Mitchell Ross had been having a terrible day so far. Which was to be expected, considering who he was interning with, and his expectations.
Mitchell had been previously one of the most fit and intensely driven guys on the high school wrestling team, being a heavy weight and a consummate professional at the sport, Mitch had thought his path was decided when he went for one tourney after another. And then he broke his kneecap in a risky maneuver, and he had to change his plans. Away he went from the glory of tournaments and pinning and the pats on his shoulder from coach. He'd been broken. Discarded. Left to pick up the pieces.
And here he was. Mitch was tall, about six foot four, and even after being so long removed from his sport he remained incredibly fit, though his abs had long since faded into merely a solid, strong stomach. He was about 240 lbs, and most girls in the office found his straw blond hair, smooth yet strong jawline, and pretty baby blue eyes very attractive indeed. On top of his build - some even said Mitch could probably do modeling. He was about 25 years old, so just about the right age for it.
He however preferred working in business now. More stable it seemed. Though there was always a catch. He had to start out as an intern.
Thus, of course there was the boss from hell who seemed intent on removing Mitch's ability to enjoy this work. The work he needed to do to actually get to real productive work in a bigger corporation.
His boss was Ernest Levin, a guy who seemed to really have a chip on his shoulder about guys like Mitch. Even though Mitch hadn't even been one of the bullying guys, Ernest marked every day with a good few jokes about the office jock being barely literate and "probably going ook ook ahh ahh". It stopped being in good humor and teasing after the first ten days straight of it, and became obvious signs the guy he was interning under was a jackass.
What made it worse was the fact the business was located on the beachfront! Mitch looked out the office window and saw the beach, but his mind was on the fucking jackass he was working for just to make sure he could get ahead and get into the business world.
Thankfully, the least that could be said was that the policy on breaks was lenient.
Mitch once his break came up went up to the front and announced, "Hey, taking my ten minute break." He braced himself and was not surprised by his boss' response.
"Whatever you say, Mitchell. Just be back in ten minutes. I know you musclebound dumbasses don't typically keep track of these things easily." And on top of everything else, the guy had a nasally, malicious sounding voice as well. Much as Mitch wanted to say something back, he just shrugged and headed out. Most other employees went for a smoke during break, but Mitch, being a healthy sort, instead typically went for a walk.
He passed the ground floor offices, and then exited the building. How much he wished he could just leave this horrible job for good. But he'd be here for...what? A year and a half more of this hell internship? Mitch breathed and headed out to the beach road. He kicked some rocks as he did his walk, seeing some of the beachgoers just enjoying themselves out here. He smiled somewhat bitterly.
Damn but he wished he could enjoy himself like they were. But the hours were long and punishing, and he had a lot of work. By the time he was done, the sun was always down and the beach was more or less deserted. Man, it felt like doing this was just draining the life outta him. As he kicked another rock, it hit something metallic. This drew his attention.
Mitch stopped his walk and bent down to pick up what looked like a weathered stopwatch. Old sort of thing. Reminded him of something his grandpa had. Ol' Gramps really loved that stopwatch, and Mitch had been tremendously sad for gramps when the old man lost the watch. Supposedly it was a gift - and due to the fact he lost it while caring for a younger Mitch, the jock had at the time blamed himself for the loss. Of course Ol' Gramps had assuaged him, saying it was of course not his fault, not that it stopped the young man from continuing to feel as if he carried some blame for that.
But as he opened it, and saw the odd traits of the Master Stopwatch, he was left curious as to what this thing was.
He started fiddling with it, trying to figure out what it did. His girlfriend would probably have better luck, as despite stereotypes she was by far better with technology and these sorts of things than he was. Mitch was always more of a physicality type of guy, not inclined to fixing devices or figuring out how they worked.
Alas, here he was engaging with something that could have many effects indeed upon him. Hitting a few of the buttons, Mitch...