Bed Sheets

8. Lousy Author

He was taken off the newest project.

He was moved from the closest seat, across the entire floor near the elevator.

He once knocked to receive a drink from the mini fridge, and Draven did not even open the door to him, while told him to go away without even revealing himself.

It had been a week ever since he had changed, and Eric was unsure whether he had done something, or if it was a routine for new employees. The secretary continued to hand him piles of work on his desk, nothing related to editing, most of them to simply copy notes from a sheet into a document online. Not to mention, he oftentimes saw her enter Draven's office, and reappear with her hair in a mess, and fixing the buttons on her shirt, as well as descending her skirt.

He was always leaving the agency late, once being there until four a.m since he had to finish copying the notes that were given.

The next morning, he would return to work and a pile would already be on his desk. It came to the point that he did not care anymore.

Jason approached him, "What happened? He loved you and now he seems to hate you."

Eric shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea." He was filthy, his hair disheveled, his eyes were sunk in and dark circles gloomed his sockets. He was not even wearing a dress shirt, rather a simple black shirt since he had not the time to dress properly; he had gone to bed at five a.m and woken up at eight to be here by nine.

He was running on low fuel, and could, at any moment, fall asleep. The horrible treatment was not usual, and even Draven ignored him whenever he walked by.

Rebecca approached his desk as well, "He moved you to the shittiest desk in this place. You must've done something bad."

"Trust me guys," he whispered, "I didn't."

"Is it because of us?"

"I don't think so—"

"Eric."

They heard Draven's dark tone as he approached the desk, and Jason and Rebecca squirmed, paralyzed on the spot again. They watched as he marched towards them with a glare on his face, "You're talking instead of doing your work again?"

Eric frowned, "They came to me—"

"You've been behind this whole week, and you think you can come in here and talk to other co-workers?" he snarled.

He was confused, "They came up to me—"

"Yea it was us," Jason defended him, not wanting Eric to be in worst trouble.

Rebecca nodded her head, and flinched when he sharply turned to look at them.

However, soon Draven's eyes returned to Eric, "Go scrub the toilets. If you don't want to do your work, then might as well make yourself useful."

Eric gasped, "B-But I was doing my wo—"

"I said go scrub the toilets!" Draven shouted, gritting his teeth as he turned away, and stormed towards his office.

His work was taken from his desk by the secretary who glared at him, to which he did not understand, and Jason and Rebecca apologized quietly, returning to their seats.

Quietly, and with eyes following his every move, Eric headed to the toilets with the janitor equipment, and placed the out-of-order sign to keep people out. He was certain Miranda was smirking in her seat.

It had been rough the past week, but not this bad. The toilets were not filthy, but scrubbing them was still an annoying job he should not be doing as an editor. And he was so exhausted, that he simply sat on the ground to take a break for two minutes, which ended up with him being shaken awake an hour later.