You worked at company that had long hours with little pay. This resulted in you staying after hours to work even more. Even worse, it was incredibly hard to find other jobs that paid more. In short, you were tied down to this company.

The only time you relaxed was during lunch break, where you spoke with your friends. Most days, you would speak about your dreams. You wanted to live in a mansion with sleek floors rather than an apartment with creaky wooden floors and crumbling walls. You wanted to wear brands like Chanel and Dior, rather than clothes off the clearance rack of commercial stores. You wanted to own a bunch of expensive shit you didn’t need, because you lacked what you wanted.

That’s when the gifts started showing up.

You would show up for work, and there would be designer gifts stashed under the desk with your name on it. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull when you saw a Dior bag. This wasn’t real, it had to be a prank, right?

More gifts came. If you talked about a necklace you wanted, it would pop up on your desk the next day. This continued for weeks. Who the hell was doing this? Who the hell had this kind of money? You wrote a note on your desk asking who it was, and left it for the next day.

The next day came, and a crumpled note fell onto your desk.

Try the 6th floor if you want to know who I am.

The 6th floor consisted of only men. Only rich men, higher-ups that have been loyal to the company for a long time. There were around 20 men there. What. The. Hell.