Chapter 1: Unconventional Hiring Process
Chapter Text
“Mr. Luthor’s philanthropic investments have recently come under fire, as I’m sure you’re aware. After the Luthor Pediatric Hospital was found to be mistreating its patients, he’s eager to increase oversight in these projects. These comprise an integral part of his brand.” Maria pushes a weighty file my way. “I’ve emailed these documents to your new corporate account, but I figured it might be easier to read physically.”
I swallow and grab the folder, sending her a grateful smile. It’s been quite the whirlwind this last week. I’d been the Nutrition Manager at the Metropolis Pantry for the past year and a half. Thousands of families reliant on aid, arranging the distribution of food from various grocery stores and wholesalers, maintaining a welcoming and safe pantry that prioritized both humanity and efficiency - it was an exhausting job. But so, so worth it. A career shift was not what I had planned. I stare at the first page of information brimming with corporate jargon. I think back to Tuesday, when I got… hired? Scouted? Completely stalked by a creepy CEO? Kinda all three.
I took a moment, running a hand over my face and donning that welcoming, open smile that I’d perfected over the years of working at the pantry. From volunteer to manager, it was truly a linear progression for me. I stepped onto the pantry floor. Two volunteers were stocking shelves. Brad - a perpetually tired man who’d finish his shift and turn right back around to pick up food. He’d been coming here every Wednesday for as long as I could remember. And a new kid, couldn’t be older than 20. Their nametag said Ajax in careful, rounded handwriting. They had a split dye - red and black, and distressed jeans. How quintessentially teenager. They were placing oranges on the display slowly, as if trying to stretch out this task. Laziness wasn’t my first thought, they wouldn’t have shown up 45 minutes before the shift even started if that was it.
My eyes scanned the room for Marisha. She must be in the back of the warehouse, sorting out today’s supply. Brad’s not a talker, so I don’t think anyone’s really let the kid know what to do yet. Easily rectified. I stepped up to them with a gentle smile. “I’ve always found that produce stocking is easier with a partner, that way we can pick up these heavy boxes.” I grabbed the end of the box and waited patiently for them to do the same. They startled slightly before nodding and lifting the box. We tipped it out onto the stand before smoothing out the pile and picking up the few fallen oranges. I turned to them. “Hi, I’m Rena, I manage this pantry. You must be a new volunteer! I’m so glad you’re here.”
Their nervous smile turned a little more genuine. “Yeah… I’m Ajax.” They replied quietly.
“Come on Ajax, let me show you around.” They followed behind me like a lost puppy. I didn’t blame them, the pantry was overwhelming your first couple times. They’re lucky they came early, before it devolved into a sort of barely restrained chaos. “We put the empty boxes here, so our guests can put their groceries in them, since we don’t have bags. This is the warehouse, if you notice we’re running out of something, you fill up one of these carts with the stuff and restock it. Our distribution manager can help you with that… why, speak of the devil, hey Marisha!”
Marisha turned towards me with an indulgent eye roll. “What you need? I’m busy, boss lady!”
I raised my eyebrows at her with a grin. She’s been working here for five years, much longer than my year of volunteering, six months as a receptionist, and then sudden promotion to manager a year and a half ago when the old manager was found guilty of skimming donations. I’m still not sure why the promotion happened, Kelly insisted that my competence outweighed any worries about my age or inexperience. At 22, I’d just finished college. Now 24, I’m still unsure.
“I just wanted to introduce you to our newest volunteer, Ajax. Marisha is the person to go to with any questions you have. And I mean any. She’s very particular.”
“Ah, you exaggerate!” Marisha hustled forward, appraising the volunteer. “Wiry, but you look strong. You strong?” Ajax nodded hesitantly as the Russian woman narrowed her eyes at them. “Good! You’ll do potatoes. Follow.” She whisked through the warehouse, ordering them to grab a cart. Ajax struggled to keep up. I shook my head while exhaling a laugh. She is the real backbone of this pantry, no question. I checked the time. We had ten volunteers signed up for today, but we’d be lucky if half showed up. No one bothered to cancel when they didn’t feel like coming anymore.
