I flipped through the yellowing pages, searching for traces of pure affection from a boy hidden in the mess of cramped handwriting.

Maybe it was the beauty of the beginning that makes it so unforgettable.

Back then, it was the carefree days of high school, before Mason James became the powerful figure he was now in the bustling city of Seattle.

He was just a guy struggling to get by, his pride constantly bruised. And during those tough times, there was a girl who appeared by his side, his only comfort when he was down. How could he not fall for her?

[May 17th, 2005. A new student joined our English class today. She’s a girl.]

[May 20th, 2005. The new girl’s name is Sydney Quinn. Nice name, but she’s kind of dumb. She got called out and had to stand for a whole period, blocking my view of the board.]

[June 13th, 2005. Sydney got punished again. I need to request a seat change!]

[June 21st, 2005. Seat change today. Sydney’s my new deskmate. Fine, at least she won’t block the board anymore.]

…

[October 4th, 2005. Someone’s birthday today. Gave her a present – barely. It’s one of those trendy hair clips. Hope she likes it. If she doesn’t, I’ll…]

[April 2nd, 2006. My parents got divorced.]

[April 12th, 2006. Is Sydney even listening in class? I’m juggling a part-time job and tutoring her. It’s annoying!]

[May 2nd, 2006. Exam results are out. Sydney came in third… from the bottom. At least she’s not dead last this time.]

[June 7th, 2006. Whose miserable birthday is it? Oh, right, it’s mine. Ugh. Sydney gave me a gift. So, she remembered!]

As I turned the pages, most of them were about Sydney Quinn, the bright, passionate girl who had stumbled into Mason’s life, bringing him countless precious memories.

There, in a time and place I hadn’t been, someone had already filled Mason’s heart. No matter how hard I tried, I’d always be second best to him.

I hurriedly flipped through the middle and went straight to the last page.

[April 3rd, 2011. She’s not coming back. This is the end.]

Their relationship had fizzled out. Sydney had left for abroad during college, and they never met again. Mason waited for her for four years, and that was it – no more.

Even I, an outsider, couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Mason must have been heartbroken.

I closed the notebook and placed it back where I found it, as if nothing had happened. After all, I was just a stand-in. Mason was my sponsor, my boss – there was nothing to fight for.

...

I worked at Mason’s company as a secretary. But don’t get the wrong idea – I didn’t get the job through connections. I got in fair and square.

Back then, fresh out of college, I had no clue how tough the real world was. I was full of dreams about making a difference, contributing to society, and being the model employee.

Now? Survival was the only thing on my mind.

Mason was just too strict. Every tiny mistake would have him chewing me out like I’d committed some grave offense.

Honestly, it didn’t take long for me to stop pretending. Let’s be real – being a secretary was just my side gig. My main income came from being someone’s “stand-in,” and that job brought in $20,000 a month.

What? You’re wondering how I found such a lucrative side hustle? Well, let’s just say that information comes with an extra fee.

At the time, I was 23, and after grinding it out for two years, I’d had enough. Honestly, I was ready to quit long before that. Staying at Mason’a company was basically just a cycle of getting yelled at. My blood pressure had never been higher.

During that period, I started questioning myself. My self-esteem took a nosedive, and more than once, I seriously considered throwing a stack of cash at Mason just to shut him up.

Finally, during one of Mason’s business trips, I saw my chance. I handed in my resignation at lightning speed, packed up my things, and bolted.

Even at home, I didn’t sit around. I immediately started job hunting online, and I struck gold fast – got an interview the next day, and before long, I was starting at a new company.

Turns out, I did have skills after all. I showed up to my first day feeling great. After all, every day I didn’t have to see Mason’s face was a good day.

But then I walked into the office… and guess who was sitting there? None other than Mason James himself. Jeez.

I was ready to turn right back around. You know what they say – karma’s real, and it comes fast.

I tried to make myself as small as possible, setting up my desk in silence, hoping the floor would just swallow me up.

But, of course, Mason caught my scent.

“Well, if it isn’t Riley Carter,” he said, strolling over.

“Mr. James, fancy seeing you here…” Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it.

There was a special kind of horror that came with running into your old boss at a new job.

“Relax, Carter,” Mason said with a smirk. “This company’s under my name too. Consider it a homecoming. Just keep working hard like always, alright?”

“Of course, Mr. James!”

I plastered on my most professional smile. When you’re a corporate worker, dignity doesn’t exist. You smile through it all.

New company, new colleagues, same old boss. Just my luck.

