Forgotten Friend | tomlinson

Epilogue

One year later.

Two pristine, silver doors slide to the side, opening to my way out. As I exit the elevator, bright sunlight gazed into the building through the tall windows, livening the area. My heels - which are giving me major blisters - click along with me as I make my way through the desks and scattered papers and whatnot. I turn the corner of the brick wall, on my way to my office - excuse me, my new, improved office, I should say.

Because a month ago, I got promoted to manager of the building. Not to toot my own horn but, uh, a-toot toot. With a new status, comes a new office and I can not be more happy. Seriously. I'm still jittering. After almost a year of working for this company, I'm already manager of the building - yes, there came a lot of hard, stressful work, but still. It's unbelievable.

And I must say, I feel pretty professional right now.

But God, I hate high heels.

Arriving at the door, I turn the silver metal knob and enter into my office. Wood flooring covers the ground as rustic, white walls surround the room, with a few decorations here and there. Except for the opposite wall, across the opened door, it's nothing but a gigantic window. That's my favorite part. It's just a wall of glass, so simple, yet the most creative thing in this room.

The building is designed about the same way. Before, it used to be an old warehouse years ago, but it's been innovated into this amazing, comforting, modern workplace. Tall, glass windows stretch all around on each floor, letting in uplifting sunlight, along with interior brick walls, rustic brass exterior walls, and stone flooring. The architecture highlights the company as well - representing the fact that we can take anything, anything and turn it into what you're looking for and even more. The building has it's own personality. I love it.

I lay my bag on my brass desk and log into my computer. Checking my inbox, I already have a dozen emails I have to examine. Plus I have to start discussing the design for the new apartments being built. Being manager is a prideful position, but it's also very busy.

A perky knock on my door starts me, "Come in." I reply.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" almost the entire floor screams, flooding my room.

Oh God, it's my birthday?

Gasping in shock and nearly falling off my chair, I brush the hair out of my face and look up to the surprises. I push the home button on my phone and the screen lights up, giving me the time of 8:46am on Thursday, June 9. Dang it, it is my birthday.

About everyone located here on the floor, including some people I've grown fond of around the building, hold bright smiles upon their face and laughter at my unprepared state. Multiple people contain balloons in their hands, while wearing the pointy party hats. Oh my God.

Along with that, the most ecstatic out of them all would have to be my assistant manager, who's leading this entire parade.

Oh yea, Skylar's my assistant manager. Naturally.

Sky's holding a massive cake in her arms, with white frosting and the words Happy Birthday Jess! written on the top. Of course she planned all of this, deciding to startle me at practically nine in the morning with almost everyone here. I forgot it was my birthday, honestly, especially with my hectic schedule. All I would prefer is a simple and sweet cupcake, a nice happy birthday song, and hugs all around. But, of course, Skylar made it big and bold.

Don't get me wrong. I'm beyond thankful for this. I love it and love everyone here.

"Aw, guys," I say, as Skylar places the cake on my desk, "you didn't have to do this. Th-thank you, really, but this is more than I could ever ask for."