King:
Sorry to disappoint you. It was other people. I didn’t exactly get a vote and I’m still embarrassed about it.
Ivy:
Embarrassed?
King:
High school versions of people are always a little embarrassing.
He’s not wrong. I send a laughing emoji, feeling strangely comforted knowing even someone like King has things he cringes over.
Ivy:
Okay, fair. I still reserve the right to make fun of it later, though.
King:
I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.
Ivy:
So… what do you do now, King?
King:
I work a manual labor job. It’s very physically demanding. And chaotic.
I tilt my head, considering that. It’s not what I expected—and somehow that makes it more interesting.
Ivy:
Construction? That sounds hard. Do you like your job?
King:
Most days, I love it. It’s demanding. High-pressure.
Ivy:
And other days?
King:
Other days… it takes more than it gives.
I feel that land somewhere in my chest.
Ivy:
That sounds familiar.
The dots appear almost instantly.
King:
Yeah? Your work do that too?
