"Face The Fear, Build The Future"

Day 8

(A/n)—

I have no excuses for the late updates. I'm disappointed in myself for the lack of effort I have put into trying to upload to this story. Only two chapters in a month? Disgusting.

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

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["What's really pitiful is people like you dying to the likes of me."]
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3rd POV

Dexter was known for many things by his "friends", superiors, and peers. Being a sarcastic, broody, and lazy slacker who was heavily sleep-deprived to the extent that he couldn't tell what day it was, is one of them. A hard-worker, let alone someone who could pull his own weight off the bed, was not something they would associate with the man named "Dexter".

But that was from their point of view.

An outsider's perspective.

If they took the time to actually ask or investigate for the reason for his behavior within the working environment, they would find that he was far from any of those descriptions. All things have a different side to them, whether it be of circumstances or simply how they are presented. Life isn't just black and white or right and wrong, there is always an in-between or explanation.

"Not everything is as it seems."

A phrase people tend to glance over when they live their lives without putting much thought into what is around them. It applies to everything that we consider a part of our life and more. It most definitely applies to this entire facility that seemed too good to be true, and yet Dexter still took the offer to work here. Money was money after all, even if you had to do some dirty work to earn it.

Which resulted in the situation now, for Dexter was far from the lazy and sarcastic slacker he was painted as by everyone. His desk was littered in paperwork and notebooks that were filled to the brim with notes and observations he's made from his time here. His countless and consecutive all-nighters trying to understand everything there was to know about working here was abysmal yet beneficial. The side effects of being sleep-deprived probably made him an insomniac with how much he struggled to sleep.

That probably explained the situation with him now.

At the moment of waking up, Dexter hissed as his back and neck ached along with his fingers and palm. The scattered papers on the desk he was sleeping on slipped to the floor as he stretched. The lamp that shined brightly on the wall had flash banged him the moment he opened his eyes, causing him to quickly divert his head away. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the lone light source, he noticed that he once again passed out mid-working.

"Oh fuck. Can't believe it happened again...." he muttered as he stood up, albeit reluctantly, leaving an imprint of his rear-end on the chair. "Stupid Vinera......stupid Bella.......stupid Sephirah..... stupid killing machines......stupid paperwork ......stupid money........"

Mumbling incoherent complaints about the workload and other things that made him have a headache, he made his way to the bathroom to freshen himself up. The cold water that he splashed onto his face did little to rejuvenate his lack of energy for the day. With half-lidded eyes, he untied his hair and let it flow naturally down his shoulders before undressing for a morning shower.