I used to think I'd like to be the hero of my own story. After really considering it, I decided it was too much work and maybe I would be better suited to being a sidekick. Then I realized sidekicks do a lot of work, too. That was when I decided I really excelled at just being an "extra." I was the person who handed the hero a cup of coffee right before or after they did something heroic. I was the person who golf-clapped politely as they strolled past, a smile plastered upon my face while I lived vicariously through their deeds. I would point and whisper to the person next to me, "I served them coffee this morning," as if doling out hot beverages contributed to their success. Just a nobody, just doing their job, just watching it all happen and gossiping about it later.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  That had been working out just brilliantly for about 10 years now at the Department of Unknown and Notorious Creatures Enforcement (DUNCE). Bureaucracy isn't known for its brains. I would show up around 11 at night for my shift (all the good stuff happens at night) at the beverages bar and sling drinks for 8 hours before returning back home to Flapjack, the oversized stray cat who insisted on staying in my apartment five years ago and still hadn't left. I should have known a set-up this good couldn't last forever.