Oscorp SUCKS

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You hated your job, plain and simple. Nobody appreciated you, and hardly anyone knew your name. You worked at Oscorp, the business that practically ran New York City.

People around you would do science experiments and get to blow things up! People said it was the best job, and that you should be grateful.

But you werent.

You had the most boring job in the building. You worked in an office, typing things up on the computer. It was literally the worst job in the building. The only good thing was that you had an amazing view from your office.

Nothing but clear glass walls surrounded you in pure silence. The city poured in the windows as you sat high above all the rest. It was magnificent on a sunny day, and a rainy day. You could watch the lightning where nobody else could see it.

Now, you practically ran Oscorp, since Norman Oscorp, the owner, was gone. He was sick and dying quickly. You felt a little bad, since you were his assistant. It was sad to hear of anybody's passing, but Norman was a cruel man. He had a son, so you knew you would be working for him.

You just hoped he was nothing like Norman.

The sunlight poured into your office, early in the morning. You took in the bitter-sweet smell of your office, and sat down at your desk. You tapped the surface of the desk, bringing it to life with emails and messages. You put the news off to the side, letting the reporter speak quietly to you. You scrolled through the boring emails from complaining workers, whining about how awful their job was.

"News has come about this morning that Norman Oscorp passed away last night after a brief visit from his son, Harry Osborn. Harry Osborn is now the only person who can take over the Oscorp business," the newsman said, photos of the passed away Norman sliding across the screen, "Rumors are going around that Harry Osborn is on his way to New York now after nearly eleven years in boarding school."

You stared quietly at the screen, listening to the newsman speak about Norman's only son. A photo of the young Harry Osborn was shown, but you doubted that he still looked like a ten year old. You raked your fingers through your hair and sighed. By the end of the day tomorrow, you wouldnt be in charge anymore.

The office chair slid away from you as you stood up and walked out of the office, carrying a tablet under your arm and a phone in your hand, just in case anybody tried to contact you. You spread the news of Norman's death. Some didnt care, some cared quite a bit, and some seemed happy. As you went back to your office, your shoulder was roughly hit, causing you to stumble.

"Oh! Ma'am I am so sorry," a male's voice said. You turned with angry eyes, but softened once you saw who it was, "Max," you smiled, "Its alright, what are you up to?"

"Something important Miss, but I aint got nobody to help me," he said, "Y'see... Its...-" he started.

"I'd love to chat, but I have to head back to my office."

"Yes, yes of course ma'am. My apologies."

"Dont worry about it," you shrugged, adjusting your tablet under your arm.
Max huffed in annoyance and walked away. You felt bad, since nobody seemed to notice poor old Max. You wanted to talk to him, since he was such a hard worker, but so were you.

News circulated the building like a dark cloud that Harry Osborn was on his way to Oscorp as they spoke. You went back to your office, flopping back into your chair and rubbing your forehead. You really dreaded your job.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

"Ma'am?" A frail voice asked from outside of your office, only three hours after the news had spread of Norman's death. You waved her in and she opened the door, "Mister Oscorp is here."

"Thank you," you sighed, now waving her out. She nodded and shut the door. Time to go play meet and greet. You stood, straightening up your attire as you walked towards the door. There, standing at the other end of the floor, was a young man.

This young man was averagely tall, with golden-brown hair neatly combed. He had bright blue eyes like a sweet summers day, or a baby blue color painted on a young child's walls. He wore a suit that looked very expensive, like it had never been worn before. A charming smile lit his lips as you approached. Act happy!

You beamed as you outstretched a hand to him, "You must be Mister Osborn," you said, shaking his hand. He humbly place his hand against his chest, "Please, call me Harry."

"No, sir. I'll call you Mr.Osborn, because you are my boss," you insisted, not ready to go on a first name basis just yet, "My name is (y/n)(l/n). I am your assistant."

He nodded, "And where is your office?" Harry said as he released your hand. You turned and pointed to your glass office, "Down there at the very end of the floor," you said. Harry nodded again, "Very nice, I like it."

"Uhm... Thank you?"

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