I’d just been chewed out by my stone-cold boss and was practically dissolved in tears, so I quickly tapped open the chat for my online boyfriend. “Waaah, honey, that devil boss just trashed my proposal again.” The reply was almost instantaneous. “That miserable jerk! How dare he talk to my baby like that?” “Don’t worry, babe. Get some sleep tonight. I’ll fix this for you.” The next morning, I handed my boss the proposal my online boyfriend had stayed up all night rewriting. My boss stared at the document for a long time, his expression growing strangely complex. Even the sound of his voice carried a tremor I almost missed. “This proposal… you did this?” 1 As a recent college graduate—a grunt worker barely out of the intern pool—I’d practically bored a hole to the earth’s core trying to draft a half-decent proposal. The day before, in the meeting, my boss held up my work with disgust. “Do we really need this garbage cluttering the folder? Whose is this?” Graham Shaw was an Ivy League legacy, a trust-fund prodigy who’d returned from London with an MBA and a face that looked straight out of a GQ spread. He was brilliant, ruthless, and universally loathed. My friends told me I was lucky, getting paid to look at a face that belonged on a billboard. Only I knew how soul-crushing his perfectionism was. Hesitantly, I raised my hand. The next second, his sharp, glacial gaze was on me. “How were you hired with work like this? It seems the HR department has become quite the joke.” The whole room was watching. My cheeks burned hot, and all I wanted was for the floor to swallow me whole. Unsurprisingly, I was kept back. I stood. He sat. His brow was deeply furrowed as he tossed my proposal onto the floor. “Last chance. Produce trash like this again, and you can walk yourself down to HR.” I swallowed hard and bent to pick up the papers, not daring to meet his eyes. My own eyes were stinging and swollen, but I didn't care. I kept my head down and stumbled out of his office. 2 I finally found an empty hallway corner where I could sob uncontrollably, then reflexively opened the messaging app to vent to my online boyfriend. “He made me cry again today.” The reason I was here, working, instead of finishing my Master’s, was because my mom had gotten terribly sick right after I secured my acceptance. Every penny we had went to her care. The money still wasn't enough. On a friend’s suggestion, I started a niche account, doing faceless livestreams of me making custom macrame wall hangings. To my shock, people actually tipped. Then, my online boyfriend showed up, immediately became my Tier-S Patron, and dumped what added up to over eight hundred thousand dollars into my account. For a college graduate from a normal background, it was an astronomical, life-changing sum. I added him as a friend to thank him. "Midnight_Investor" was nothing like my boss. He was kind. He comforted me every time I was down. Soon, we were inseparable. He replied right away. “Hugs, baby. Your boss is clearly a toxic narcissist.” “He has no right to yell at our baby. I believe everything you do is the best.” “After all, you’re so talented with your hands. You make those gorgeous macrame pieces.” The more he comforted me, the more the raw emotion welled up. “But I really worked so hard on that proposal. I didn’t even sleep last night, and he still screamed at me.” He immediately sent a flurry of the kissing emojis I always used. “It’s okay, baby. You just graduated. It’s good to let the sadness out. Big things take time.” “Don’t be sad. I’ll fix the proposal for you tonight. You get some rest.” Looking at the gentle, thoughtful man on the screen, half my heart melted. I scrubbed at my raw, red eyes. “What good is crying?” The cold, icy voice made my whole body jump. I looked up to see my boss, Graham, meticulously wiping his hands, looking vaguely annoyed. “If you can’t seize the opportunity, if you rely on ‘taking your time’ for everything, you’ll end up like your proposal: thrown in the trash.” He tossed the hand-wiping napkin into a waste bin to emphasize his point. His cold eyes leveled on my still-red ones. “So, instead of crying here, get back to work.” 3 After Graham finally left, I was barely able to keep myself from collapsing in tears again. How could someone with a pulse say something so glacial? But this company was excellent. I’d fought tooth and nail to get this job. With Mom’s illness, I absolutely could not lose it. I dragged my exhausted body to my cubicle. Tessa, my least favorite colleague, was there, already launching into her passive-aggressive commentary. “I knew she couldn’t have been hired for her competence. Must’ve gotten in on looks, not brains. Figured.” I was too drained to even snap back. I sank heavily into my desk chair. Even though Midnight_Investor promised to fix it, I felt I needed to revise the document again. I had to lighten his load. He was an adult; he surely had his own life and responsibilities. I worked until closing, kept thinking about it on my commute, and finished the final revisions at home that night. Only then did I send my redrafted version to my online love. He seemed to be online 24/7. He received the file immediately. Half an hour later, he sent an encouraging message. “Is this your first draft, baby? It’s a bit rough around the edges, but for a first attempt, it’s really good.” I wanted to cry until I was dry. “That’s my Nth revision. Am I really that bad?” He was silent for a full minute, then sent a massive barrage of hug emojis. “No, not bad! You’ve made huge progress. All that matters is your effort, baby.” “Don’t pay any attention to whatever your boss says. He clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just a miserable jerk who takes his own frustrations out on you.” Watching him curse out my boss with a cascade of angry emojis calmed my nerves again. “Thank you, my sweet boyfriend! I’m going to get some real sleep tonight.” It was the best night's sleep I’d had since starting the job. 4 My online love was incredibly reliable. When I woke up, there was a new document on my phone. Sent at 2:00 AM. The attached note: “Go get 'em, Wifey.” It was incredibly touching. My boss made me pull an all-nighter; I made my boyfriend pull one. I sent him a couple more kissing emojis, picked out an outfit, and headed to work. The moment I walked in, I heard Tessa’s loud, sneering voice. “Well, look who decided to show up, Gen Miller. Look at that face, that glow! Doesn’t look like she pulled an all-nighter, does it? Must’ve been sleeping with someone last night.” Tessa rolled her eyes, a look of malicious pleasure on her face. “Though, Mr. Shaw looks like he didn’t sleep well at all. He’s exhausted. Must have been up all night stewing over some people’s proposals.” I ignored her and headed to the printer to get the new file. But my silence only egged her on. “Off to generate more trash, Gen?” I gathered the printed sheets, ignored her completely, and walked toward Graham’s office. “Still too good for us? Watch out, you’re going to get yelled at and cry again!” 5 Graham genuinely looked like he hadn't slept. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be dragging toward his jawline. He rubbed his temples, his expression flat when he saw me. Graham Shaw was known for being utterly devoid of warmth; office lore claimed he was married only to his job and was possibly an emotionless robot. I carefully placed the proposal on his desk. He took it without expression and started reading. He looked up several times, his gaze fixed on me between reading the pages of the document. Finally, he read the last page. “Is this yours?” His voice, unbelievably, had a slight tremble.
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