Peyton loved the hustle and bustle of the newsroom. Watching the product of their hard work coming together into a tangible thing that someone could hold (or read on the internet) was enough to keep her hooked. She didn't even mind that she got some of the bottom barrel articles–the filler content. She expected that as a Standard, but she still put her all into everything she did for the paper. This was the sort of thing she was thinking about going to college for. The more she learned now, the better off she'd be. Or that was her logic at least.
She had done what she could to fill in where she had been needed, but she'd still been overlooked for many of the writing positions, those went to the Intermediates, Advanced, and Expert level students. When a position on the photography team opened up, she'd jumped it and quickly took to learning the ins and outs of her camera and the things that she could do with it.
When she arrived in the newsroom, she dropped her bag on her desk to briefly shuffle through it before producing her rather beat up notebook, pen hooked in a loop on the side. As she signed out her camera for the day, the editor-in-chief informed her that she would be working for Kent on his special issue. It was in that moment her heart sank to her stomach. She stuttered a confirmation, and upon receiving a nod, she turned to make her way to Kent's corner.
Kent intimidated her. This was mostly because when she saw him, he was always working and always focused. Most of the rest of their peers seemed to leave him to his own devices, occasionally popping over to ask him a question or to get his opinion on something. She'd also seen his post to the network. His confidence and dedication was something she respected about him, but she really didn't know much about him. That only added to the anxiety wrapping itself around in knots in her stomach. Peyton decided that the best thing to do was to be herself. She drew in a deep breath, straightened her posture, and ambled across the room to his desk.
After a pause, she offered a hand if he chose to shake it. "I'm Peyton, I'm looking forward to working with you." She motioned to his Red Bull in an attempt to calm her nerves. "If you haven't tried the tropical one, it's pretty good. Unless tropical fruit's not your thing."
Smooth move, Peyton. He really wants to talk to you about fucking Red Bull flavors.