Psychotic (BVS Lex Luthor x Reader)

chapter one

THEN

"Ms. ____, sorry to interrupt," the chirpy voice of one of your coworkers rang out, "but Mr. White wants to see you in his office right away."

'Great start to an already great morning!'  you thought sarcastically to yourself. Your hands stopped skimming the keys of your laptop. The article you had been writing was yanked from your attention as the panic started to settle. You lifted your fingers from the keyboard before you and nodded at your coworker. "Alright, thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied.

You heard the click of the woman's high heels against the floor. Your eyes stared at the bright screen in front of you. What could Perry White want now? He'd probably scold you, no doubt. You sighed and swallowed down the anxiety that had began to bubble frigid shards in your throat.

You'd been working for the Daily Planet for three and a half years. At the age of twenty-eight, you managed to keep your job steady and your life okay. You were unmarried, without kids, and pretty lonely, but it was fine. You had this job, a purpose, and an excuse. 'Dedicated to my work!' was always your favorite excuse. It was never a lie, only the truth; writing was your passion.

You stood and started away from your desk, towards the grey doors of his office. Before your moved, you sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. The anxiety of talking to Perry White never subsided, no matter how long you had been working in this building. He was just one of those guys that scared you, and he knew it. He took full advantage of your fear and used it as he pleased.

You knocked your fist against the door and paused for a response.

"Come in," his voice boomed.

You tugged on the handle and opened it as quietly as possible. Perry White looked up from his papers and nodded. "Ah, Ms. ___. Have a seat." The darker skinned male gestured to the grey office chair in front of his desk.

"Yes, sir," you mumbled. "Mr. White, if this is about my upcoming article, I promise that it'll be done soon. I just haven't been given much to work with-"

"No, no, it's not that, Ms. ____." He waved his hand as a sign to brush your statement off.

"Oh." You shut your lips lightly and folded your hands on your lap.

Perry turned away and reached out for his full coffee pot. "Coffee?" he offered.

You smiled kindly and shook your head. "Oh, no thank you, Mr. White."

He nodded and settled back into his seat. He stirred his coffee as he began to speak. "Now, Ms. ____, I reviewed a couple of your recent articles. You're a fantastic writer with a lot of passion, aren't you?"

You laughed soundlessly and shrugged. "I like to think so."

"Well, I myself would like to think so, as well." He tossed the plastic spoon into the trash bin and sighed. "Ms. ____..."

You gulped. 'You're fired. He's going to fire you. How are you going to afford food? Rent? Where will you go? You have nothing...'

"Typically, you're skilled in writing interesting pieces about whatever is the latest grand thing going on in Metropolis. But not last week. What was your article about last week, Miss?"

"Um... the Batman of Gotham."

He dropped two stacks of computer paper, covered in typed wording and colored pictures and diagrams. You recognized one as yours, but there was a second one, one that wasn't your work. "Precisely. Now, I find it funny that both you and Mr. Clark Kent have both wasted my time with these useless words about some dark figure in a city that isn't ours. No one cares about the Bat taking on Superman in an epic battle." His face was tinged with red, and it made you look away. He took a long and loud sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Look, you're one of my best writers. The Daily Planet needs you, Ms. ____. But if you continually send in these useless pages filled with garbage, I'll have to let you go."

"I understand," you replied shakily. His cruel words stung, but you were too afraid of losing your job to say anything. 

"Do you?" he continued. He grabbed his glasses and swiped them off his nose. With the sleeve of his dress shirt, he wiped the lenses and placed them back onto his nose. "I want to be sure that I am absolutely clear."

"I'm sure, Mr. White," you replied. "It'll never happen again. But... is there something specific you'd like me to write about, sir?"

"Ah, glad you asked." Perry White rose from his chair. He marched to the window as he slurped down more coffee. "I want both you and Clark to head down to Mr. Alexander Luthor's party tomorrow evening. Observe the guests, talk to them, watch them."

Your eyebrows pulled together. "Are we supposed to observe and watch Mr. Luthor, or someone else...?"

He turned and shrugged at you. "You tell me, Ms. ____. Everyone will be there, and I'm sure that you'll find something to write about. Write about him, if you find something interesting enough about his life."

"He's a thirty-one year old rich guy," you remarked. "What's there to write about?"

"Ms. ____!" Perry White slapped his hand on his desk and leaned over it. His dark eyes were filled with annoyance and impatience as he stared into your own. "I do not care if what you find is Mr. Luthor's plans to destroy the city. Find something. Write about it. Or you're fired."

"Y-Yes, Mr. White. I'll - we'll - find something." You nodded fearfully and stood up. Your entire body shook as you tried to smoothly push your chair in.

"For your job's sake, I suggest you do."

You swallowed as Perry White took another drink of his coffee and turned away. You quietly fled the room. You needed this job more than anything, which meant that you needed to find Clark Kent.