Author’s note: This is chapter 8 of my spoiler series, ‘My So-Called Life’. It’s based on the few B/J spoilers we have for season 3 and it’s told entirely in Justin’s POV. Many thanks for the feedback, especially from all my fellow Justin fans. I appreciate it more than you know.

The Job

by Cathy

‘I think you should take it.’ Daphne announced.

‘Excuse me, but I don’t recall asking for your opinion.’ I knew she’d get around to talking about this; I just didn’t think it would be so soon.

‘Since when did I ever wait for you to actually *ask* me about anything? If I did that, I’d never get to give you advice.’ She was smiling, but I knew she wasn’t through lecturing me yet. ‘Stir the sauce.’ I did as I was told.

I’d come home from the interview in a bad mood. Not because of anything that had happened. Between Cynthia and Robin, I was convinced that I was perfect for the job, but I was also convinced that it would be a mistake to work at Brian’s agency. It would just be too complicated.

Daphne must have anticipated how I’d feel because she walked in right behind me, her arms full of grocery bags. She didn’t want to go out to eat, she said, so we were going to cook spaghetti. She started pulling out pots and pans while I grabbed two beers out of the fridge.

‘Don’t think I’m not grateful for your concern, but it’s really none of your business, Daph.’

‘Of *course*, it’s my business.’ She looked up from chopping peppers and mushrooms and onions. ‘You’re my best friend, Justin, and you’re upset about this. We have to talk about this so I can help you make your decision.’

‘I’m not upset,’ I lied. ‘And there’s nothing to talk about.’ I wouldn’t look at her. ‘My decision is made.’

‘Okay, whatever.’ She rolled her eyes at me. Neither of us said anything for several minutes. Daphne broke the silence. ‘Are you going to take it?’

‘No. It would be too weird… Knowing that he was in the same building…’

‘What kind of job is it?’ She stirred spaghetti into boiling water.

‘What?’ I didn’t hear the question. I guess I was still thinking about Brian.

‘What would you be doing?’ She asked, slowly.

‘Oh.’ She was actually asking about the job. ‘Whatever they needed me to do; not much drawing, probably, but I’d still learn a lot, I think.’ She didn’t answer me right away and I continued, ‘The salary was more than I expected…’

‘Salary? There’s a salary?’ I nodded. ‘I thought it was an internship.’

‘A *paid* internship.’ I shrugged. ‘And they asked for me by name. If I don’t take the job, no one will get it.’

‘Shit!’ Daphne stared at me. ‘Are you sure Brian--’

‘Cynthia said he didn’t know anything about it.’

Daphne dipped some of the sauce onto a spoon and held it out to me. ‘Tell me what you think.’

I tasted it. ‘It’s hot!’ I licked my lips. ‘But it’s not bad.’

She nodded. ‘We can eat as soon as the spaghetti’s done.’ I grabbed two more beers and opened them. ‘Listen, Justin…’ I waited for her next barrage of unsolicited advice. ‘You know I only want the best for you…’

‘Yes.’ I laughed.

‘Would you do me a favor and make your decision based on what *you* want to do?’ I must have looked confused. ‘Don’t make yourself crazy worrying what Brian would think about it. Do what’s best for you, okay?’

It always took me by surprise when Daphne got all caring and concerned about me. Luckily, it didn’t happen often. ‘Okay.’ I grabbed her in a brief hug. ‘When can we eat? I’m starving.’

‘You can set the table.’ She started getting ready to serve our dinner.

*&*&*&*&*

It was almost two p.m. on Monday when I walked into the lobby of the Vanguard Agency. I’d thought about what Daphne said about basing my decision on what was best for me. I decided to stop looking over my shoulder. It was time to get on with my life.

My first day was taken up with meeting my co-workers and going over policies and procedures. Robin said that our department was the most laid back place in the building, but I still had to hear about the dress code and authorized smoking areas and who to call when I was sick and couldn’t come in.

Despite all my fears, the first day was remarkably un-traumatic. I learned to use the copier, the fax machine and the color printer. And I never had to leave the basement. Afterwards, as I walked to the bus stop, I decided that I’d made the right decision.

