something new. nic&stella.
He’d always prided himself in having pretty good balance, both physically and mentally, but when you had to balance nine cups of coffee in two hands, it didn’t matter how good your balance was. And honestly, if he dropped another cup, he might lose his mind. Or quit. Or both.
When Nicholas graduated from UBC, you know, before he completely, and quite literally, blocked that following year out of his mind, he had his heart set on writing, and telling stories and the news from a new and different perspective, one that most people didn’t get to see.
(He blamed Anchorman for that. Anchorman, and, you know, the bright eyed and bushy tailed positivity that came with being a delusional, fresh-out-of-college grad, especially one who had the friends and family and at the time girlfriend, who encouraged that sort of thing like he did.)
He was going to be the journalist who changed Canada. Or at least Vancouver. Supposedly.
But then that year happened, which was honestly a blur, and then two years later, he got a masters in Journalism at UBC, and landed an internship at the Vancouver Sun, literally a dream for any media student in the entire province. Suddenly, though, his idea of dream news articles turned into ‘Nate, can you fetch me a Vanilla Chai Latte, extra sugar, extra cinnamon?’
He couldn’t be more let down. He’d been at this for two months, and he’d yet to even be considered to be read. And yes, he understood he was a lowly intern, and yes he was pretty much irrelevant at a gigantic paper like this, but all pride aside, he was a good writer. He did good, honest work, and had a good eye for this kind of thing. He thought he deserved a chance.
But no. Instead, he was fetching coffee orders for an entire floor of news writers, instead, and delivering mail and packages, and thing completely irrelevant for what he’d signed up for.
Lennon had warned him, and even mocked him a little about how he’d be the paper’s coffee bitch, and he’d written her off, knowing she was only kidding, but holy shit she was right.
He was more than a little bitter about it, but knew that he had to tough it out for the next four months, his future in this field depended on it.
Nic walked through the floor, dropping off the various orders on each of the desks before he reached the main office in the back.
He’d be meeting the new head of the floor today, and he wasn’t happy. Her first day in and she was already adding to the coffee pile. Great first impression. He didn’t know much about her, other than the fact that she was the youngest editor the Vancouver Sun had ever seen, a year younger than him, but apparently that warranted her an intern, and that made absolutely no sense to him.
“When your dad owns the paper, and your almost brother is the head of the whole thing, you get an intern. Nepotism. It’s kind of annoying.”
Shit, he’d said that aloud. He glanced up from the coffee cup in hand, a sheepish look on his face as his eyes met her stern and slightly amused ones, and then, for a moment, he was floored.
“But you probably shouldn’t mistake my age for inexperience. I grew up walking these halls, and I’ve been writing since I was seven,” she said, walking around her desk to meet him at the door. “Stella Franklin.” She extended her hand for him to shake, and he did so, if not a little dazed.
“Nicholas, right?” she said. “Spencer. UBC, both undergrad and graduate studies? You were editor of the paper there your senior year, right?”
She’d done her research, apparently. (Well, duh, Nicholas, she was a journalist) “That’s right,” he nodded as she dropped his hand and grabbed her latte.
She gave him a smile then, full and pearly white, and pretty that reached her eyes. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Her smile was incredible. He hadn’t so much as thought about a relationship after everything that had happened. Sure, a few hook ups here and there since, but never anything more serious than that. But seeing Stella now, he had this weird feeling, one he hadn’t felt since... well, since he first met Ames.
“Ben and my dad haven’t shut up about your application packet since it landed on dad’s desk” Stella told him. “You wrote some of the best work for a college student either of them have ever seen.”
Nic quirked a brow. That didn’t make any sense. He was fetching coffee, and the mail, but the higher-ups thought the world of his work.
"If they think that, why am I Nate, the coffee guy?” He had to ask.
Stella snorted, but even that was cute. “Think of it as a hazing ritual.” She smirked.
“Gee, thanks,” he finally offered a smile, relaxing slightly as she walked back toward her desk.
“It’s our way of making sure your head’s not too big on the way in,” she teased. “But that was enough of that. I have a story for you. Well, for both of us.” Grabbing a file, she extended it to him. “If,” she held it back. "You’re willing to take it.”
His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Of course I am,” he walked up to her desk, grabbing the file.
“Then, Nicholas, it’ll be a pleasure to work with you,” she nodded, her smirk widening just before she let it go.
“Nic,” he corrected. “And trust me, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said genuinely.
He didn’t know what he was more excited for,
