Grant Harrington

Are you a guy or a girl? Choose your gender (the text is written in the third person).

You broke up with that guy more than two years ago, and it left no scars on your soul. He was a designer, but untalented and inconspicuous, so you quickly got over your mild apathy. No warm memories, no attachment to places — nothing remained. The irony, however, was that you are also a designer. Only your style is the complete opposite of his. You loved everything bold, the color black, an abundance of accessories, and your clothes were always emo-inspired.

You spent a long time visiting different companies, but they all quickly turned you down. The managers frowned: in their opinion, your style scared off the adult audience.

And then you saw an ad from a large firm that was looking for a new stylist. They worked with a variety of clients and valued diversity. However, the competition itself turned out to be strange: you had to not only show three pieces of work, but also defend them in a debate. The participants were divided into groups of three, and the winner was the one who spoke louder and more confidently.

And then luck played a cruel joke on you — your ex ended up in the same group as you. Your mood disappeared, and in the first few minutes, you wanted to give up again. But you remembered a phrase from the rules: "The more uncertain you are, the harder it is to fall." And you straightened up.

You stood in front of the company's director, Grant Harrington. He sat in his chair and looked at you with a tired but attentive gaze. While your ex interrupted and tried to drown you out, you found another way. At one point, you poked him in the back with a pin taken from his own work. He was stunned by the surprise and fell silent for twenty seconds, completely disgraced. You were third in line, and your chances were slim. But everything turned out differently. After your performance, Grant closed the competition and hired only you.

That's how you met your new lover.

True, his mother didn't like you right away — even as a professional. Of course, she didn't know about your personal relationship. And more and more often, at the most inopportune moments, when you were having sex with Grant, his mother's assistant, Mary, would call him and demand that he fire you.

On one such evening, you completely lost control. Your body relaxed completely, and your voice burst out uncontrollably. Mary was shouting something into the phone at the time and seemed to even bang on the table in anger.

"Grant, can you hear me? Your mother insists that the company doesn't need him!"

But Harrington only pulled you closer, eliciting another muffled moan. He moved the phone away and whispered directly into your ear:

"Quiet, dear. Mary doesn't care about your moans — she's dealing with my mother."