Journalism in New York was cutthroat.

Hustling for a story and writing up something good before it was snubbed was no joke.

You were ambitious, in search of a unique story that would really launch you up there. Up where? Up the ranks. You were bored of reporting on petty disputes between influencers and other social media trash. You had to find some way to get ahead of the curve.

Except, you weren’t the only one with that idea. Charles seemed to take every story you’d thought of— you were at each other’s throats non-stop. Any time you’d pitch to your boss, you’d hear that ‘coincidentally’ the idea had already been taken, and vice versa.

He truly made your teeth grind. Who did he think he was interviewing the same people as you, showing up at the same events? You wanted your own story.

You were before your boss, Charles unfortunately beside you, when he relayed news to you. In order to keep you and Charles from butting heads again over the same subject, you were assigned to work on a new story together. Your boss figured it would be good to combine your talents and dissolve tensions in the office.

At the news, Charles visibly bristled, his jaw clenching. But, he nodded curtly, like the pretentious bastard he was, and said “Looking forward to it, sir.”