Chapter Text
2:34 AM Thursday
Loud clicking of the keyboard fills his ears as he typed away into his google doc. The noise, bothersome to the point of conditioning. Words flowed through him like strings knotted into letters then words. A tapestry of words that awoke awe and fascination to a reader in a way that he couldn't connect to. He feels mindless, the space in his skull replaced with what remained of him, rotting away. Even when his words suggested otherwise.
He straightens his back for the fifth time since he realised he's been sitting hunched on his spinning chair. The bright lights from the computer burns into his retinas and creates black spots into the corners of his vision till the blurring words on his computer is all he can see. Then changing colours, shapes, the black ink melting- Lin ling squeezes his eyes shut.
On his third overtime and fourth coffee of the day, lin ling would say this is the healthiest he'd been since graduating college. No one asks if that's true or not. No one really spares the time to speak with him anyway. Suppose he was a bit sad when no one asked him if he was working overtime when they packed their things and rushed home but now he understood.
He too had given in to submission. Lin ling forced himself to unblur his eyes and focus back on the video that is now playing on his screen. The cracks on the display are ignorable because of the destruction happening on the screen. His crappy airpods blast the sounds of the rubble and crack of concrete in his ears. It's unbearably loud in his ears and makes his head pound.
The Top 15 Hero Nice cuts in from the corner of his screen, the camera angle catching his side profile beautifully as he zoomed past, on his way to fight his nemesis, Wreck, who was currently raising the tar of some random road the public rarely uses, to block Nice's path.
Some would say that the camera work was too professional for what was happening in an active crime scene. Except it was not real and wholly scripted. Raw footage taken from the scene and sent to him in multiple clips for him to stitch together and make an appealing advertisement. He only needed fifteen seconds of footage. But that had to be perfect. Even when there wasn't anything inherently imperfect about Hero Nice, it was just him wanting things to be perfect. Or maybe the caffeine is taking effect on him.
Is he doing too much overtime watching footage of Nice's tight fitted suit hugging his thighs and abs and burning his eyes for a toothpaste ad? Probably but rarely did anyone care about the cracks on the screen that you couldn't see unless you squint. People did not squint. So here he was. Underpaid, overworked and underfucked. The last being a tmi but who cares.
Lin ling shivered suddenly. He should've switched the AC off but the stillness and the quiet would be torturing to sit through and it would make him anxious so he chose to suffer instead. He turned his gaze away from the desktop and towards the large windows right by his booth. Large imposing buildings that seem to touch the skies and cutting in from the corner of his eye, a large airship passes by his window. "Never give up, okay?" The cheerful and warm voice of the sweetest, most beautiful woman to ever exist. Her bright smile breaks past the numbness that he felt just beneath the skin, breaking away like sweat.
'Thank you, Moon,' Lin ling thinks, sighing miserably. He wished he could thank her in person but that was a far off dream, despite how closely he worked with the Treeman company. Though making ads for them every now and then can't actually be considered close.
Somedays he felt jealous of the hero Nice. Having such a kind hearted and graceful woman for a girlfriend. Their story, a classic romantic meet-cute. They were perfect for each other and Lin ling was a reflection on their framed photo. It was shameful to have thoughts like that. To be envious of a chance he never had. He knew his place more than anyone and he was happy with it.
Lin ling solemnly watched the airship fly past, taking his hopes away with it. He pulls away from the window and turns back to his desk.
3:43 AM Thursday
The streets are colder than the air conditioning back at his office. Biting at his skin and making his teeth chatter and he sucked in a cold breath, cooling his lungs. It was quiet except for the scraping of his shoes through the concrete path and the light of the street light lamp above him.
He doesn't know how he makes it back to his apartment but he somehow manages to climb up the stairs, his bag weighing like rocks had been dropped into it every five seconds. He slumps against his door for a moment, weary, and his sore fingers fumble for the key in his pocket. He almost lets out a choked cry of frustration when the key doesn't fit in only to realise he's standing in front of the wrong door.
It's three doors from the stairs not two, Lin ling begrudgingly scolded himself. So he drags himself five more steps then two more and shoves the key in. He gropped the handle, getting irritable by the second and swings the door open in a haste. He stumbles in and falls face flat onto the hard wooden and rotten floor. The bag landing somewhere on the floor.
Lin ling's eyes flutter close for a moment, feeling himself drifting into dreamland. His skin, melting like thick liquid and disappearing into the cracks of the floor boards and his organs slowly follow. But he forcefully opens his eyes and groans, remembering the still open door and squirms, stretching his foot out to try and reach the edge of the agar door and with a swift swing, shuts it close with a bang.
Lin ling doesn't even have the energy to register the sound nor the screams and curses coming from all four sides of his apartment for some reason, though realistically only two.
Lin ling peels himself off the floor because he much rather pass out standing up rather than dragging himself through the floor and getting mold or something, on him. He dives in for his bed and is gone like a light within a second. His loud snores cut through the stillness of the room.
6:00 AM Wednesday