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Chapter Eighty-Seven

There's no way those aren't custom made. I think to myself, eyes wide at the size of everything witin the crescent shaped room.

The desk, chair, couches, even the appliances littered around like the fridge or television, everything Simon would possibly interact with is an extra size on scale. I'm sure for him it all comes off as normal sized, but standing in front of his desk it's as though I've stumbled into the home of a Giant.

Technically I have.

I'm not the only little person in the room, another stands right next to Simon in his chair, standing on a stool or bench to help her height. Her face is sharp and stern as his own, a permanent frown making a home on her lips. Fitted in a tight corporate look, fit white shirt and pencil skirt and glasses, she's the first female with this many clothes on I've seen in the club.

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