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Description
Beyond the darkness of the office, a single lamp light cast long shadows. Another late night. Dawn was threatening to rise on the horizon, the clacking of keyboard keys disrupting the silence. How dare they spring such a sudden event on the ambassador. With a mere 24 hours, security still had to be arranged, along with a car and a hotel room or two. At least the speech was done. A short, succinct piece of literature. Granted, it wasn’t his best work, but at least it was better than no speech. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance, trying to get the gelatinous feeling from his eyes. God… when did he sleep last? Eat? Drink? He needed a break. He stood up from his desk, clutching a couple of crinkled dollars in his hands. Maybe a candy bar would give him the energy he needed to stay awake through the night.
“Out of order?!” He grimaced at the sign taped to the vending machine. He’d have to get some actual food. He went to his office, grabbed his keys and his trench coat, then walked to the car. He stepped out into the cold winter night, snowflakes gently landing on the shoulders of his coat. Snow crunched under his leather shoes, leaving faint footprints in the light dusting of white. He opened the car door and silently slid in, closing the door behind him with a dull thud. With a turn of the key, the car came to life, a thin trail of exhaust rising up from the tailpipe. He put the car into gear and it started rolling towards the front gate.
The car rolled along the city street; snowflakes melting against the windshield. He flicked the wipers, clearing the view. He yawned again. His stomach rumbled in protest as he passed yet another drive-thru. He knew where he was going, and it would be worth the wait. He pulled into a strip mall, the black SUV standing out from all the other vehicles. He stepped out, the flickering neon sign reflecting off his weary eyes as the smell of wonton soup wafted out from a glass door. God bless 24 hour restaurants. He stumbles through the door, sitting at a faded green booth. A waiter, a middle aged man of asian descent wearing a grimy apron smiled at him.
“Good evening. Can I get the Dragon Phoenix and a sprite?” The waiter nodded and walked off. He leaned back in his chair with an inaudible groan. He was only 35, yet he felt as old as Time himself sometimes. He shuffled some papers on the table, looking down at the schedule in front of him. It would be a hectic day when it finally arrived, he realized. There was only an hour here or there for downtime. He scribbled notes in the margin, creating a quasi schedule of his own. 5:30; wake up. 6:15; breakfast. The team needed to leave the hotel by 7:00, and arrive at the palace at 9:00. If traffic wasn’t too bad, he could probably prep the ambassador for her speech. The ceremony lasted until 5:00. Both the ambassador and her bodyguards would be sick and tired of the pompous atmosphere by then. He’d have to schedule something for th-
His internal monologue was stopped by a plate of chicken, shrimp, and rice set in front of him. He quickly shuffled his papers into one pile and smiled at the waiter, thanking him. The nodded and walked away. He took a bite of the glazed chicken, feeling the peppery sauce already inflame his throat and soothe his hunger. He slowed his chewing after his third piece, in an attempt to savor the spicy, yet sweet flavor of the chicken. He sipped his Sprite, sighing in relief as the carbonated liquid quenched his roaring thirst. The bubbles tickled the soft palette of his mouth as he took in the gentle citrus after taste. He set his glass down silently and continued eating. As always, the food was amazing. And it was quick. He had lost count of the number of times he had grabbed a lunch or a dinner here between meetings with politicians, security councils, or consuls from other nations. He kept trying to tell himself that his job was changing the world, making it better for cohabitantance, but it still irked him that he got little credit for all his hard work.The ambassador always got the credit. Of course, that was completely fair. She worked just as hard as anyone, if not harder to allow monsters to live on the surface. Still, no one had questioned his commitment to the embassy, or the ambassador, so why were these thought plaguing him? He shook his head. Must be the spicy chicken. He took a few more bites, scooping his rice and dipping it in the sauce. He soon finished his meal and paid his check, shivering as he walked out into the cold winter night.
Christmas was over, and the new year had just started. Christmas decorations had been taken down mostly, except for the occasional strand of tinsel, or rope of lights. He drove on, his car silently accelerating towards the embassy. He turned into the drive, parking his car and stepping back into his warm office. Nothing seemed out of place, but he still felt nervous, like someone had moved something small and insignificant. He sat at his desk, sighing. He took out his papers, returning to his work. 3:30AM. He could kiss sleep goodbye. He worked through the night, finishing just before sunrise. The ambassador would be in soon, and she would have a full day ahead of her. He stole a quick shower in the bathroom and changed his suit. He sat back down in his desk just in time to hear the nagging voice of one of her bodyguards. He continued working at his desk until the door opened, and a gentle tapping caught his attention. He looked up to read her hands.
*Good morning, Advisor.
“Hmm? Good morning, Ambassador.”
*You weren’t here again all night, were you?
“Of course not. I just arrived a few moments before you.”
*I see. Well, we have a busy day today, yes? I shall meet you downstairs in an hour.
She walked out, the echo of her footsteps fading away to the bustle of the office. He stared down at his desk, smiling faintly. What was he thinking? Of course he get credit. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out the fortune cookie, opening the wrapper and holding it in his hands. He cracks the cookie open and reads the fortune, laughing to himself as he does.
“It’s amazing how much good you can do if you don’t care who gets the credit.”