I walked briskly back to the store floor, seeing Brad working dutifully to stack cans. Lucy’d arrived too, and was putting meat in the freezer. Without gloves. I sighed and took off my own - good pleather gloves that came in handy with the cold. “Lucy!” The woman turned at her name and I chucked the gloves at her. “Give ‘em back when you’re done with the meat. No frostbite, it’s not allowed at the pantry.” She smiled sheepishly before tugging them on. She was much more efficient with the gloves on, too. Probably because her hands weren’t in danger of necrosis.
“How’s it going, Brad?” I asked, as I rapidly stacked boxes of pasta on the shelf neighboring his.
He gave a sort of non-committal grunt. Not necessarily out of character for him, but something about his vibe today had me worried. I didn’t have long to dwell on it, though, because the walkie attached to my hip buzzed with a transmission. I checked my watch. Precisely ten minutes to open. My hands stilled when I heard Kelly’s voice on the radio, “Rena, those gang boys are fighting in the parking lot again, I think they’re both carrying. You want me to call the cops?”
I looked at the pantry, it was almost finished being stocked. Ajax was staring at me, no longer focused on the frozen fruit they were putting in the freezer. Must have heard Kelly. I made eye contact with Marisha. “We’ll be no more than five minutes late opening, don’t worry. Just finish this up and explain volunteer roles. I’ll be back.” I turned on my heel and jogged down the hall.
I stopped at the front desk, where Kelly’s hand hovered over the phone. “Not yet. Let me see if I can handle this.” I pushed through the door where there was, indeed, tension thick in the air as two men stared each other down. One with a bloodied nose, the other smirking at him, with three people behind him that seemed to act as an entourage. The guests who’d been waiting in line to get in were mostly on the outskirts of the parking lot, or hovering with a sort of bloodthirsty curiosity. I heard the pantry door open behind me. My head whipped around. What in the world was Ajax doing here and not in the pantry? “Get inside, kid.” I hissed, before stepping towards them carefully. At least they weren’t fighting physically, though… yup the beat-up guy drew his gun.
Okay… I could remember their names, actually. The one who just drew his gun was Eddie, he comes in to help his mom with her groceries, since she only speaks Spanish. And the other one was Marco, his girlfriend comes in, they’ve got a newborn. I pulled out my stern voice. “Marco, Eddie, none of that on pantry property.” My words sounded calmer than I thought they would.
Eddie lost focus first, glancing away from Marco towards me. “Ms. Campbell?” He always does that, uses a title like I’m 40 instead of 24. “But we’re not in the pantry!”
Marco scowled, but didn’t pull his attention from Eddie. “This business don’t involve you, lady.” His hand rested on his hip.
I stepped forward again, hands out placatingly. “What happened? Eddie?”
He looked at me again, with those nervous, too-young eyes. “My brother stabbed his cousin, Romero. It’s revenge.” His hands shook as he held the gun. “But I’m not gonna die.”
Marco’s face paled a little bit. “We wasn’t gonna kill you! Just knock you around a bit, you’re the one that pulled the gun!” He fumbled a bit to grab his own pistol from his waistband. The little entourage looked antsy, when one of them backed away, the other two followed. “Now we gotta do this shit!”
My heartbeat seemed to triple in pace. These dumbass kids were going to kill each other. I didn’t really think, just ran in between them, arms outstretched, until one hand was open to Marco and one to Eddie, standing between the guns.
“What the fuck?”
I inhaled shakily. “Neither one of you wants to kill each other. And even if you did, you wouldn’t want to do it here, where there are cameras, and you’d go to jail for a real long time. You both hand me the guns at the same time instead of the ‘setting them on the ground’ bullshit.”
I stared at the sunrise above the parking lot, then at the Red Lobster across the street as the silence stretched. What the fuck was I thinking? Then Marco said a very quiet, “okay,” that I wasn’t even sure I heard.
