"I can't believe they accepted someone so young," the black-haired teen muttered, eyes fixed on his phone. He was only seventeen, but anyone looking at him would've guessed mid-twenties. The light beard on his face wasn't thick, but it gave him an edge, and his slightly messy hair somehow made him look even better, like the chaos worked in his favor.
His physique was solid, the kind that turned heads, and a far cry from the scrawny kid he used to be. Back then, he'd looked like an easy target. Now? Not so much. He'd trained hard, relentlessly, because the last thing he wanted was some idiot picking a fight and dropping dead for it. Being strong wasn't about pride. It was about control.
At the moment, Alex was sitting in a chair, waiting for his interview. He was late—badly late—and the opportunity of a lifetime was slipping through his fingers. Still, they hadn't shut the door on him. They were willing to hear him out, and the second his name was called, he rose without hesitation and stepped inside.
"You're Alex?" The woman behind the desk blinked in surprise. She wore glasses and a sharp-fitting suit, flipping between the papers in front of her and the young man standing before her, who definitely didn't look his age.
"Yes," Alex replied, already pulling out his ID. "I've always looked older than I am."
She took the card, gave it a glance, and nodded. He wasn't lying.
"I was willing to give you a chance," the woman began, her tone cool and direct, "but you don't exactly scream 'ideal assistant.'"
She looked him dead in the eyes as she continued. "You've got a long list of fights and school suspensions. You were even suspected in the deaths of five people—each one dropping dead near you under mysterious circumstances. Add to that over ten expulsions, and now… you're two hours late."
She folded her hands on the desk. "Tell me, what made you late today?"
Alex paused. Just for a second. Then he told the truth.
"I walked in on a threesome," he said flatly, "between my girlfriend and two of my friends. One of them was supposed to drive me here… but after what I saw, I acted on impulse and came on foot."
He slipped off his suit jacket, revealing sweat-soaked clothes underneath.
"O-oh…" The woman blinked, clearly taken aback. She'd been expecting excuses, maybe even attitude—but instead, she saw someone who wasn't a bad person, just someone having a really bad day.
Alex straightened in his seat. "I haven't gotten into a fight since I was twelve. That's when I started training hard. I built myself up so no one could bully me again. Since then, I've stayed out of trouble. No issues with teachers, no fights. My grades have never dropped below a B, and I haven't missed a single day of school, even when I was sick."
He met her gaze with calm confidence. "I plan to bring that same work ethic here."
"…One question. Did you fight them?" she asked, her voice quieter now, more curious than accusatory. Alex blinked, caught off guard, but he shook his head.
"No. I don't start fights," he said firmly. "Back in school, those fights happened because I was being bullied. If I'd just taken it, it would've only gotten worse. The teachers didn't step in, so I made sure they knew I wasn't an easy target."
He paused, then added, "Like today—I walked away. Some things just aren't worth the fight."
For a moment, she said nothing. If she were anyone else, she might've thought he was putting on an act. But she could tell by the look in his eyes—he was telling the truth.
"Then, welcome to Themyscira Industries," she said, rising from her seat and offering her hand.
Alex didn't hesitate. He stood and shook it with a smile, grateful and just a little stunned.
Themyscira Industries wasn't just any business—it had been founded by one of the world's most iconic superheroes. The company focused on three main missions. First, it provided aid to those affected by the collateral damage of battles between heroes and villains. Second, it supported archaeologists and museums in uncovering world history and understanding the legacy of the gods. And third, it offered strategic assistance to the military when needed.
Wonder Woman herself had no need for wealth. Nearly all of her income was funneled back into the company to support its causes, with only a modest amount reserved for her own basic needs. Of course, it also worked with others to try and end world hunger along with many other things.
"Thank you," Alex said, and the woman offered a small smile.
"I'm Diana Prince. You'll be my personal assistant starting tomorrow," she said warmly. She genuinely felt good about the decision. With a past like his, Alex could've easily slipped down the wrong path, but she saw potential. All he needed was a chance.
"I'll make sure to be here early," Alex replied. Diana nodded, still smiling, and watched as he turned to leave.
But Alex had barely stepped outside when a girl came running straight toward him.
"Alex, I can explain! It's not what it looked like!" the girl cried, rushing toward him. She tried to grab his arm, but Alex smoothly stepped back, avoiding her touch. Her hands fell uselessly at her sides as fresh tears streamed down her face.
Alex didn't say a word. His eyes shifted past her to the two so-called friends standing behind her.
How had he become friends with them? It was simple, he saved them from being bullied. After that, they stuck close, and over time, a bond had formed. Or so he thought.
"Let us explain… please," one of them said, head bowed. The guilt was written all over their faces.
Meanwhile, back in the building, Diana stood by the window, quietly observing the scene unfolding below. She wanted to see how Alex would handle the confrontation.