Liam woke up earlier than usual on Monday, not because he set an alarm but because the building felt different. The hallway had more footsteps than it did on the weekends, and someone downstairs kept opening and closing the metal mailbox slot. It wasn’t loud, just enough to tell him the week had officially started.

He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and stared at the faint morning light slipping through the blinds. He wasn’t nervous, but he felt the kind of alertness that came with having something scheduled, something that needed him to be awake and functional. He made coffee and drank it slowly, letting the warmth bring him fully into the day.

He went through a small routine—washed his face, changed into clean clothes, and cleared the clutter off his table so he could work if he needed to. It wasn’t much, but the place looked better with empty space on the desk.

Around eight, he stepped into the hallway. The air smelled faintly like someone had rushed out wearing too much cologne. Downstairs, a door slammed, followed by someone calling out a quick goodbye. Monday energy had its own rhythm.

He walked down to the second floor to throw out some trash. As he reached the landing, Zoey stepped out of her apartment holding a travel mug and a tote bag stuffed with papers. Her hair was pulled back but not neatly, like she had tried twice and gave up on making it perfect.

She stopped when she saw him. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Liam said.

She exhaled through her nose. “I already spilled coffee on my desk. It’s not even eight-thirty.”

“That’s a strong start,” he said.

“It’s a start,” she corrected. She lifted the tote bag slightly. “I did some prep last night. Not much. Just enough to tell myself I didn’t procrastinate.”

“That counts.”

Zoey leaned against the doorframe. “You ready for your stuff today?”

“As ready as I’ll get.”

“That’s what I told Lily,” she said. “She texted me five minutes ago telling me not to panic. I wasn’t panicking, but now I feel like I should be.”

Liam shook his head lightly. “If you feel fine, you’re fine.”

“That’s too simple,” she said. “But I’ll take it.”

A door down the hall opened, and a neighbor carrying a backpack hurried past them, earbuds already in.

Zoey adjusted her mug. “Do you have to be in early?”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Just want to get settled before anything starts.”

“Same.” She paused, then added, “If you see me outside later talking to myself, I’m practicing.”

“I won’t judge.”

“You definitely will, but thanks.”

Zoey closed her door, locked it, and stepped toward the stairs. Liam followed behind her. They walked down together, not talking much. It wasn’t awkward—just two people starting their Monday in the same space.

In the lobby, the morning sun cut across the glass doors. A few residents were leaving at the same time, some holding coffee, some holding gym bags, one struggling to zip a jacket while walking out the door.

Zoey took a breath. “Okay. Here we go.”

“Good luck,” Liam said.

“You too.”

They pushed the door open and stepped outside. She turned left toward her bus stop; he turned right toward his. They parted without any big moment, just a small nod as they headed into the week.

The bus arrived with its usual groan. Liam climbed on, found a seat near the middle, and watched the familiar route pass by. The city moved with Monday pace—people looking at phones, others holding coffee like lifelines, cars honking even though the traffic wasn’t worse than usual.

He arrived downtown, walked into the building, and took the elevator up to the office. Caleb was already there, sitting with a half-eaten muffin and staring at his laptop like it had insulted him.

“Oh good,” Caleb said when he noticed him. “You’re alive.”

“Barely,” Liam said, setting his bag down.

Caleb pointed his muffin at him. “Today is only scary if you think too hard about it.”

“That applies to everything.”

“Exactly,” Caleb said. “Which is why I don’t think.”

Liam laughed under his breath and sat down. They went over the outline again, just to make sure they remembered what they wanted to say. It wasn’t complicated, but Monday made simple things feel heavier.

At nine, Miranda walked in holding a water bottle and her phone. She nodded at them. “Ten minutes. Make sure your audio works. Kickoff calls are messy when someone forgets their microphone is broken.”

Caleb looked at his computer like it might betray him. “We’re good.”

Miranda didn’t respond. She went straight to her office.

Liam checked his settings anyway. His mic worked, the camera was centered, the screen share option was set. He didn’t need to use all of it, but he didn’t want surprises.

A few minutes before the call, he leaned back in his chair. Caleb leaned over.

“Weekend okay?” Caleb asked.

“Pretty normal,” Liam said. “Did laundry. Walked around. Tried a new grocery store.”

“Wild stuff,” Caleb said.

“You?”

“Went to my brother’s place. Ate too much,” Caleb replied. “Regret nothing.”

Liam nodded, and they fell quiet.

At ten sharp, the kickoff window opened on his screen. A loading icon spun for a moment before the client’s team appeared, followed by the Ridgeway group. A few cameras were off, some were on.

And then he saw her.

Zoey appeared on the call a second later, adjusting her headset. Her background looked like a small office corner—plain wall, a shelf with a plant, nothing unusual. Her expression was neutral and focused, not the relaxed version he saw in the hallways. She didn’t notice him yet; her eyes were scanning the screen, checking something off camera.

Caleb whispered, “That must be their designer.”

Liam kept his face still. “Yeah.”

The meeting started. The client talked first, outlining goals and expectations. Miranda followed with her usual clear, direct tone. Ridgeway’s project manager spoke next, introducing their side. Then the manager introduced their lead designer.

“Zoey Mitchell will be the main point for visual work.”

Zoey nodded and unmuted. “Hi, everyone. Looking forward to working together.”

Her voice was steady, professional. Nothing about it hinted that she lived two floors below Liam or made fun of laundry machines on weekends. She didn’t look toward his square on the screen. She didn’t know yet.

When it was Caleb’s turn to speak, he nudged Liam to jump in for their portion. Liam did, keeping his voice even, the way he practiced. He didn’t look directly at Zoey’s camera tile, but he could sense her paying attention the way everyone else was.

The meeting wasn’t dramatic. No big decisions, no heated debates. Just a Monday call setting the stage for the work ahead.

When it ended, people waved, thanked each other, and logged off. Zoey’s screen blinked out before he had a chance to see if she noticed anything.

Caleb stretched. “Not bad. I thought they’d talk more.”

“Same,” Liam said.

“You did good,” Caleb added. “Calm. Normal. No weird rambling.”

“That’s the goal.”

Miranda stepped out of her office. “Nice work. I’ll follow up with a summary. For now, take a breath.”

Caleb saluted jokingly. “Yes, boss.”

Miranda ignored him and walked away.

Liam exhaled, not from stress but from the strange feeling of two parts of his life finally overlapping. Not colliding—just touching at the edges.

He checked his messages and found a text from an unknown number: **Didn’t expect to see you in a meeting window. – Zoey**

He stared at it for a moment before replying.

**Same here.**

A few seconds later, her response popped up.

**We’ll pretend we’re normal colleagues for now. Deal?**

Liam typed back:

**Deal.**

Caleb looked over. “Who’s that?”

“Just someone from the project,” Liam said.

Caleb shrugged. “Cool.”

Liam closed the message thread and set his phone face down on the desk.

Monday had officially started.

In pieces, maybe.

But it had started.