- Sean -
Another day, another email. I drum my fingers across the cluttered surface of my desk, piles of paperwork standing sentinel like forgotten sentries. The fluorescent light buzzes overhead, a droning reminder of the nine-to-five grind I'm trapped in. My gaze flits across the room—a chaos of meetings, deadlines, and hollow conversations. It all feels a bit surreal, like one of those dreams where you're running a race but your feet are stuck in molasses.
"Sean!" Zayn's voice breaks through my mental fog. My best friend, the ever-optimistic anchor in my sinking ship, stands framed in the doorway, concern etched on his face. I give him a nod, trying to muster a semblance of friendliness, but the warmth doesn't quite reach my eyes. I can see the worry hiding behind his perpetual grin.
