Boundaries
William’s commute passed like a blur—as had his afternoon. He couldn’t stop thinking. Couldn’t focus.
Judging by the office’s tense silence, he hadn’t been the only one struggling. Morale was low. It would stay that way for a while.
Those who were fired today weren’t monsters. They were just normal people who hadn’t given enough of a shit about their jobs—but how could they have with management exploiting them at every turn? Some had even been fun to be around. Now they were gone, and because of the company’s security policy, they hadn’t been given a chance to say goodbye.
William pushed his way through the packed bus. He took a deep breath as he got off and began his walk to Oliver’s place. The air was still humid out, but no rain had been forecast. As Adathan had said this morning: the sky no longer had sorrows to share.
A soft smile grew on William’s lips. Adathan had such a way of describing the world that never failed to melt his grumpy heart. After a day like this, his playful optimism would be more than welcome.
William slowed to a stop as a familiar sight caught his eye. A series of hardcover encyclopedias was on display in the windowof a bookstore—new editions of those he used to devour as a kid, with pictures and illustrations on every page. He could almost smell the ink as he studied the covers across the window. Could almost feel the glossy paper against his fingertips.
He’d sold them when he turned eighteen and had used the money to take part in his first poker tournament.
William’s smile fell. He’d traded a passion that soothed his heart for one that made it race.
One thing they didn’t tell you when you got into gambling was that those sensations came with a steep non-monetary price. They wore you down, bit by bit, until nothing else was enough—leaving you always chasing your next fix.
William had firmly believed he was part of a community of elites, a soon-to-be poker celebrity who would drown in riches and admirers. Now he felt like such an idiot.
How had he expected to build meaningful relationships in a circle where people’s only objective was to bleed other members dry? No wonder he’d been convinced he was selfish. He’d just been so keen on being like one of those people he’d looked up to.
William glanced at the price tag and nearly had a heart attack. Fucking inflation. He could always put them on his credit card—technically, he would soon have enough money to afford them. But he’d made one firm rule when he moved out of his mom’s basement: don’t spend the money you don’t already have.
But Adathan would be so happy . . .
William shook his head and resumed walking. Adathan would be just as glad to get a library card that granted him access to thousands of books.
Only one day left before the weekend, and then they could get that taken care of.
William perked up as a thought crossed his mind. They could go to the biodome on Saturday and admire some of the animals from the documentaries in real life. And then they could go toan all-you-can-eat buffet and eat for hours. William knew a place not too far from here with a large selection of soups.
He turned on Oliver’s street, taking his phone out to send him a text.
? William:Almost there
He stopped at a crosswalk and waited. A man in an expensive-looking suit appeared next to him, holding a shiny leather briefcase in one hand and scrolling on his phone with the other. William glanced at the screen, expecting to see an article about finances or something.
He nearly let out a sound of surprise when he saw a social media feed full of anime fanart. The man was repeatedly tapping the like icon with a big grin on his face, not giving a fuck that people could see.
William really needed to stop letting appearances fool him. It was a difficult reflex to break after over a decade of consuming nothing but media about poker and wealthy lifestyles.
All appearances, no substance.
Just like the men William had worked under for nine years. Except he’d never wanted to be one of them.
His jaw tightened as he crossed the street. He couldn’t believe the assholes had exploited him. William had never been interested in a promotion before, but would things have been different if his managers had made him feel appreciated?
He hadn’t given Amanda an answer yet, but he had no intention of refusing her offer. For one, he’d be an absolute idiot to say no to a fifty percent salary increase, ten additional vacation days, and his own office—with a fully functional door he could close when the entire world got on his nerves. For another, it would be impossible for him to do a worse job than the bozos who came before him.
But the whole thing felt . . .
William didn’t know how he felt.
Amanda’s praise was invigorating, and knowing his colleagues had put in a good word for him made his heart flutter. But it also frightened him. Because once he genuinely acknowledged his need for validation, his defenses would falter, and he’d be left vulnerable.
With time, William had conditioned himself to prioritize his desires over his needs. Winners pushed through—they put their lives on hold as they poured all their energy toward making their lofty dreams come true. Losers took things slow, wasting their potential on mundane concerns like well-being and whatnot.
