it, like it was some natural given testament from God himself. Acid pooled in the corners of your eyes, and you could feel your heart thrumming against your ribcage as you lingered on the word a little too long. He had shaken you down to your soul, the devil had planted his roots in you, and you could feel him infesting you through your very veins. 

The time for you to leave came painfully slow, and you still couldn’t push yourself to get out of your chair. You had sticky notes galore scattered across your desk, appointments with the queen bee that you’d been too busy tripping over yourself to mark in the calendar, and new files that your coworkers begged you to do for them over email. “Fuck me.” You choked out the words like they had been caught up in your throat. 

“Come in early tomorrow and start from here,” You looked at the notes scattered everywhere once more. There was a hopelessness in your chest you couldn’t quite shake, that sense of impending doom. “And try not to think about it… God, why can’t I stop thinking about it?”

You slumped forward on your desk and rested your face in the crook of your hands; they reeked of sweat and stress. “What do I do?” You pondered all the ways you could be spending your evening instead. ‘Ramb owns the bar in the S-Rank room,’ a little voice piped up on the back of your head, and honestly? It made a good point. 

You looked at the clock, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t….’ You caught your reflection in your laptop screen again.

Manipulator

“I wonder if he's got Malibu!” You spoke, a slight hiss between your teeth as your sudden movements caused your chair to squeal against the floor. You didn't even think that was possible in a rolling chair.

You packed up and slung your bag over your shoulder before making your way to the bar. After-hours was for employees, especially on weekends. You had heard stories of late-night Friday parties at the bar.

And yet somehow, you always managed to be here longer than anyone else. 

Perhaps because he closed every day, except Friday, at 8.

Still, that was impressive

You walked into the S-rank hallway, you hadn't even gotten to the bar yet, and the smell of cigarettes and booze hit you like a train. 

You opened the bar door, and the smell only intensified, and the stinging of fresh smoke burnt your eyes. Since when did this become such a common smoking bar?

You nervously approached the bar. On the opposite end, you could see Mike halfway through a neat whiskey. 

“What can I get you, luv?” Ramb spoke up from behind the counter, and you nearly leapt out of your skin. When did he get there?

“Uh- uhm-” A bottle of Malibu. “A glass of pinot grigio, please.” You offered Ramb a smile and watched as he turned on his heels to grab your glass of wine. 

You were never one to vocalise your thoughts. Old habits die hard.

“Hey, thanks for what ya did back there,” Mike slithered over from the other side of the bar, “That’s a neat trick you got there.” 

Your face soured, and you just nodded at his observation.

“Okay, we’ll cut the games. I want you to be the announcer for TV time. Just a few lines a day, you can really get the audience’s attention, kid-”

“Sorry, no, I don’t do that kind of stuff anymore.” Ramb couldn’t get you your wine fast enough. “I’ve retired from that life, I don’t want to reappear and be swarmed.”

Mike looked at you with a furrowed brow, Seriously? “You don’t understand what you’re sayin-”

“I do, actually. Drop it.”

Mike’s expression wavered between anger and smug satisfaction, like he had proved some mental point.

“Here you are, luv,” Ramb spoke softly as he slid your glass over to you. An instant relief washed over you as you took it. 

You stared down at the dark liquid, and the reflection that stared back at you seemed like a distant memory, at least a step up from repulsive.

“If you change your mind, kid, call me…” The small man beside you slipped away, but not before putting a business card in your reach. ‘That’s staying here.’

Once the conversations slipped away, and the wine started to warm your blood, the time flew past you.

“Luv, I’m gonna start closing down, maybe I should call you a cab. I don’ think you should be walkin’ home alone.” 

“I’ll be ffffine-uh,” the barstool screeched when you stood, not that you cared, and the room began spinning at an alarming speed. ‘Hey, is my heart supposed to be this loud?’

You stumbled back and placed both palms on the bar top, “Oh fuck-”

“Y/n-” Ramb reached forward, and the room suddenly stalled, but your back lit up with a thrumming pain and- 

‘Huh. Has the ceiling always been that far away?’

“Ramb?” You looked at the light above you and squinted, “My back hurts.”