Eddie heard it, though, and nodded. “Okay. On the count of three. One.” They made heavy eye contact, trying to sus out if the other meant it. “Two.” I took a deep breath, none of this felt real. “Three.” A gun in each hand. I pulled them towards me quickly.
“You get these back at the end of the day, no bullets. Now clear your heads, both of you. Opposite directions, go.” The authority in my voice surprised me, but what was even more surprising was that they complied, Eddie swallowing and full on sprinting away, towards that Red Lobster. Marco didn’t move until one of his friends from earlier clapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear. He looked at me. Ominous as fuck, but they walked away.
I turned towards the parking lot of spread out people, scared families protecting their kids, older folks that seemed unfazed. I projected my voice, still carrying that strange aura of authority that carried me through that situation. “I’d like to remind everyone that their conflicts are best sorted far away from the pantry! This can only work if it’s a safe space for all. With that being said,” I glanced at my watch. Right on track. “We open in six minutes. Feel free to return to the line.”
There was a general murmuring, as the tentative silence lifted from the guests. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in this part of town, but it was still scary when it happened. I turned to see Ajax leaning against the exterior wall with a sort of calmness they hadn’t exuded in the short time I’d seen them. Even stranger, once they caught my eye, their posture shifted, their hands fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. “Sorry, I didn’t go back in. I was just curious.” They walked inside with the anxious gait from before, but I suddenly found myself not trusting it. Could this day get any weirder?
It didn’t. Not until the very end, at least. I fell back into the normal routine, welcoming the guests with the Mr. Rogers vibe I try my best to embody. Helping new mothers into the back to find diapers. Settling minor conflicts between customers. Using my limited Arabic and Spanish to try and explain what the rutabagas we had stocked taste like. Guiding volunteers and cleaning and restocking. It came naturally now.
The eerie personality shift from Ajax didn’t happen again, and I wondered if I’d imagined it. They stayed past their volunteer shift ended, but I was never one to turn down an extra pair of hands. We closed the doors, every other volunteer had left.
I was sweeping the floor. Maybe they didn’t have a place to go? Or a ride home? I opened my mouth to ask, but they’d straightened, and were pulling off their hair? Oh, a wig. Wait, why? Beneath it there was a sleek brown bun.
“Ms. Campbell, LuthorCorp would like to offer you a job. A new philanthropic branch is opening, and Mr. Luthor is handpicking experienced professionals in the non profit field. You have shown yourself to be capable, and he would like to offer you the directorial position of the Luthor People’s Foundation.” They produced an envelope with a business card paperclipped to it. “Call that number by 5:00 pm with your answer. Have a good day.” Their voice was different, confident and clear. Not the mumbling from before. I stared at the envelope, dumbfounded.
“You were a spy??” I asked, much too late it seemed, because when I looked up, they were gone.
My answer, as it turned out, ‘was fuck it, we ball’. That is how I arrived here, parsing through paperwork about financial investments in the coolest building I’ve ever fricking seen, with my own office, and an assistant, and about forty thousand other things I never expected to experience. My mind is still spinning.
Chapter 2: Meet the Team
Notes:
This looks like it'll be a slower and slower burn each time I map it out.
But we get to meet Lex next chapter, so woohoo!
Chapter Text
I skim over the documents. Pretty straightforward, actually. We’ve got 250 million dollars, which doesn’t feel like a real number to me. I have 11 employees, including my new assistant, Jonas. He took one look at my frazzled demeanor and asked how I liked my coffee, so he’s not in the office right now.
It’s Monday, and I’ve been alerted that I’ll meet with upper management at 4:00 pm. We’re on a timeline, then. We have our own floor in the LuthorCorp building, with the other equally frazzled new hires setting up their desks in their cubicles, a conference room, and access to all the very expensive looking cafeteria and recreational facilities which we will not be indulging in until we get our shit together. I understand enough to hold a meeting, I decide, and leave my sparsely decorated office. Heads look up, and I clear my throat.
