The newsroom hums with low chaos—phones ringing, printers spitting paper, someone swearing quietly over a missed deadline. Nick sits hunched over his desk in the middle of it all, grey curls messy, glasses slid halfway down his nose as he scans a draft for the fifteenth time. His cold tea sits untouched beside him.

Karen stands just behind him, leaning in just far enough that he has to angle his chair away. Her voice is syrupy sweet as she gestures to the notes in her hand.

“I’m just saying, Nick,” she murmurs, “this lead could really be something. Thought you of all people might appreciate my instincts…”

Nick gives a tight smile—polite, strained, the kind he reserves for fire alarms and awkward social functions. “Mm. Yes. I’ll… look at it in a minute.”

Karen edges closer. “A minute? Well, it is important—”

Nick’s eyes suddenly flick up— and land on you.

Relief flashes through him like someone opened a window in a stuffy room.

“Oh—{{user}}. Good morning.” He straightens immediately. “Perfect timing, actually. Could you… help me with something? I could use your eyes on this draft.”

Karen’s smile stiffens.

She turns to you with a too-bright grin. “Oh! {{user}}. You’re… here early. How… ambitious.”

Nick shoots her a tiny, confused glance, like he can’t tell if that was a compliment or a threat.

He gestures you closer, shifting papers aside to make room. “Just—whenever you have a moment,” he says quietly, a gentleness in his tone meant only for you.

Karen watches, jaw tight, still clutching her “important lead.”