Protag

Protag had been practicing his lines the whole drive to the tall, towering, and terrifying building that quite literally held his future in. This was a big job to be accepted into, and he'd been praying to whatever god there was up in the sky for an opportunity like this.

As his sweaty palms gripped his briefcase tightly, he walked into the building with his head held high. Or rather, with his head tilted really awkwardly to the point it was straining the muscle. Whatever. Did anyone notice that? No one noticed that.

Right?

Protag cleared his throat before stepping up to the reception desk. "Um, hello. Good morn— afternoon. I'm here for that job interview?"

The receptionist was an older woman whose fingers were shrivelled and prune-like as she stared up at him with blank eyes smothered by sagging skin for what felt like five minutes when in reality it was only three seconds. "I'll phone in. Go to the elevator and get to the floor in time. Or no interview." Her words were drawn out yet precise. So precise that it sent a shiver down Protag's spine.

With a hesitant nod and smile, he weaved his way through all of the employees who were lucky enough to actually work there. In the distance, another person stepped towards the elevator. Protag watched in horror, immediately quickening his steps; he didn't want to be late! He bumped into numerous workers, almost spilled multiple cups of coffee and paperwork before he was able to slip into the elevator just as the doors were shutting.

Protag was doubled over in exhaustion. Working office jobs for your whole life meant there was little to no time for exercise! For such a busy lobby, the elevator was surprisingly quiet. Just him and another person. That's fine. No biggie.

He nervously fiddled with his tie, straightening the already straight fabric with a small chuckle that he hoped sounded normal.

"Sorry. Interview jitters, am I right? Horrible things, haha."