“Hey guys! I’m Rena Campbell, the newly appointed director of this department. I’m so excited to work with you all! We’re gonna have a meeting in 15 minutes in the conference room to introduce ourselves and work out a plan for these first few weeks.”
No one responds, so I just return to my office. Whew, that was scary. I think, to get my footing under me quickly, a meeting as soon as possible is necessary. I don’t know the levels of experience in that room, hopefully there’s some more business-focused people than me out there.
Jonas returns with my coffee and a wry grin, shaking out his hair from the rain outside. I like him already. “Did you leave to get coffee? I thought there was a coffee maker downstairs!”
He sets it on my desk. “Well, you said the Byron Cafe is your favorite, I didn’t feel like doing a subpar job on my first day.”
I grab it gratefully. “I don’t think that’s possible, you’re already doing way more than I expected just by existing. An assistant? This is all so crazy.”
He sits down in the chair across from me, shrugging off his jacket. “You’re telling me! I was just sitting in my geopolitics class, and then this girl I’ve been sitting behind all week turns around and hands me a card and says LuthorCorp would like to offer me a job.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Oh my gosh, so they did that to you, too! I wonder if everyone out there was just picked up off the street like that. Kinda creepy, to be honest.”
He nods, contemplatively. “There must be a reason. Maybe Luthor’s worried about corruption in his own people? Trying to avoid a repeat of that kids’ hospital thing.”
“You know, I bet you’re right! But no matter why they did this, we’ve got a super disconnected group of people to turn into a team. I set up a meeting for… five minutes from now. You think you can keep notes? Nothing crazy, just keeping tabs on the brainstorming stuff, maybe dynamics that are starting to show between these folks if you’re feeling frisky.”
“I like how you think.” He excitedly pulls out a LuthorCorp tablet. “They handed me this when I came in today, I love it so much!”
I look at it appreciatively. LuthorCorp’s tech focus is certainly something to keep in mind to maintain the company image. The tablet is sleek, shiny, a seeming symbol of the cutting edge. Jonas trails behind me as I walk into the conference room, trying to exhibit confidence where I don’t really feel any. The other eleven are already there, I saw them walk in from my office like a herd of nervous animals. I sit at the head of the table after a moment of nervous deliberation, motioning for my new assistant to sit beside me.
“Hey guys! Technically, everyone here is a new employee, so let’s go around and introduce ourselves with your name, current position, former position, and a hobby you have! I’ll go first.” A variety of looks are exchanged between the people sitting at the table, but I ignore them. Happy, peppy leadership, that’s what I’m going into this with. “I’m Rena, the new director of this philanthropic division. I used to be the manager of the Metropolis Pantry, and I love baking treats to share!”
I motion for Jonas to go next, trusting that he’ll go along with this cheesy exercise, at least. “I’m Jonas, I’m Ms. Campbell’s assistant.” There’s that title again, how old do I look? “I am a full time student at MU, and I used to work at a home improvement store. I golf sometimes.” Hmm, they really did pick him up out of nowhere. It must have been based on his success in school. I’ll have to ask him about his major.
The eyes in the room focus on the person next to Jonas expectantly. She seems a bit older than me, and fairly unimpressed by this whole situation. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail, and her tidy corporate outfit has me second guessing what I’m wearing, which is the most businessy thing in my wardrobe. I guess I’ll have to go shopping.
“My name is Lynn. I was the head of communications for the R&D department, and now I have the same job for you. I… read.” Her voice is cold, but I understand why. She must view this as a demotion. I mean, I’m not sure she’s wrong about that, moving to work for our little fledgling division. She’ll be an asset, if I can actually get her on my side.
More introductions follow, most everyone seems surprisingly young and inexperienced. But I have faith in this little group. We’ve got three folks that have worked for LuthorCorp longer than a week, that’s Lynn, Steve, and Tommy. Steve seems a bit more excited for this job than the other two, but he has a humanitarian background. Lynn seems to be more of a babysitter, here to ensure we represent the company name well. We’ve got three kids in college: Jonas, Sasha, and Liam. I suspect they won’t be in as often as the rest.
