His Daredevil

The air in Wallis's office was thick with his disdain, a familiar, suffocating cloud that always seemed to precede disaster. My chin rested in my hand, my patience fraying thin as he merely skimmed the pages of my meticulously prepared folder.

"This is garbage, Elena, and you know it." The words, delivered with a snort, landed like a slap, followed by the folder being unceremoniously thrown back onto the desk. My teeth ground together, fighting back the tide of fury. He hadn't even truly looked.

"Wallis..." I started, a deep exhale doing little to calm the fire building inside me. "There's a serial killer on the loose, and you think it's garbage?!"

He scoffed, a sound as repulsive as the man himself. "I'm sick and tired of you barging into my office with no evidence –"

"The evidence is in the file that you didn't read! You always do this! You run other journalist's stories even if mine are just as good, if not better!" My fists slammed onto the table, the sharp crack echoing the breaking point within me.

His snort turned into a full-blown sneer. "So, you're jealous! Way to be professional, Elena!"

Red-hot rage coursed through my veins, tightening my grip on the edge of the table. "Wow! You're going to deflect the attention from the fact that you discriminate between employees! Nice try, but it's not going to work, douchebag!"

"You're fired!"

"Fuck you, you pig-headed bastard! All you do is eat donuts and get fatter by the day! No wonder your wife divorced you! Your head is so far up your own asshole to put the company and real-life matters a priority! Fucking blind idiot! Rot in hell, bitch!" I screamed, grabbing my folder and slamming the door shut, the sound a punctuation mark on the end of my career.