Mason definitely held a grudge. All I did was exercise my right to leave that pit of a job, but he wasn’t about to let me off easy. Instead, he doubled my workload.

I was suffering in silence, but I didn’t say a word. Instead, I mentally played out a movie about my petty boss being reincarnated as someone who lost his hearing and voice.

What a lovely thought.

“Carter, get me a glass of water.”

“Yes, sir. Here’s your Earl Grey, enjoy!”

“Carter, print these documents.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Carter–”

“Already on it.”

…

By the end of the day, I was utterly exhausted.

Rich people really know how to treat their employees – always got someone eager to play the loyal pet.

When the end-of-day bell rang, I practically bolted out of the office, feeling a rare rush of joy at escaping this workplace nightmare.

Mason was still calling my name, but sorry, pal, it was quitting time – Carter had officially shut down.

Can’t hear you, won’t hear you.

I sped out the door and hopped into the first taxi I saw, eager to leave Mason in the dust. What I didn’t see, though, was the smug little grin creeping up on his face.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived home… and realized my bag was gone. I stood there, dumbfounded.

That’s when it hit me. Mason’s fake, concerned calls earlier had been a trap. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Without a second thought, I called for another ride, racing back to the office.

To my shock, the place was completely locked up. The same company that usually never closed before midnight had decided to shut its doors early, just for me.

Mason, how could you?!

After standing in the cold wind for ten long minutes, I gave up and found a hotel to crash in for the night.

…

Lying in bed, tossing and turning, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much this hotel was costing me. What, was the bed made of gold or something?

Mason, are you sleeping right now? Because I’m not, and it’s your fault.

“Ding.”

Who’s texting me at this hour?

I reached for my phone and saw Mason’s name pop up.

“Carter, still awake?”

“When you left, you forgot your bag at the office. I hope you’re not upset I didn’t remind you sooner. I did try to call out to you, but you didn’t respond.”

Ugh, how could someone be so passive-aggressive?

“No worries, sir. I’m at a hotel now. Since you’re so kind, I’m sure you’ll cover the cost, right? I’ll send you the bill in a bit. Thanks! Goodnight, sir.”

Why aren’t you replying? I know you’re still awake.

Ever since finding out Mason was still my boss, my motivation for work had been at an all-time low. I mean, what’s the point anymore?

I kept repeating my work mantra, “If you’re not motivated to work, something’s wrong with your head”, hoping to salvage what was left of my drive. But Mason… it’s all your fault.

I hate this.

In college, I used to hate 8 a.m. classes, and apparently, nothing’s changed. But this time, I couldn’t let a comfy hotel bed hold me back – what held me back was the fact that checkout time was looming, and I wasn’t about to pay for an extra night.

Quickly, I packed my things and bolted out of the five-star hotel. Good riddance, and I’d be sure to avoid this one next time.

Back at the office, I felt as worn out as someone who’d spent years living in a cave. My anxiety levels were through the roof, and the headache pounding away in my skull wasn’t helping.

…

Mason showed up and left again, as usual.

How is it that he manages to juggle two companies at once? How many lives has this man ruined?

“Carter, the boss needs you to pack up and join him on a business trip,” the department head, Ms. Bishop, told me.

“What? I can’t. I’m not cut out for this!” I tried to shrink back, feeling like a turtle retreating into its shell. Who in their right mind would want to go on a business trip with Mason?

Ms. Bishop gave me a long, knowing look. “You’re new, and the boss sees potential in you. You should take advantage of this opportunity,” she said, patting my shoulder in a way that told me I didn’t have much of a choice.

“Sure,” I muttered, resigning myself to my fate. Being an employee means following orders, after all.

I rushed home, packed my things, and soon found myself on a plane with Mason and his assistant, Ian.

Mason kept to himself during the trip, staying tight-lipped and acting all high-and-mighty. He really played up the whole “silent and mysterious” routine, as if we were all strangers.

How did an executive spend so much time on business trips? We’d been out here for two days, and I hadn’t seen him meet with a single client or discuss any deals.

Turns out, this was just a glorified vacation.

So, why was I even here? To stop people from thinking you and your assistant were having a secret romance?

Anyone need a completely useless boss? I’m practically giving him away!

After being on a business trip for a week – spending five of those days lounging in a hotel – I fully accepted that I was completely useless. They didn’t need me at all.

“Carter, let’s head back. I’ll promote you when we return. You’ll be my personal secretary. Don’t be too overwhelmed,” Mason announced.