I rise, grabbing a dry-erase marker and standing at the whiteboard. “Okay, here’s the situation. Our budget for the foreseeable future is 250 million dollars. We need to invest a good chunk of that if we want to stay up and running. Sasha?”
Her head perks up, surprised to be called out. “Yeah?”
“I saw some of your graduate research in your file, you seem to have an eye for investigating the dirt on big corporations. Google, WayneTech, Burger King, you’ve predicted most of the big fallouts in the past couple years. I want you to reach out to someone from finance to help create a five-year investment plan which avoids companies which you predict will have scandals in that timeframe. Lynn, do you have a recommendation on who she should touch base with first?”
Lynn crosses her arms, but seems a little pleased to have her expertise come into play. “Benny Jacobs handles most long-term investments, ask him about his kids and he’ll warm right up to you.”
Sasha nods hurriedly, scribbling down notes on a pad of paper. I write ‘Sasha - Investments’ on the board. “Alright! Now we’ll need initiatives to focus on, with emphasis on the LuthorCorp image for now. We can do more subtle things once we’ve recovered the company image a bit. For the sake of teambuilding… I’m gonna number you off, and we’ll break into groups. Work with your team to create an initiative by noon. It needs to be doable within the next month, look good in pictures, and keep with the LuthorCorp brand. Any questions?”
I struggle to remember her name as she raises her hand. Connie? She was working at a homeless outreach program before coming here. “Do you want us to type out a report, or just have it ready verbally?”
Ohh, her name’s Cathy! I think for a moment. “Go ahead and type it out so I’ve got something going into my meeting this afternoon. It doesn’t need to look formal, just general budget and material estimates, people and organizations to reach out to, that sort of thing. I don’t expect anyone to be an expert at this right now, most of us don’t come from business backgrounds. Just try to include what you think will be helpful.”
After no one else asks a question, I number them off, including one of the LuthorCorp people in each group, hoping they can keep the ideas aligned with the company. I leave Sasha, Jonas, and I out of it, since we’ll be focused on other things. “Feel free to use this floor or any of the communal spaces in the building, meeting dismissed!” The groups warily approach each other, murmuring about where they should move to make their plans. They’ve got three and a half hours until their proposals are due, which is, admittedly, not that much time. I want to refine them or make new ones if necessary before my meeting, though.
I stride out of the room with Jonas on my heels, rubbing a hand over my face. Hopefully they work together well. This is overwhelming. Everyone in there seems capable, though, ready to find their footing on the move.
I sit back down at my desk. Jonas shuts the door behind him and sits at his new spot across from me. I stare at the room for a moment as he looks through his notes. Exceedingly modern, with a black marble desktop and various shades of gray adorning the walls. Not my style at all, though if I can manage to keep this job, maybe I can make it a bit homier. I have a new company computer which I’ve barely touched, and a killer view of the city out the window. We’re on the 32nd floor, which seems made-up.
“What’s your college major?” I break the silence, staring at him curiously.
His chestnut hair flops into his eyes when he looks up, and he moves it out of his way with a sigh. “Sociology.”
Now that’s interesting. An understanding of group dynamics could really help once we start interacting with the community. But it could also be helpful with, “What’d you notice between the group out there? Who seemed eager to work together versus not?”
He opens his mouth to reply, but the phone on the desk starts ringing. We both stare at it for a second, before he reaches forward and picks it up with a shaking hand. “Good morning, this is Rena Campbell’s office. This is Jonah speaking, how may I assist you?”
Damn he’s really good for never having been an assistant before. Though, from the short impression I’ve gotten of him, I bet he researched thoroughly before coming here. Maybe I should have researched more.
