Chapter 2 — The First Commute

A cool breeze greeted Iris the moment she stepped out of the apartment building.

She stopped.

It had been... a long time.

The morning air smelled of fresh coffee from a nearby café, damp pavement from last night's rain, and blooming flowers planted along the sidewalk. Cars passed one after another, their engines blending with distant conversations and the occasional bark of a dog.

Life.

The city had never stopped moving.

Only she had.

She adjusted the strap of her backpack and looked both ways before carefully walking toward the bus stop.

People.

There were so many people.

Office workers rushed past with coffee cups in hand, students laughed as they crossed the street, cyclists wove between traffic, and delivery vans came and went without pause.

No one noticed her.

No one cared that she was nervous.

That realization was strangely comforting.

Maybe...

Maybe the world wasn't watching her as closely as she had always imagined.

She reached the bus stop five minutes early.

There were already twelve people waiting.

Too many.

Without thinking, she quietly stood at the very end of the line, leaving a little more space between herself and everyone else.

She lowered her eyes and hugged her backpack to her chest.

A little boy standing beside his mother looked up at her curiously.

"Mom..."

The woman smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry."

Iris quickly shook her head.

"It's okay."

The little boy continued staring.

"You look sad."

His words caught her off guard.

She blinked.

"Do I?"

He nodded seriously.

"You should smile."

Before she could answer, the bus arrived with a loud hiss.

Everyone began boarding.

The crowd moved all at once.

Too fast.

Too close.

Someone accidentally bumped her shoulder.

Another person squeezed past.

Voices overlapped.

Tickets beeped.

The driver's radio crackled.

Her breathing faltered.

Not now...

Please...

She stepped aside, letting everyone else board first.

By the time she climbed inside, almost every seat was taken.

She quietly slipped into the last empty window seat near the back.

The bus pulled away.

She let out a slow breath.

One obstacle down.

Many more to go.

...

Twenty-three minutes later...

Glass buildings began replacing apartment blocks.

The streets grew cleaner.

The cars became more expensive.

People wore tailored suits instead of casual clothes.

Her phone vibrated.

Welcome to Volkov Industries. Orientation begins at 9:00 a.m. Please arrive ten minutes early.

Her stomach flipped.

She looked out the window.

Then she saw it.

A skyscraper of glass and steel stretched into the sky, its reflective windows catching the morning sunlight.

The company logo gleamed above the entrance.

VOLKOV INDUSTRIES

Her eyes widened.

"...It's huge."

The bus stopped.

She remained frozen for a moment.

Everyone else stepped off before she finally stood.

Outside, dozens of employees walked confidently through the revolving doors as if this place belonged to them.

Iris, meanwhile, simply stood across the street.

Clutching her backpack.

Looking impossibly small against the towering building.

She swallowed.

"I can do this..."

A pause.

"...Probably."

She crossed the street carefully and approached the entrance.

The revolving door.

She stared at it.

"...How do these work again?"

She had seen them before.

She had just... never actually used one.

An elderly man in a navy suit noticed her hesitation.

He smiled kindly.

"First day?"

Her cheeks flushed.

"...Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled.

"A little."

He stepped into the revolving door first.

"Just walk behind me."

"Oh... thank you."

A few seconds later, Iris found herself standing inside the magnificent lobby.

Marble floors reflected the sunlight.

Modern chandeliers hung from the high ceiling.

Large indoor trees softened the sleek architecture.

Employees crossed the lobby with practiced confidence, greeting one another as they hurried toward elevators.

Everything looked expensive.

Everything looked polished.

Everything looked completely out of place for someone like her.

She tightened her grip on the folder in her hands.

Don't drop it.

Don't trip.

Don't panic.

One thing at a time.

She walked toward the reception desk.

A woman in a charcoal-gray suit smiled professionally.

"Good morning. How may I help you?"

Iris offered a small smile.

"H-Hi... I'm Iris Bennett."

"My first day..."

"I'm here for the junior graphic designer position."

The receptionist typed quickly before nodding.

"Welcome to Volkov Industries, Ms. Bennett."

She handed Iris a visitor badge.

"Orientation will begin on the twenty-fourth floor. The elevators are to your left."

"Thank you."

Iris accepted the badge with both hands.

She turned...

Took exactly three steps...

And walked straight into one of the decorative indoor plants.

Leaves rustled loudly.

The pot wobbled.

Her eyes went wide.

"Oh!"

She caught the pot just before it tipped over.

"...Sorry."

A nearby employee blinked.

Another bit back a laugh.

The receptionist smiled, pretending she hadn't seen a thing.

Face burning, Iris carefully straightened the plant.

"...We're both okay," she whispered to it before hurrying toward the elevators.

She didn't notice the security guard covering his mouth to hide a grin.

Nor did she notice the black luxury sedan gliding silently to a stop outside the front entrance.

Its rear door opened.

A pair of polished black shoes touched the pavement.

Employees near the entrance instinctively straightened.

Conversations stopped.

The air itself seemed to change.

Alexander Volkov had arrived.

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