Michael Evans Behling Imagines

Fired Pt 1

You knew that you were late for work and the last time you were, it was because you overslept and forgot to call in late. The situation you were in right now was completely different.

For starters, your broke when it fell off your bed with you, then you hit your head on the corner of your bedside table and felt some blood but ignored it and hopped into the shower. After your tragic shower incident where you slipped and landed on your dominant hand, you figured that it wouldn't hurt to leopard crawl your way to your closet and drag your uniform on.

23 minutes late and counting. You still haven't managed to get through your front door. You couldn't even call anyone - the phone you once possessed was now done for. You get to the lobby and out the revolving doors but not before your bag gets stuck and you yank on it as hard as you can with your injured hand. Cursing loudly, you receive quite a few nasty looks but you pay them no mind as you rush to your day job.

You were over 45 minutes late and just as you walk through the door, you collided with someone and their scorching coffee spilled all over you and your bag, and to make it worse, your boss was just staring at you, shaking his comically large bald head. You knew what that meant — you were fired.

The ringing of the doorbell triggered your mini meltdown. You threw your arms into the air and screamed for as long as you could. The moment you felt arms wrapping themselves around you, it was like somebody else was screaming and having a bad day because you instantly calmed down.

Turning around, you come face to face with your best friend's male best friend that you met in passing once. You sighed and released yourself from his grip, or at least attempted to. He tried to apologise for what happened but you had already taken off, hoping to never see him again