I can’t hear what the other person says, but Jonas replies with a, “Yep! Just let me check her schedule…” He literally does nothing, just sits for a few moments. I struggle to stifle my giggle. “Yes, that should do just fine. Thank you, have a good day!” He hangs up and slouches over, putting his hands on the desk. I lean towards him worriedly. “Ohmygoshthatwassoscary. That was Lex freaking Luthor’s personal assistant! He wants to see you at noon!”
I suddenly understand his anxiety. “What? Why? But we don’t even have a plan yet! Ughhh.” I grab the file I was handed, eyes skimming the pages again. I know what our job is, but I don’t have anything near a plan yet. I cannot go into that office unprepared. “I don’t want to panic the others, they’re already on a tight timeline as it is.” I run a hand through my hair, shaking out the curls.
Jonas’s eyes widen at my clear anxiety. He’s probably right, this isn’t very convincing leadership. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Maybe he just wants to meet you, talk to you! I mean, his assistant didn’t say anything about having a presentation ready, that would be a crazy fast turnaround. You are the director, maybe he just has expectations to express for the division.”
I take a deep breath, looking at Jonas with a little bit of awe. “You are the best assistant in the history of the world, calling it now. You’re right, four hours in on the first day is not the time to present a whole plan.” I set down the file, turning around to face the window. “But good lord, I am stressed anyway.”
Chapter Text
I check in with all three teams at 10:00, though tracking them down is a bit of a task. Tommy’s group, who informed me that their group name was “The Winners” (it seems they’ve turned these proposals into a bit of a competition) stayed by the cubicles, so it’s easy enough to check on them. They’re basing their idea around Liam’s experience with his college community garden. A LutherCorp community gardening initiative which ‘just so happens’ to be placed around the other Metropolis hospitals, teaching kids there how to garden. That way LuthorCorp is portrayed in a positive manner with sick kids again without addressing the scandal directly. I like it.
I find Lynn’s group camped out by the cereal bar in one of the communal spaces. I remember Charlotte worked for Doctors Without Borders; she’s digging into a bowl of Lucky Charms with gusto. Lynn looks entirely focused on typing out their plan, which is in line with what I expected from her. And Denise, who I believe was plucked out of a farming commune, is talking animatedly at Lynn, I say ‘at’ because Lynn is giving no sign she’s actually listening.
“How’s it going over here?”
Lynn doesn’t look up, but Denise stands and greets me excitedly. “Hi Rena! It’s going great, we’re figuring out these really cool water bottles with straws that make the water drinkable! We can put big brand stickers on them and give them to homeless people in Metropolis for the image issue!”
I don’t think she took a breath that entire time. Her curly red hair, faded green t-shirt, and bell bottom jeans all seem to match the vibe that she time travelled here from the 70s. I smile at her and give her a thumbs-up. “Good job, that sounds really promising! Do you guys know where I can find Steve’s group?”
Charlotte sets her spoon down and furrows her brow, thinking. When she speaks, her voice is soft and melodical. “I feel like Max was talking about maybe heading outside.”
“Oh, cool. Thanks!”
As I make my way back to the elevator, Lynn calls out after me. “Try the park on Vine street! Steve does work there when he can.” I give her a grateful smile in return and hit the button for the ground floor. I left Jonas in the office to hold down the fort, and glance at my phone in surprise when I see he’s texted. That reminds me, I should set up a groupchat with everybody.
‘ur meeting got moved up to 11, i didnt say no cause his assistant scares meeeee’
I check the time on my phone. It’s 10:30, hopefully this park isn’t too far away. I send a quick ‘okay’ back, and basically sprint out the elevator when the doors open. I refuse to be late for this meeting, so I better find the other group quick. Hopefully Lynn’s right about that park.
I find it fast enough, it’s only a couple blocks away from the building, and I wore sensible shoes. The only problem, as it turns out, is that a towering green… thing decided now is the time to descend upon Metropolis. It has beady black eyes, and four arms it is currently using to throw a park bench at the gathered group of people.
