Notes From The Cubicle Next Door

Prologue - "The Last Day"

The security guard gave me a look when I walked in at 11 PM. I didn't blame him.

"Forgot something, Mr. Kingston?"

"More like leaving something, Dave." I held up my empty cardboard box. "It's my last day."

Dave's eyebrows shot up. He'd been here longer than most of the senior staff.

"No kidding? You're the anime guy from entertainment, right?"

"Was," I corrected him, forcing a smile. "Mind if I...?"

He waved me through. The elevator ride to the third floor felt longer than usual.

Maybe because this was the last time I'd be making this trip.

The office was dark except for the emergency lights.

My desk lamp created a small island of light in the empty space.

Funny how different everything looked at night. Quieter. Almost peaceful.

I started with my anime figures. Careful with Goku – his hair spike had already broken off twice.

Then the family photos. Mom at my graduation. My god-dad's old newspaper clippings. The Nigerian flag Uncle Tunde gave me on my first day.

"I thought I heard someone."

I jumped.

Clark stood in the shadows, his glasses reflecting the dim light.

"Jesus, Clark. Wear a bell or something."

He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Couldn't wait until morning?"

"Didn't want to deal with the goodbye committee."

I wrapped my Luffy figure in old printouts.

"Besides, less chance of running into..."

"June?"

I focused on packing. "Or Perry."

Clark leaned against my desk. "You know, when I first started here—"

"If this is another 'when I was young' story, I swear..."

"Hey, I'm not that old." He picked up my nameplate.

"Though I am old enough to know running away isn't the answer."

"I'm not running." The words came out sharper than I intended.

"I'm choosing to leave. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

I shoved my laptop into my bag.

"You weren't there, Clark. You didn't hear what Perry said."

"No, but I heard what you said. The whole floor did." He paused. "Including June."

"Don't."

"Kingston—"

"I said don't." I slammed my drawer shut.

The sound resonated throughout the empty office.

"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But it's done. I quit. End of story."

Clark was quiet for a moment.

"Is it?"

I stopped packing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just seems like there's a lot of story left to tell."

He picked up one of my sketches that had fallen out. The one of June.

"Starting with this."

I snatched it back. "That's private."

"The fax machine incident wasn't."

"Oh god." I dropped into my chair. "Don't remind me."

"Come on, it was pretty funny. The way you vaulted over Jimmy's desk—"

"While he was filming!"

"To be fair, you did look like a ninja."

Despite everything, I laughed.

"A ninja who face-planted into the copier."

"Still better than the email chain fiasco."

"We agreed never to speak of that again."

Clark grinned. "At least you didn't accidentally send June your entire OneNote journal."

"Actually..." I started.

His eyes widened. "No."

"Remember last week when the network crashed?"

"Kingston, you didn't."

"The cloud sync went crazy! Next thing I know—"

The elevator dinged.

We both froze. Footsteps echoed through the dark office. High heels.

"That's my cue." I grabbed my box and bag. "Back exit?"

Clark nodded toward the fire escape. "I'll distract whoever it is."

"Thanks, Clark. For everything."

"Hey, Kingston?"

I paused at the fire escape door.

"Want to know how I really started at the Daily Planet?"

"How?"

"I quit my first job here too. Came back three months later."

I could hear the footsteps getting closer. "That's not exactly inspiring, Clark."

"No?" He smiled that knowing smile of his.

"Let me tell you how I went from being the Daily Planet's rising entertainment writer to the guy who told Perry White to shove his rejection where the sun doesn't shine. It started three months ago, with a fax machine and a sketch that was never meant to see the light of day..."

The footsteps rounded the corner.

I didn't stay to see who it was.