The bumpy car ride was a disaster. Traffic was horrible, making the 30 minute drive to the chapel take almost 3 hours. Luckily, on the way there, he was able to verse the ambassador on her speech. It was harder than it seemed.
“No no, ambassador. Please, it’s “The prime minister was a honorable man, who worked hard to help monster kind find a place on the surface.””
“But Grayson… do you not realize that is a lie? He was one of the strongest opposers to our cause.”
“It’s called being political, ambassador Frisk. We don’t wish to stir up old conflicts at such a public ceremony.”
She huffed and murmured to herself as she read the speech. Grayson sighed and leaned back, running his hand over his combed hair. Ambassador Frisk was a challenge to work with, but she always listened to reason. Eventually.
The slick black car stopped in front of the cathedral, a crowd of people dressed in black already gathered. The Ambassador was the first of many influential people to speak during the ceremony.
“The Prime Minister was a good friend to many of us, myself included. While he shall be missed, I know he is in a better place.”
The ambassador’s last line had echoed through the cathedral, with help of the sound system. For a tense moment, the audience was silent. Grayson held his breath, The crowd broke into thunderous applause, disguising the sigh of relief he released from his lungs. She had done it. She had managed to disguise her true emotions long enough for the speech, and the press was eating it up. She stepped down from the podium, straightening her suit jacket and walking out. He knew that she would get restless.
As they entered the car, she threw the notes to the speech away.
“I am so glad that is over.”
“I know you are, Ambassador Frisk.”
“Where to now?”
“Lunch, and then we’ll meet your security team to unwind a little.”
“Sounds lovely, Advisor Grayson. Where did you have in mind?
“A little chinese restaurant I’ve been meaning to take you to.”
The car rolled off silently, weaving it’s way through the traffic. Grayson leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, smiling to himself.

It’s amazing how much good you can do if you don’t care who gets the credit.