They scatter, screams getting louder as I run closer. Where are Steve, Clyde, and Max? My eyes scan the crowd as I slow to a stop, trying to come up with a plan. I don’t have the time to deal with these freaking metahumans. Where’s that Superman guy when you need him?
“Rena! Over here!” There they are, huddled with their LutherCorp tablets and ruffled business casual outfits around a fallen awning. Clyde and Steve are, at least. I don’t see Max until I get closer, his leg is pinned by the metal of the awning while the others try to lift it off him. And Clyde’s yell just alerted the beast to our location.
I pick up a piece of fallen rebar from a street sign, wielding it like a spear. This cannot be the reason I’m late to that damn meeting, Luthor’s wrung necks for less. Luckily, as I watch the thing lumber towards us, I notice that its flesh doesn’t seem especially impenetrable. If I just wedge it in that soft looking spot between its ribs…
Oh, now that Superman finally deigns to show up, just as things are getting exciting. Fine, I’m sure his pride means he won’t let any civilians get hurt under his watch.
“Steve, grab that chunk of concrete over there. Yeah, that big one, brute force is clearly not working.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise, but he complies, dragging the concrete to our little huddle as Clyde’s arms strain to lift the metal awning.
I motion where Steve should place the rock. I wedge the end of my signpost under the ridge of the awning, angling the other side on top of the concrete. Max lets out a pained groan, writhing on the ground. Great, he’s alive. “Okay you two, help me push down on the signpost. You too, Clyde. Come on, let’s get leverage.”
We push, hard. It isn’t until I’m practically hanging on the end of the rebar that it lifts enough for Max to drag his injured leg out of the way. The awning falls back down with a clatter, my hands bloodied from how hard I was gripping the metal. Hopefully we’re all up to date on our tetanus shots.
I see Superman pressing the monster’s head into the ground, finally subdued. Good. I crouch by Max, quickly assessing the damage to his leg. A crazy bruise is already blooming around the area of impact, but he’s not bleeding much. He might have broken it, but I don’t know much about how to stabilize that. All three of the boys are looking at me. Waiting for me to tell them what to do, I realize. “Wait for the ambulance, I’m sure they’re on their way already. I have a meeting with Mr. Luthor in like,” I glance at my phone, “less than ten minutes, so I’ve got to literally book it if we want this department to stick around for tomorrow.” I stand briskly, giving Max a worried once over. He hasn’t said a word, his skin is pale and shining sweat. Maybe he’s in shock. “You’ll be okay, Max. We’ll visit you after work.”
With that, I sprint back down the street. It’s 10:54. I rush past Superman, who does a double take as I pass him in the middle of helping a young boy find his mother. I must look unhinged, in my now slightly torn blouse, covered in rust and grease, running through what’s basically a battlefield like what I am - an employee about to be late for a very important meeting. I zero in on the imposing skyscraper with singular focus. The Metropolis bustle seems especially bothersome as I dart my way through it, catching stares and occasional shoves.
I burst through the glass doors and beeline for the elevator, just making it in with a handful of others. I jam my thumb into the button for floor 100, smoothing out my hair with a shaking hand. It’s 10:57.
Could this elevator move any slower? People leave like the world slows down for them. They get on even slower, adding stops to the already incredibly long trip to the 100th floor. We’ve made it to floor 56. It’s 10:58.
Floor 98. It’s 10:59. I adjust my shirt, trying to wipe away the oily stains before realizing I’m just adding blood to the mix. I heave a sigh and tuck my hands into the pockets of my pants. This meeting is begging to be a disaster is the only thought in my mind as the doors open at precisely 11:00.
I encounter the assistant who Jonas had been so intimidated by. She’s precise and sleek, just like the company she works for. Unlike me. “Hello, I have a meeting with Mr. Luthor…”
She looks up with a bit of disdain. “You’re his eleven o’clock? You’re late.” I don’t bother to argue the point as she presses a button on her desk. “Take a… never mind, he’ll see you now.” She motions towards the rather imposing metal door that has just slid open.
