"Hey, Lucas? Would you mind coming through here for a sec?"
The voice didn’t come from a stranger by any means. Luke was used to hearing it everyday that he was in the studio. The phrase, on the other hand, caught him by surprise.
The clock hands had barely reached five o’ clock, which just so happened to be closing time that day. It made the artist rather unnerved to be called back so late.
A fiery haired man with an equal amount of tattoos greeted Lucas at the door of his pristine office. The room seemed to be completely out of place - after all, everything had a sheen rather than being matte, and barely any of the space had been taken up. It was a bit unfair, really.
"I’ve noticed that your efforts around have started to dwindle. You’re no longer pulling in any customers and you don’t even make up for that by otherwise helping around the shop-"
"Are you trying to fire me?" Luke rudely interrupted, which earned him a judging raised eyebrow. "Are you trying to say that I’m not good enough for you? You need me here. Half of these walls are covered in my designs.”
Any of the boss’ attempts to justify himself were deflected. Luke wasn’t having any of it. Simply to prove a point, he returned to the now empty workspace and began to rip off the flash sheets that he designed, leaving unsightly gaps. His rage built as he went along and he tore down the work of his apparent competitors as well. They can’t get rid of me once they know how important I am, he reminded himself.
The manager walked over again and grabbed onto Lucas’ wrist in an attempt, but he just twisted around and pushed his employer into an almost-empty wall. “Fuck you… Fuck you, and fuck every god damn person here. I’m done.”