“Thanks, sir, but I’m really not that moved.”

A free promotion from him? Does anyone even want that?

After working my tail off for two years, I wasn’t sure I could keep going.

We returned, and all was “well.”

I got the promotion, so it would’ve been pretty rude of me to quit now.

My duties were upgraded from pouring water and making tea to... making tea and pouring water. Wow, what an achievement.

“You little flirt! I knew you were trouble the moment you started working here, going after the boss!” Lilly, a coworker, tore into me in the break room.

I was genuinely innocent! I hadn’t done anything at all! Every grudge she had, I chalked up to Mason.

“If you think you’re so great, why don’t you take my place? I’m happy to step aside.” As if Mason was some sort of prize. Please. He was just a beanpole with a temper.

“You’ve got nothing but a pretty face! What else can you possibly bring to the table?” Lilly wasn’t backing down. A few years ago, I would’ve argued with her for hours. But now, anything related to Mason? No, thank you.

“Oh, you’re right. I’m just here for the looks. I quit,” I said, waving her off.

Lilly was stunned. Turns out, you couldn’t argue with someone who’d already given up.

I headed back to my desk, excitedly printed out another resignation letter, recycling the one from last time. It was the same boss, after all – why waste paper on two different letters?

“Sir, I think I’m not cut out for this job. I just... I can’t handle it, so I’ve decided…”

“You’ve decided to abandon me?” Mason cut me off, finishing my sentence for me.

What? Did he just play the victim?

“Well, you see... It’s complicated. We’ll just have to see how it plays out,” I babbled, trying to deflect.

“What kind of nonsense are you talking?” he said, eyebrow raised.

…

Needless to say, my reason for quitting wasn’t accepted, and I remained stuck at the company.

It was exhausting. Talking to Mason was exhausting. I made the decision then and there to just stop talking altogether.

“Carter, print this document,” he called out.

I walked over, grabbed the file, and left without saying a word. It obviously irritated him.

“What? Did you go mute?”

I didn’t respond, just did my job in silence.

When I returned with the printed papers, Mason sighed. “Carter, my eyes hurt. Read this document out loud for me.”

Well, so much for my “mute day.”

…

Ever since Mason came into my life, I felt like my resentment had been growing stronger. I used to be a normal, happy person – now I was just bitter. How did I end up like this?

After work, I’d unwind with some mindfulness apps, hoping to rack up some “zen points.”

Watching that little meter fill up was the only thing that brought me peace.

Mason, you’ve really messed me up.

[Everyone at work hates me, and my boss makes my life miserable. After years of suffering, I’ve decided to exact revenge. Give me $50, and I’ll tell you my plan.] I posted on my social media.

Who doesn’t need to blow off some steam? My latest venting session on social media felt therapeutic.

Both Ms. Bishop and Ian liked my post.

Fellow workers knew the struggle. But why wasn’t anyone sending money?

Ding!

Ah, sweet notification sound! Maybe my luck was turning around.

I quickly exited my social feed and saw at the top of my Venmo notifications: [MasonJames sent you $50.]

My heart dropped. No! This wasn’t what I had hoped for at all. Didn’t I block him from seeing my posts?

I carefully double-checked his profile. Yup, he was definitely blocked. How did he see it? Who snitched on me? This was infuriating!

The a message popped up.

MasonDog: [?? Not gonna accept the money?]

Well, I couldn’t leave it hanging. I clicked to accept the money.

Then I quickly set up an auto-reply message:

[Do not contact me outside of work hours. Actually, don’t contact me about work during work hours either.]

MasonDog: […]

Classy, right?

At the same time, I got another message – this time from Lilly.

[Who do you think you’re calling out in your post? You’re disgusting! I already took a screenshot and sent it to the boss. Just wait!]

Auto-reply: [Do not contact me outside of work hours. Actually, don’t contact me about work during work hours either.]

Lilly: [Wow. Okay.]

I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I forwarded my conversation with Mason, including the part where he sent me money. Take that! Scare tactics, really? Nice try.

Unsurprisingly, Lilly went silent.

MasonDog: [??? MasonDog? Is that what you call me?]

Oh no. I’d forgotten to change his nickname in my contacts.

Is it too late to play dead? Lilly, you are so not helping me here.

[Sorry, boss. My bad.]

I wasn’t really sorry. Next time? I’d do it again.

MasonDog: [Insulting your boss? That’s a $500 deduction.]

Me: [But it’s after hours, boss.]

MasonDog: [Are you telling me how to do my job?]

…

Classic.