I enter quickly, trying not to be more tardy than I already am. The office is grand, with large windows overlooking the city. What strikes me isn’t the interior design, though, but the man whose bald head is currently staring me down with the cool grace of someone entirely unfazed by most things in life. And yes, the first thing I can think is that he’s bald, I don’t have the decorum I should, okay?
He doesn’t say anything, so I walk further into the room, until I’m standing across from his desk, but not sitting in the chair across from him. “Hello, I’m Rena Campbell. I was recently hired to be-”
He cuts me off, his voice measured and smooth. “I know who you are, Ms. Campbell. Sit.”
I slide into the chair across from him, trying to quiet my adrenaline.
He tilts his head, lacing his fingers in front of him. “Why do you think I hired you?” He emphasizes the word ‘you’ like it personally offended him.
My mind races. What is he fishing for? “Uh, for my experience in non profit work?”
He waves a hand dismissively. “There were 132 candidates with more experience than you.” He looks at me expectantly.
Okay, a better reason. “My ties to the community?” My voice is shaking. I internally curse myself for being this intimidated. But a little voice in the back of my mind reasons that he’s probably earned this much fear, that his reputation is bloodier than it looks on paper.
A disappointed sigh, before he turns on some kind of hologram behind him, not bothering to look to make sure it’s playing the right video. I see the pantry parking lot, this is the security camera footage of that day I stood between Marco and Eddie. Wait, it’s too high resolution and low to the ground to be a security camera. It must have been hidden on Ajax, the LuthorCorp spy. I watch myself convince them to give me their weapons. I look braver in the footage than I felt, more in control.
Suddenly, the footage changes. Mr. Luthor leans forward slightly, his icy blue eyes focused on my reaction as it changes to an actual security camera from the park. I brandish the signpost like a sword before Superman swoops in and yanks the beast back.
I look away from his little display with some effort. “Because I have a talent for finding myself in violent situations?”
A ghost of a smile passes over his lips. “As charming as that little quirk is, no. I hired you for your control under pressure.” He turns off the footage without breaking eye contact. His voice drops to a more conversational tone as he leans back. “With that being said, what is your impression of your new department?”
I take a deep breath, relieved that the topic has shifted to a more predictable one. “I think you are taking a very noble initiative, Mr. Luthor. The team is already working together wonderfully, and-”
He holds up a hand, silencing me. “I didn’t ask for the press-ready breakdown. All this-” He waves his hand around vaguely, propping his (I’m sure incredibly expensive) leather shoes on the glossy black desk as he searches for the words, “philanthropy bullshit has done me more harm than good. It’s clearly your shtick, so convince me. Why did my advisors force me to dump more money into Samaritanism?”
Ah. We’re back in rocky waters, I see. Well, I never thought meeting with the tech billionaire of Metropolis was gonna be easy. I lean towards him, refusing to back down, despite the grossness of his feet being on the desk. “Speaking of being press-ready, Mr. Luthor, your last attempt at charity ended with 43 traumatized cancer patients at your pediatric hospital. Its very overt unauthorized medical testing on children is why this is necessary. As well as the need to meet the public expectation of the ‘one percent’ giving back to the community. If you would like to continue meddling in the affairs of Boravia, you’ll need public backing. That’s what the ‘Samaritanism’ of my new department offers you. You’ll also gain the long term benefit of indebting the disenfranchised population of Metropolis to you. LuthorCorp needs honey along with its vinegar.”
The slow smile that spreads across his face reminds me of a cat. It is also not what I expected after my brash outburst. “You’ve just doubled your budget. Now go, before I reconsider all the times you insulted me in that little speech.” He makes a dismissive gesture, and I nod quickly, basically running out of the room. Holy shit, that was scary. But went well? I think?
Notes:
Am I just stalling at this point? Why is the story moving so slowwwwww
Apokalypse on Chapter 2 Fri 29 Aug 2025 09:17PM UTC
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Apokalypse on Chapter 3 Fri 29 Aug 2025 09:28PM UTC
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