Max sat at his cramped desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork and the steady buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. The clock on the wall mocked him 9:45 p.m., another late night at the office.
His phone buzzed. A message from Ellie. For a moment, the chaos around him softened.
But outside of these texts, life wasn't so easy.
His parents had been arguing again. Money's tight. Tensions are high.
And his Editor? Relentless. More deadlines, less empathy.
Max rubbed his temples, trying to silence the noise in his head.
He typed back quickly, fingers shaking just a little.
Max glanced at the clock. Another late night at the office. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above felt like static in his brain.
His phone lit up. Ellie.
Ellie:
How are you holding up?
He stared at the screen, the simple question cutting through the fog.
Family dinner last night had been a war zone disguised as small talk.
His parents' whispered fights spilled into the hallway. The stress at work was only adding fuel.
The pile of reports waiting for him was suffocating.
Max sighed and tapped out a reply.
Max:
Hanging in there. Just… tired. You?
The reply was quick.
Ellie:
Same. Coffee and texting you are my lifelines.
Max smiled, a little. They were strangers, but these conversations were becoming the one thing he looked forward to.
He thought about telling her everything: the fights, the pressure, the fear of failing everyone.
Maybe soon.
For now, he just typed:
Max:
Tomorrow's another day. We'll get through it. Together.