Description
Beyond the darkness of the office, a single lamp light cast long shadows. Another late night. Dawn was threatening to rise on the horizon, the clacking of keyboard keys disrupting the silence. How dare they spring such a sudden event on the ambassador. With a mere 24 hours, security still had to be arranged, along with a car and a hotel room or two. At least the speech was done. A short, succinct piece of literature. Granted, it wasn’t his best work, but at least it was better than no speech. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance, trying to get the gelatinous feeling from his eyes. God… when did he sleep last? Eat? Drink? He needed a break. He stood up from his desk, clutching a couple of crinkled dollars in his hands. Maybe a candy bar would give him the energy he needed to stay awake through the night.
“Out of order?!” He grimaced at the sign taped to the vending machine. He’d have to get some actual food. He went to his office, grabbed his keys and his trench coat, then walked to the car. He stepped out into the cold winter night, snowflakes gently landing on the shoulders of his coat. Snow crunched under his leather shoes, leaving faint footprints in the light dusting of white. He opened the car door and silently slid in, closing the door behind him with a dull thud. With a turn of the key, the car came to life, a thin trail of exhaust rising up from the tailpipe. He put the car into gear and it started rolling towards the front gate.
The car rolled along the city street; snowflakes melting against the windshield. He flicked the wipers, clearing the view. He yawned again. His stomach rumbled in protest as he passed yet another drive-thru. He knew where he was going, and it would be worth the wait. He pulled into a strip mall, the black SUV standing out from all the other vehicles. He stepped out, the flickering neon sign reflecting off his weary eyes as the smell of wonton soup wafted out from a glass door. God bless 24 hour restaurants. He stumbles through the door, sitting at a faded green booth. A waiter, a middle aged man of asian descent wearing a grimy apron smiled at him.
“Good evening. Can I get the Dragon Phoenix and a sprite?” The waiter nodded and walked off. He leaned back in his chair with an inaudible groan. He was only 35, yet he felt as old as Time himself sometimes. He shuffled some papers on the table, looking down at the schedule in front of him. It would be a hectic day when it finally arrived, he realized. There was only an hour here or there for downtime. He scribbled notes in the margin, creating a quasi schedule of his own. 5:30; wake up. 6:15; breakfast. The team needed to leave the hotel by 7:00, and arrive at the palace at 9:00. If traffic wasn’t too bad, he could probably prep the ambassador for her speech. The ceremony lasted until 5:00. Both the ambassador and her bodyguards would be sick and tired of the pompous atmosphere by then. He’d have to schedule something for th-
His internal monologue was stopped by a plate of chicken, shrimp, and rice set in front of him. He quickly shuffled his papers into one pile and smiled at the waiter, thanking him. The nodded and walked away. He took a bite of the glazed chicken, feeling the peppery sauce already inflame his throat and soothe his hunger. He slowed his chewing after his third piece, in an attempt to savor the spicy, yet sweet flavor of the chicken. He sipped his Sprite, sighing in relief as the carbonated liquid quenched his roaring thirst. The bubbles tickled the soft palette of his mouth as he took in the gentle citrus after taste. He set his glass down silently and continued eating. As always, the food was amazing. And it was quick. He had lost count of the number of times he had grabbed a lunch or a dinner here between meetings with politicians, security councils, or consuls from other nations. He kept trying to tell himself that his job was changing the world, making it better for cohabitantance, but it still irked him that he got little credit for all his hard work.The ambassador always got the credit. Of course, that was completely fair. She worked just as hard as anyone, if not harder to allow monsters to live on the surface. Still, no one had questioned his commitment to the embassy, or the ambassador, so why were these thought plaguing him? He shook his head. Must be the spicy chicken. He took a few more bites, scooping his rice and dipping it in the sauce. He soon finished his meal and paid his check, shivering as he walked out into the cold winter night.
Christmas was over, and the new year had just started. Christmas decorations had been taken down mostly, except for the occasional strand of tinsel, or rope of lights. He drove on, his car silently accelerating towards the embassy. He turned into the drive, parking his car and stepping back into his warm office. Nothing seemed out of place, but he still felt nervous, like someone had moved something small and insignificant. He sat at his desk, sighing. He took out his papers, returning to his work. 3:30AM. He could kiss sleep goodbye. He worked through the night, finishing just before sunrise. The ambassador would be in soon, and she would have a full day ahead of her. He stole a quick shower in the bathroom and changed his suit. He sat back down in his desk just in time to hear the nagging voice of one of her bodyguards. He continued working at his desk until the door opened, and a gentle tapping caught his attention. He looked up to read her hands.
*Good morning, Advisor.
“Hmm? Good morning, Ambassador.”
*You weren’t here again all night, were you?
“Of course not. I just arrived a few moments before you.”
*I see. Well, we have a busy day today, yes? I shall meet you downstairs in an hour.
She walked out, the echo of her footsteps fading away to the bustle of the office. He stared down at his desk, smiling faintly. What was he thinking? Of course he get credit. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out the fortune cookie, opening the wrapper and holding it in his hands. He cracks the cookie open and reads the fortune, laughing to himself as he does.
“It’s amazing how much good you can do if you don’t care who gets the credit.”

The bumpy car ride was a disaster. Traffic was horrible, making the 30 minute drive to the chapel take almost 3 hours. Luckily, on the way there, he was able to verse the ambassador on her speech. It was harder than it seemed.
“No no, ambassador. Please, it’s “The prime minister was a honorable man, who worked hard to help monster kind find a place on the surface.””
“But Grayson… do you not realize that is a lie? He was one of the strongest opposers to our cause.”
“It’s called being political, ambassador Frisk. We don’t wish to stir up old conflicts at such a public ceremony.”
She huffed and murmured to herself as she read the speech. Grayson sighed and leaned back, running his hand over his combed hair. Ambassador Frisk was a challenge to work with, but she always listened to reason. Eventually.
The slick black car stopped in front of the cathedral, a crowd of people dressed in black already gathered. The Ambassador was the first of many influential people to speak during the ceremony.
“The Prime Minister was a good friend to many of us, myself included. While he shall be missed, I know he is in a better place.”
The ambassador’s last line had echoed through the cathedral, with help of the sound system. For a tense moment, the audience was silent. Grayson held his breath, The crowd broke into thunderous applause, disguising the sigh of relief he released from his lungs. She had done it. She had managed to disguise her true emotions long enough for the speech, and the press was eating it up. She stepped down from the podium, straightening her suit jacket and walking out. He knew that she would get restless.
As they entered the car, she threw the notes to the speech away.
“I am so glad that is over.”
“I know you are, Ambassador Frisk.”
“Where to now?”
“Lunch, and then we’ll meet your security team to unwind a little.”
“Sounds lovely, Advisor Grayson. Where did you have in mind?
“A little chinese restaurant I’ve been meaning to take you to.”
The car rolled off silently, weaving it’s way through the traffic. Grayson leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, smiling to himself.

It’s amazing how much good you can do if you don’t care who gets the credit.