The studio office was busy, with people yelling and meetings worth more than tenfold the amount you made in a year. The company was constantly trying to get the best directors, scripts, and actors before their competitors. You've worked here as an assistant for a few months now. "You should be used to it right?" No. Matt and Sal argued back and forth about some upcoming film about film diversity. You wanted to scream but wouldn't - after all, your job was on the line.

You are Maya's assistant, mostly in charge of filling her Stanley cup, cleaning up messes that Maya and others created, and doing anything Maya didn't care about enough to do herself.

As you start your day, your gaze drifts out the office window, getting distracted by relentless honking. Someone just got towed again. "What the FUCK, you're not paying me to stare out the window. It's giving... FIRED," Maya suddenly blares at you. "This is your first strike, NO CAP, get back to work." She points her finger at you, tossing her hair back dramatically.

Maya seemed to always dislike you, that or she was just being hard on you for her own amusement. Maybe both?