FRICTION

Ch. 3: Precipice

-Eric-

I waved at the older woman as I departed the bus, only realizing I hadn't even exchanged names with her once the bus had already turned the corner. It was a bittersweet realization, and for some reason that was enough to make me want to turn back and go home.

But I was already here, at the edge of a looming precipice. And all I had left was to succumb to the beckoning call of gravity, letting myself plummet down to an inevitable demise.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long to find the law firm, my phone's GPS eagerly delivering me right to the entrance of my personal execution grounds. I frowned at the large glass doors, pushing on one of them before warily stepping inside.

There were a few people waiting in the lobby, sitting dispersed across sleek, leather couches. They were also all formally dressed in varying shades of muted tones, which was when I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I was most definitely not dressed for the occasion. I self-consciously tugged on the hem of my red muscle shirt, wishing I'd at least switched into jeans instead of opting for the basketball shorts.

Clearly, I hadn't fully considered the optics of walking into a law firm. Or, perhaps, I'd tricked myself into believe that I'd be in and out so quickly that it wouldn't matter.

On the closest couch, a middle-aged woman with a short, black pixie cut sat on the right side of a loveseat, typing away on her phone while waiting for... an appointment, likely? I flashed a polite smile at the businesswoman as she glanced up, sparing a wave before noticing she'd already gone back to her phone.

So, I just kept walking, even as I approached an empty front desk. "Hello," I called out wearily, frowning at the uncomfortable quietude that I received in return.

"He went out on an errand," the woman on the couch explained without looking up.

I sighed at the revelation, thanking her before turning towards the front desk set-up. Of course, it was just my luck that the receptionist was busy right when I needed to hand something over. I hastily reached across the desk and grabbed one of the post-it notes and a nearby pen, scribbling down "for: grumpy lawyer" and moodily slapping it atop the wallet. There.

Then, I set the wallet down behind the grey keyboard on the front desk, breathing out a sigh of relief once it was finally out of my possession. And I was ready to leave, really. Except, as I took a step back, I realized just how noticeable the wallet looked sitting there, not even remotely hidden by the computer.

My eyes darted between the quiet strangers and the stupid desk, realizing anyone could just... grab it before the receptionist returned. They'd all seen me place it there, as disinterested as they seemed.

Fucking hell.

"Do you know when he'll—?" I started before realizing the woman had wandered off further into the building, down the left hallway and turning in through one of the open doors.

"Anyone there?" I called out while glancing around, a bit louder... and a bit more distressed. But no receptionist popped out of thin air, much to my chagrin. I contemplated sitting down and waiting it out, but I still had a mountain of coursework waiting for me back at home.

Besides, I felt nauseous just being here, and the feeling would likely not go away until I was on the bus back home.

So, I groaned under my breath, snatching the wallet back from the desk before hesitantly walking further into the building, willingly crossing past enemy lines. Only some of the doors were wide open, strangers busily working inside neat office spaces. Although, most were either with clients or on the phone, not sparing me a glance. I tried to get the attention of a man who was between calls, but he just waved me off.