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One and a half years after landing in this strange world, I’ve suddenly decided to start a journal. My hope is that once I manage to return to my own world, this journal will serve as a compendium of data that can then be used to advance our society, technology, and administration. But mainly, I’m just bored. 

Every day for the past year I’ve shuffled paper in the Records department. Monotonous is an understatement. Not to say my life didn’t include some monotony as CEO, but that was of my own doing. I intentionally had no friends, lover, or hobbies because having one of the world’s highest management positions required tremendous dedication. Here, I’ve made a friend and gained hobbies, but work is dull and I’m no closer to returning home. I’m wholeheartedly fed up. 

At first, Records Assistant was an invaluable position. The reports and archives provided not only information about this organization and world, but insights into our entire universe that I’d only ever dreamed of knowing. But when it drags on for months, it loses its shine. 

Don’t get me wrong; it’s an upgrade from shuffling mail and packages in the mailroom, my initial job in this organization. But I’m unhappy. I have a lot of complaints.

Let me provide more context so the reader can understand how truly ridiculous my situation is. 

I should let the reader know that in my original world, I was a CEO in the world management realm. Those from dissimilar worlds may equate it to being a god from a pantheon in Heaven. Though such a title glorifies and romanticizes more than my position deserves. Fundamentally, I’m simply a civil servant. 

The World Chaos Organization Institute (WCOI) was one of many institutions in the world management realm. Our realm’s belief was that chaos is the substance or fabric that makes up the world and universe, keeps it going, and identifies each of its parts. WCOI’s purpose was to research, codify, and repair. 

Our knowledge of what we called “parallel timelines” was budding. Once we discovered the existence of these worlds that only slightly differed from our own, we theorized physical travel between them was possible and immediately set to work on developing a machine to do so. 

I’m both proud and bitter to announce that our Timeline Travel Machine (which was reportedly in the process of upgrades) works, and that I, the CEO, am the first from our world to be transported. Albeit by accident.  

Or perhaps it wasn’t an accident but someone’s successfully executed plan. Maybe I’ll know by the time this journal is finished. But I’m curious to know what the reader thinks.

Allow me to start from the afternoon of the day I was transported. 

I was due to have a meeting with the team in charge of the Timeline Travel Device (TTD), and left my office alone with enough time to arrive early. The elevator, however, was taking an oddly long time to arrive so I opted for the stairwell. My intolerance for wasting time while on the job is one of my few quirks. 

After reaching the appropriate floor, I decided to stop by the restroom and check the mirror. A few flights of stairs wouldn’t tire me out (I scheduled time for regular exercise, so I was quite fit), but it’s not unusual for a fabric or hair to fall out of place with such activity. So, you see, observing my reflection isn’t because I’m conceited, but as CEO I did have an image to uphold. 

Anyway, as I left the restroom, my smartphone vibrated from my pocket and I paused to take a look. Just then, I overheard two employees in the midst of gossip from around the corner.

I caught the end of one saying, “…want to catch a glimpse of our CEO?”

I would have continued walking had they not mentioned seeing me. My mindset was that you can never be too cautious; it’s important to assess each factor before making a move. After all, it could’ve been someone who was better off not seeing me. Or it could have delayed me making the meeting. So I waited to hear more. 

She continued in a sing-songy cadence, “Didn’t you see CEO Malik visit our department last week? Isn’t he charming? There’s nothing more attractive than a working man.”

At this point, I considered turning back. While I’m grateful for the positive reputation I have with the institution’s staff, those that treat me as some sort of celebrity are sometimes difficult to deal with. 

The other replied with disinterest, “I just don’t understand why everyone’s so enamored with him. It’s not like other people aren’t attractive or good at their jobs. Isn’t he nothing special?” Disdain tinged their tone towards the end. 

Tone aside, I had to agree with the second speaker. I always felt like others were far too suggestible and quick to lose their composure over trivial things like attractiveness or skills. Reserved admiration and respect were fine, but squealing gossip and puppy-like hovering were unbecoming. 

“Aah, whatever,” the first employee snapped before returning to their previous lilt. “There’s a reason he’s popular with everyone. I feel energized just seeing him.” 

My phone buzzed again from an incoming call and I accepted it as I stepped out to head for the meeting room. I paid the two gossiping staff no mind, though caught from my periphery their outlines—both around 5’7” average height, short dark bob wearing slacks and light ponytail wearing a skirt. As I turned my back, I could hear one gasp and the sound of the two exchanging slaps likely on their arms or backs. 

“CEO Malik,” my secretary spoke from the phone. “I’ve just returned to the office. Did you see my message?”

“Vaguely. What is it?”

“The TTD Team requested to move today’s meeting to the room housing the device. They said it would be better if you could see the device, without giving further details. Team Manager Noah sounded rather panicked and vexed.” 

I hissed, knowing this was a bad sign. “Alright. Meet me there.” 

I hung up then looped the hallways, deciding to try the elevator again. This time, it arrived promptly and the doors opened to reveal my secretary, Sara. We dipped our heads in greeting and I boarded the elevator. As we went up, she handed me a report from her briefcase, and I caught a glimpse of her flat shoes. Secretary Sara always wore heels, so I immediately contemplated reasons: fatigue, tendon issues, arthritis, balance problems, ear infection, neurological disease, a cold?

“This is the—“

“Are you sick?” As her boss and colleague how could I not be perceptive and concerned about my subordinate’s health? While we weren’t friends by any means, Secretary Sara was arguably the closest person to me. 

She turned her body halfway towards me, gazing up with a frown and wide eyes. 

The paper she’d handed me was a formal request from the research team asking for a suspension on the TTD’s activation until more could be discovered about the existence of standalone worlds. 

My neck straightened as I came to a realization. Switching to flat shoes is a common practice for aching expecting mothers. “Are you pregnant?” 

Secretary Sara’s lips flattened and trembled. She faced back forward and tightened her jaw. “You’re very intelligent sir, so why would you say something so thoughtless?”

“Why is it thoughtless? There’s nothing bad about being pregnant.” Our realm had very generous family leave benefits. Was she the type of person who disliked kids or did I miss something, I wondered. “Though, I guess it’s bad for me if I have to get used to working with someone completely new,” I muttered as I folded the report and placed it in my suit blazer’s inner pocket. Me adjusting was trivial though, compared to Secretary Sara’s health. “Well, whether you’re sick or pregnant, take care. And don’t forget to submit a formal leave request.”

The elevator arrived and we got off. Secretary Sara’s expression remained flat.

Still unsure of my error, I decided to throw in for good measure, “Your flats look nice.” 

“CEO Malik,” she began without looking at me, “aren’t you already thirty-three this year? When do you plan on settling down with your partner?” 

“What partner?“ I scratched my face, bothered by the switch to my least favourite topic. “Why do you talk about settling down, Secretary Sara, when you know I’ve never even dated?” I offered a tight smile. 

“When do you plan on finding someone then? At this rate you might be alone forever.” 

As I fought a wince, my face twisted in clear discomfort. “No time.” I gestured for her to take the lead; and with that, I supposed she silently called a truce. 

We soon arrived at the lab and scanned into the glass-walled room housing the TTD. The Team, a group of people in lab coats and jacket-less suits, were standing in a huddle looking all shades of nervous. I raised an eyebrow as I scanned them and the room before landing my eyes on Team Manager Noah.