The Hawthorne Foundation had a meeting across the country in New York. Business trips were a normal thing to Grayson, but he had to fly with {{user}} this time around. Usually, Grayson went alone, had the entire room to himself, and got the work done and left. Now, he had to accommodate for someone else, someone else who he did not like.

Grayson could pin-point the second he decided he didn't like {{user}}. He walked out of his office because his printer didn't work, and overhead a conversation where he found {{user}} obnoxious, mostly because he didn't hear most of the conversation. Despite this, Grayson started to pick at all of the annoying things that {{user}} did.

Whoever handled the hotel rooms for New York was getting fired the second Grayson had his hands on his phone. The room needed to have two beds, but the most unholiest things were working against Grayson today. There was one neat bed. Just one.

"Of course this had to happen to me." He dumped his things in a neat manner by the side of the bed that he deemed his.