*&*&*&*&*

I’d been working at my new job for several weeks when Sam, one of the supervisors, asked me to help him set up a display in one of the conference rooms. I told him I hadn’t done that kind of thing before but he said it didn’t matter. He just needed someone to help him carry the easel upstairs. The meeting was supposed to start in five minutes and we had to move fast. So we did.

By the time we arrived in the room, there were people there. I glanced around, making sure Brian wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t.

We set to work assembling the parts of the display as quickly as we could. ‘Shit!’ I heard Sam swear under his breath.

‘What’s wrong?’ I was holding up one end of the easel.

‘I didn’t bring enough screws for both sides,’ he answered.

‘I’ll go down and get them.’ I knew we didn’t have much time.

‘That’s okay, I’ll get them.’ He finished tightening the screw on his side. ‘I’m not sure where they are.’

‘What--’ I was beginning to panic. I definitely didn’t want to stay there by myself.

‘It’s okay - I’ll be back in two minutes. Don’t let that side fall.’

I silently watched him walk hurriedly out of the room. While I waited, I started straightening the presentation on the display board. Not that it needed straightening, but I didn’t want to stand there with nothing to do.

‘Is this your presentation?’ I glanced around to see who was speaking. A middle-aged man stood beside me, looking down at me. He was kinda short and round and bald and he had an odd grin on his face.

‘N-no,’ I said, quietly. No one had told me to keep my mouth shut, but I didn’t think I was supposed to talk. ‘I-I’m just helping set it up.’

‘Um-huh.’ He nodded as he took a step closer. He stopped staring at me long enough to look at what was displayed on the easel. ‘It’s very colorful; catches your eye, don’t you think?’ I nodded. ‘Except that color,’ he pointed. ‘Is it chartreuse? Fuchsia?’

‘Mauve. I think.’

‘That’s right! Mauve. It doesn’t really fit there, does it?’

I didn’t think I could get away with not saying anything else. I wanted this conversation over with as soon as possible. ‘I think it was chosen *because* it clashes with the surrounding colors. It’s supposed to attract attention.’

He stared at the board once more, nodding slightly. ‘You might be right.’ He looked back at me. ‘I’m Frank Martin.’ He held out his hand. ‘I didn’t get your name.’

I tried to smile. ‘Justin!’

Before I had a chance to open my mouth, my name was spoken by someone who was standing behind me. I recognized the voice immediately.

It was Brian.

I froze.

‘May I have a word with you?’ His voice dripped with politeness because the other man - I guess he was a client - was still within earshot. ‘Outside?’

I opened my mouth to answer him, to tell him that I couldn’t go with him because I was holding the easel together. Sam walked up just then. ‘It’s okay, Justin. I’ve got it.’

I moved quickly to the door of the conference room and looked outside. Brian had walked ahead of me and was already halfway down the hallway, unaware that I wasn’t right behind him.

By the time I caught up with him, he was around the corner. He turned toward me, a murderous look on his face. ‘Didn’t anyone tell you not to talk to the clients?’ I shook my head but I didn’t have time to say anything. ‘You’re an *intern*, Justin. No one gives a fuck about what you have to say about color, or anything else.’

He stopped to take a breath and I took the opportunity to speak. ‘He started the conversation, not me. I was just trying to be pleasant--’

‘Nobody gives a fuck! Do you hear me?’ His face was near mine. ‘If you hadn’t been wiggling your ass at him, he’d never have said anything to you in the first place!’

Wiggling my ass? I didn’t know what he was talking about. ‘Wait a minute, Brian--’

‘No! *You* wait a minute! You were hired without my knowledge. When I found out about it, I told Cynthia that you could work here as long as you stayed the fuck out of my way and kept your goddamned mouth shut, neither of which you’ve done.’

He paused for another breath and I took the opportunity to speak. ‘I’m really sorry…’ I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I wasn’t sorry, because I didn’t think I had anything to be sorry for.

‘You know, I don’t want to hear you say that word again.’ His voice had softened a little. ‘Ever.’

‘Okay.’ I thought he wanted me to say something else to him, but I had no idea what. ‘Well, I guess I’d better get back in there and help Sam--’

‘No.’ That one word stopped me in my tracks. ‘Get the fuck out of here.’

‘What?’ The word escaped before I knew it.

‘You’re fired. I want you out of this building. Immediately.’ Turning, he walked back toward the conference room and he didn’t look back.