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Bachelor's degree in journalism, graduating with honors, a job at the largest network in the States, and I blew it for my high school sweetheart. Now I work a nine to five as a content creator. Useless. My boss, condescending. Glass ceilings even exist in the lowest of the lows. Chazz with two Z's. His extra Z is the least offensive part of his no chill personality. There's a long standing anonymous chat room describing his douchery around the office. That's a word right? Douchery?

Internet search: is douchery a word?

Results: Douchery is a slang term. The act of being a douche.

Maybe I could make an article about that? Ugh. I don't know. Chazz will have my ass if I don't have something for the meeting. I rubbed my eyes beneath my glasses. I felt tired and staring at a computer screen wasn't helping. Honestly I hate this job. If I don't come up with something I could just quite. Yeah, I'll just quit. I hate Chazz and his frat boy charm. I hate all guys like that. They reminded me too much of Tony. Should have known that guy was a jerk. I stayed in Ohio for him and the second he got a little famous he left. He just dropped everything to be an influencer in L.A. and didn't even ask me to come with him. I took care of him for three years after I graduated. The next thing I know after he ghosted me, he announces his relationship with blogtuber Cherfox. Now he's everywhere. Commercials, book deals, social media. Somehow he forgot the three years I spent paying for all his stupid equipment, supporting him, cleaning up after him. It was I, who took him off the streets when his family kicked him out for wanting to be famous. I'm not bitter. I'm furious. His relationship with that Cherfox person is fake. It was a publicity stunt.

I got side tracked. The meeting is in ten minutes and I have no proposal. I'm so done for. I checked my phone. I finally accepted my fate. I threw my head in my hands. My phone still in my left hand. I am so screwed. If I don't have a job them my cat will have no where to live. Bones deserves better. In my moment of despair, a notification appeared on my smartphone. Binder, the latest dating app, I downloaded it so I could have free meals and someone to talk to. Gears began to turn in my mind. This could work. Bones might still have somewhere to live, I thought as I threw together a written proposal.

Our conference room, about ten feet from my desk, started to fill up. There were fifteen seats around a large conference table. Twenty team members lived under Chazz's rule. Sixty percent of the women in the office fell into his group. He harassed them all for different reasons. The men in the group rarely had to provide interesting content, while the girls were pushed to bring boundary pushing proposals. I'm sure he will find a way to hyper sexualize my idea. I fond my seat in the far right corner. Chazz stood at the front near the door. His greasy frat boy smile plastered on his face matched his low quality suit. Our office didn't have a dress code. In comparison, I wore a jean midi shirt with a gray tank and white sneakers.

Unlike most offices, I was allowed dyed hair, and chose an obnoxiously bright burnt orange. Chazz always feigned professionalism like this when he was being evaluated. My proposal might pass as is if it's Candy. She might have a stripper name, but she puts up with no sexist shit from my boss. My eyes glanced around to see if she was joining us. After a moment I settled on her. She sat to the left of Chazz near the front. He often had these evaluations because of complaints from various team members or followers. He also created videos highlighting some of the best articles with a short synopsis and commentary. On occasion he would blatantly make fun of, usually the girls, posts. This would make fans and writers upset and cause these fun evaluations.

"Good morning everyone," he said charismatically," I hope you all have your proposals ready. If you do not I will get with you after the meeting to walk through ideas. Let's go around with proposals and see what everyone has for us. I'll take volunteers." He never helps anyone with proposals. I rolled my eyes. When I didn't have my shit together he always pulled me in his office to chastise me and simultaneously hit on me. I hated being in his office alone.

"My proposal is about sports." David is one of the bro's. His proposal is the same every week. Every week he passes.

"Yes! We need sports. I want a draft by tonight for a five minute read." Chazz always go so easy on them.

"Hot cheerleaders. I want to rank them." Ugh I don't even know his name but he is a literal caveman.

"Sounds good. Make sure to include their interests or whatever." Chazz said interests in a condescending tone. Several other proposals came through in that manner until he started with the ladies of the office.

"How about nail care?" A mousy girl said. None of her ideas ever passed. She was always given assistant work as a "secondary writer" on article with the guys. Despite being quiet she was extremely well built and the guys always fought over her.

"No nail care won't attract men. I'm gonna put you on the cheerleader thing. Next."

"Worst rated stylist. Everyone can laugh at a bad make over."

"True. Okay but I want you to be the model. And make sure you wear something nice in the photos. Next" He pointed around her casual jean and T-shirt look. Candy cleared her throat loudly. It was a warning. We all new he meant wear something that shows more tits. There were a few more failures after that and finally my turn came. I felt a little nervous.

"I'd like to do an article about dating apps," I started. No one looked intrigued. Was this cliche? I thought it would be something a little different. I can only plead my case now.