Post by Arlaye on Mar 4, 2008 3:14:50 GMT 1
Sebastian's 'flat' was composed of a single room and a cupboard. The room was a combined kitchen and living area, if you could even call it a room in the first place. The kitchen was plain enough: just a cook top, a sink and a small fridge. A glass-paned door led to the outside and provided the only outside light. Sebastian's single-size bed stood at the far end of the room, which was dominated by a complex-looking stack of computers. The cupboard served as a ridiculously small bathroom: it was pretty much a shower box with a toilet and tap stuffed inside. You could even shower sitting down if you wanted.
The advantage of living in this shoebox flat was the price. Others paid millions for the sky-high penthouses overhead, but Sebastian's rent was cheap enough that he could save a decent chunk each week. And it was a good thing he had, because he had just lost his job.
The boss fired him for slacking off and disrupting other staff members. This was not really Sebastian's fault of course, but rather that of the vicious twenty-six year old woman who worked at the reception desk. Having taken a special liking to Sebastian, she was disgusted to find that he didn't take up with older women, especially not ones who wore such thick layers of plastic on their faces. Subsequently, she had plotted revenge.
Sebastian sat hunched on the edge of his bed, staring gloomily at the floor. Christmas eve, what a day to get fired. No job, therefore no career... what could he possibly do now?
He briefly considered opening a back account in Switzerland and computer-hacking his way to riches, but quickly realised that he just needed to get another job. There had to be plenty out there, he only had to find one. He was, of course, superior to most people and they all had jobs... they couldn't shoot lightning out of their fingers after all, could they?
Puffing up with self-confidence, he leapt to his feet and snatched up a sweater, flinging the door open with an optimistic grin. Screw the internet; he would go door-to-door, and hopefully the Christmas spirit would encourage someone - anyone, to give him some work.
He was halfway down the street by the time he realised that his door key was still on the kitchen bench.
The advantage of living in this shoebox flat was the price. Others paid millions for the sky-high penthouses overhead, but Sebastian's rent was cheap enough that he could save a decent chunk each week. And it was a good thing he had, because he had just lost his job.
The boss fired him for slacking off and disrupting other staff members. This was not really Sebastian's fault of course, but rather that of the vicious twenty-six year old woman who worked at the reception desk. Having taken a special liking to Sebastian, she was disgusted to find that he didn't take up with older women, especially not ones who wore such thick layers of plastic on their faces. Subsequently, she had plotted revenge.
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Sebastian sat hunched on the edge of his bed, staring gloomily at the floor. Christmas eve, what a day to get fired. No job, therefore no career... what could he possibly do now?
He briefly considered opening a back account in Switzerland and computer-hacking his way to riches, but quickly realised that he just needed to get another job. There had to be plenty out there, he only had to find one. He was, of course, superior to most people and they all had jobs... they couldn't shoot lightning out of their fingers after all, could they?
Puffing up with self-confidence, he leapt to his feet and snatched up a sweater, flinging the door open with an optimistic grin. Screw the internet; he would go door-to-door, and hopefully the Christmas spirit would encourage someone - anyone, to give him some work.
He was halfway down the street by the time he realised that his door key was still on the kitchen bench.