A Nominal Task

Meanwhile, Damien had assigned Martin, his assistant, a very important task as soon as they reached office. 

"But boss, the meeting—" Martin began, his voice trailing off as he fumbled with the stack of papers in his hands.

"Reschedule the meetings," Damien said, folding his sleeves, revealing his tattoo. "This is more important." He then grabbed a paper from the stack Martin was holding and started folding it into a paper plane

Martin was on the verge of crying, not understanding what his boss was trying to do. 

Was he supposed to just leave everything and make a paper plane with his boss on the first day of his work? 

"I-I don't understand," Martin stammered, his voice small. Was he being tested for initiative? Creativity? Sanity?

Damien glanced up. He held up the finished plane, examining it like a work of art. 

"That's the problem, Martin," he said. "You are too focused on what you think the job is. If you want to work with me, you have to learn to loosen up a bit." 

Before Martin could respond, Damien launched the paper plane across the room. It soared gracefully before landing gently on the windowsill.

"You see that?" He looked at Martin. "Now that is what you call a perfect piece of art." 

"Come on now, sit down and get to work." Damien gestured to him to sit down as he grabbed another paper to recreate his art work. 

Still confused, Martin took his seat and started making art works as ordered by his boss. 

Minutes passed and the room filled with nothing but the sound of paper creasing, folding. 

Martin's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all. Was this a test of his patience? His obedience? Or was there some kind of lesson that Damien was trying to teach him but he was failing to grasp?

"Not bad," Damien said, nodding towards Martin's hesitant attempt at a paper plane. "You will get there. Just keep practicing."

Martin calmed down a little but the knot in his stomach remained. 

He wasn't sure what kind of boss he was dealing with, but one thing was clear that this was only the beginning of the strange, unpredictable journey he had just signed up for.

"Am I late?" Vincent Gerov, Damien's ex-assistant now COO, entered the room. 

"Nope, you are right on time," Damien said without taking his eyes off the plane he was working with. 

Martin was about to get up to greet Vincent but was gestured by him to remain seated. And to his surprise, Vincent folded his sleeves and sat down. He then started following Damien's suit and started making the paper planes. 

No question was asked, not an ounce of doubt detectable in Vincent's face. It seemed like an everyday thing for him. 

Damien looked at Vincent and grinned. "I see you still have the sharp edges." 

Vincent chuckled softly, holding up the plane he had just crafted—it was perfect. "You taught me well," he replied with a wink. 

He looked at Martin's shaky attempt at the paper plane and raised his eyebrows. "I think you have a new student now." 

Martin gulped and managed a nervous smile before focusing on crafting the paper plane. 

Damien chuckled, seemingly amused by Martin's struggle. "Don't worry, Vincent here was just as hopeless when he started working for me."

Vincent smirked, clearly not offended. "Took me a few weeks to even make something that could glide through this room." 

"A few weeks?" Martin muttered under his breath. He thought it was a one time thing but who would have known he had to do it for several weeks. His heart sank at the thought of spending weeks perfecting something as nominal as a paper plane. 

Before he could dwell on it further, Damien spoke again. "You're thinking too much, Martin. If you are going to survive here, you need to stop over analyzing every move," he said, his voice soft and casual yet firm.