"Wake up!"
Ignis heard the voice of his co-worker call out for him and felt her hand reaching out, shaking him awake.
He was dissapointed, his dream was interrupted and he knew it'll be forgotten before long. Even now, though it's only been a few seconds, he had already lost the finer details of what has happened.
"I... Um... I wasn't sleeping", he said. His lie wasn't very believable, especially since he couldn't help but yawn shortly after making the false statement. The annoyed look on his co-worker's face confirmed his suspicions. No one is buying his lie.
There was a piece of paper stuck to his forehead as he lifted his head. Some document he has to look over and approve. Even glimpsing at it threatened to send him back to sleep.
"I was um... Just looking really closely at this document", he said taking it off and showing to his boss' secretary. With a heavy sigh she said, "Listen just head to Henry's office, he wanted to speak with you.", before promptly leaving.
"I don't even know why I try, it's not like any of them care about me, nor do I about them", his usual depressive state has set in. He wasn't sure when he began feeling this way, but each day brought him closer to the edge.
"Something has got to give", Ignis muttered to himself on the way to the boss' office attempting to salvage whatever parts of the dream he could.
There was fire. Great, brilliant fire. People were running away, but Ignis... He felt right at home. The lights, the heat, the colors reflecting in the flames. The dream envoked a strange exciting feeling in a way he couldn't quite explain.
He also remembers feeling watched, almost as if he was being a evaluated. A creepy feeling, like being in the palm of somebody's hand.
Ignis finally got up from his desk and walked out of his dreary office into the buildings boring hallway and then into his boss' slightly bigger yet just as dreary office.
He hated this place. The cold fluorescent lighting and the gray walls created a sickening environment. He was on decent terms with all the people working here, yet they only ever spoke when needed. Wouldn't call any one of them his friend. At best he tolerated them, and they tolerated him.
He has always felt this way, from the first day he started working there, but at first he believed he'd get used to it. It didn't bother him THAT much. Day after day of seeing this view for 8 hours a day, seeing these same people and having the same meaningless interactions every day for over 6 years has wore him down to the point of hating his job and everything about it.
However, he still needed it to survive.
"You wanted to see me?", Ignis asked in a monotone bored voice, he didn't have the energy to pretend any more.
His boss was an older man. With a gray recieding hairline, and a badly kept beard, Ignis hates what this man represented.
Someone who has given up, at the end of the line. Someone who has been doing the same useless thing their whole life, no one will remember him after he dies.
No one will remember me... This realization hit Ignis while this old man was speaking, and now he was waiting for a response.
"Umm... Sorry what? I think I zoned out there for a second."
The old man squeezed the bridge of his nose, annoyed and upset.
"This is what I mean, you clearly do not care about you work. You hit your targets, you do what is asked of you, but your attitude is simply horrendous."
The manager sighed, it was clear he didn't like this part of his job. He knew it had to be done, however.
"I appreciate what you've done for us in the last 6... I guess it'd be almost 7 years, but..."
He could tell his boss was trying to use most sympathetic voice to deliver this news.
"You are fired"