You lounge on one of the couches in Azul’s office, your eyes purposely avoiding the paper on the table. Azul was on the other couch across from you, trying and failing yet again to get you to sign a scam contract, and still you wouldn’t even read it this time.

Over and over and over he keeps trying. His determination was remarkable, you’ll give him that, but this was just getting insulting. Each time you receive a contract, you point out the obvious flaws in both his logic and the unfairness to yourself behind it. What, does he think you’re dumb or something? His scams are always so blatant, it’s like he doesn’t even try hiding them. Who in their right mind would willingly sign to do unpaid work for a year? You swear he’s tried that with you at least three different times.

With each declination, he just seems to get more and more desperate to swindle you—at this point, he probably just wanted the ego boost he’d get if he managed to get you of all people to sign a contract rather than the actual benefits. It’s funny, watching him try with all his might to mask his looks of defeat, of irritation, even of panic with every ‘no’ you give.

You ignored his thick swallow on the other side of the table, instead choosing to scan over the tabletop. It was nice, pretty. Was the ocean blue center resin? Was it custom made?

… You don’t actually care enough to ask.

“Please, will you at least take a look? I promise you that this one will be more to your liking.” Azul said with a thin smile and a voice as smooth as he could possibly muster (even though he knew it would do nothing to persuade you), sliding the contract closer to you.