Loyalty (JoshxBrendonxTyler)

4. Reality

Brendon types away on his computer, pushing his glasses up every so often when they begin go fall.

Working at an office, in cubicles, will never be fun. His arms ache from being in the same position for too long and his eyes burn the longer he's looking at the screen. Brendon knows he should be used to this by now, having been doing this for months on end, yet he's not.

When his co-workers aren't shouting or laughing in the break room, all you hear is the obnoxious noise of fingers against keyboards.

It fills the entire floor.

Being at work makes Brendon a ticking time bomb, and he'd explode if he wasn't so reluctant.

He can hear the new employee beside him whispering to himself over and over again.

"Which allows them to. . . Which allows them to. . . Which allows them to. . ."

Brendon bounces his leg, pulling his hands away from his work and listening to the lingering tone. The man seems lost, not knowing what to write after which allows them to so Brendon stands, rolling chair making a strange noise while he did so.

He carefully turns the corner, seeing the dirty blonde nearly bent into his knees in frustration.

"Uh-mm, you okay?" He's so awkward.

Brendon can't remember his name but he turns around, tired eyes and steady lips.

They're just looking at one another, okay. Brendon's cheeks are quickly bursting into a heavy blush, gripping the cubicle wall.

The other man turns back to look at his computer. "I'm just lost, dude."

"What are you doing?"

"Sending a fucking email." He laughs bitterly, seemingly upset with himself for getting dismayed over something so simple. Brendon does it too often, and he's still on the road of remorse and forgiveness. It's a bit different in a work setting though, he understands what it's like to feel stuck on the smaller things you have to do.

"Need help?"

Reluctant at first, the blonde shrugs his shoulders with a nod.

Brendon gets closer, crouching to the desks level and seeing what has been written out. It's not too bad, looking professional enough for Boss to praise him for.

"Well, your layout is good." He mutters, then clearing his throat.

Voice is troubling for him. It always has been. He always wanted to express himself and he wanted to be the person he always desired but something always had a hold on him, and wouldn't let go. No matter how much pushing, he's completely given up, truly, and he's ashamed to admit that.

"I know that, I'm just stuck right here." The tone isn't harsh, only aggravated within itself.

Brendon watches him point to a part of the screen where he was struggling.

"If you're so stuck on what's to come, maybe change the sentence before so it can flow." That seems like the only choice without having an internal battle.

It's quiet between the two of them again, the new employee seems to use this silence to make sense of Brendon's words. Soon enough, he places his feet back down on the floor instead of having his knees tucked into his chest.

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. Okay." He scootches back into the desk and presses the delete button.

"Alright," Brendon stands.

"Thank you so much."

"Of course. . ." His cheeks are still hot, he feels bad.

"Lukas."