However, this policy tended to have its downside. Clients would make a sport out of seducing the assistants and once they had achieved their goals, would drop them like hot potatoes. Because a client’s wellbeing was the top priority of his agency, Ari usually didn’t have a choice but either fire his assistant if she made the mistake to complain or transferring her to the devision that was tasked with signing video game developers or the reality show devision.

Next, Ari had tried the male assistant, but he had to fire Josh because he was trying to steal clients so he could open his own firm. If that had been his only offense, Ari would have found a place for him in the company, because as they say, keep your enemies close, but Josh had also made the mistake of trying to hit on Mrs. Ari during an office party.

As everyone also knew, Ari Gold didn’t give a fuck about political correctness. He wasn’t were he was today because he was nice or played by the rules. Everyone who worked for him, knew not to take it personally when he insulted them. The mail room still broke into a titter, when Ari marched into it on a Monday morning in mid March and proclaimed that he was looking for a new assistant and would interview any guy who could convince Ari he loved to suck dick. When he was met with stunned silence, Ari groaned.

“I need an assistant that I can keep for more than a week. So I want to see every guy who loves dick and every chick who loves pussy in my office today. And don’t tell me there aren’t any, this is L.A.”

A pretty blonde with long legs, solarium tan and large silicon breasts which were nearly falling out of her tight top, raised her hand. As she spoke, Ari could see the chewing gum in her mouth. He refocused his attention on her boobs.

“Isn’t that, like, discriminating?” she asked, while a group of equally hot girls next to her nodded along.

Ari shrugged. “My agency, my rules. But don’t worry, any devision that isn’t movies, TV or music could still hire you,” he added with a grin on his face. No assistant would want to sleep with the clients in their less important devisions.

He spent the rest of the day interviewing the mail room’s openly gay employees. Unsurprisingly, there were also quite a lot of guys pretending to like dick in order to get the job, but the owner of Gold Standard wasn’t born yesterday. Over the weekend, his soon to be ex-assistant had opened every locker in the mail room and had photographed its contents. So if you liked dick, why did you have the centerfold of last month’s Playboy hanging in your locker? Three hours later, he’d finally managed to pick one of the two assistants he was looking to hire.

Santana Lopez, 24, with a communications degree from UCLA, was a leggy brunette with a small waist and big breasts. When she caught him starring at them, she told him that her girlfriend was a lawyer and would kill for the opportunity to sue a pig like Ari Gold for sexual harassment. He hired her on the spot and told her she’d start working immediately. Her first job - fire the girl she would be replacing. The rest of the afternoon was less satisfactory, because he didn’t meet a single person he could imagine working closely with. Shortly before six, he was ready to call it a day and task Santana with finding him her fellow assistant, when there was a knock on his door and a boy who looked like he had only recently graduated from high school walked in. He was pale, sweat collecting at his temple and his eyes were glazed over. All in all, he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Ari frowned.

“Who are you?” Ari bellowed, because Mrs. Ari was expecting him home for date night in an hour.

“Kurt Hummel,” the boy rasped. Even though he sounded like he’d swallowed a bucket of sawdust, Ari could tell that his voice was unusually high for a grown man. “I was home sick with the flu, but my supervisor called and said you wanted to see me.”

Ari studied the young man in front of him. He was of medium hight and medium build. His brown hair was streaked with highlights - natural or dyed blond Ari couldn’t tell - and hung limp over his forehead. Because he actually looked sick, Ari gave him a pass for his disheveled appearance this once. He pointed at the chair in front of his desk and made a mental note to have it replaced before his next meeting with a client.

“Sit down and don’t touch anything else.” Kurt followed the order. He also crossed his legs and wrapped an arm around his middle. “How long have you been working for me?” Ari asked.

“Nine months,” Kurt replied. “I started right after graduation.”

Ari frowned. He never promoted anyone from the mail room before they hadn’t worked there for at least a year. If he allowed it now, would he set a dangerous and irreversible precedent? He turned from the young man in front of him to his computer screen and searched for Kurt Hummel’s file. Age twenty-three, born and raised in Lima, Ohio. Two years at Ohio State before transferring to UCLA for personal reasons. Graduated last spring with a major in screen writing and minors in business and communications. He was unattached and had no family in the area. An ideal candidate, because Ari expected from all his employees that they were available to him 24/7. Every contract was for sixty hour weeks, but anyone who worked less than eighty was considered lazy and lacking dedication to the job. A job that also had perks. Like driving your bosses’ expensive sports cars, eating in restaurants you could never afford on your own and being on a first name basis with the world’s biggest stars.

Kurt squirmed in his seat as he felt the powerful man’s eyes on him, waiting for an opportunity to discreetly wipe his nose. Finally Ari Gold, seemed to have made up his mind.

“You have until the end of the week to get well. Next Monday, you will start at seven, sharp. Buy yourself some decent suits. If you can’t afford it, go to Boss on Rodeo Dr. and give them my business card. We’ll deduct it from your pay. Working for me, means you’ll always answer my calls no matter where you are or what time it is. I have two assistants. You and a woman I hired earlier today. One of you will always be here and the other will accompany me to to meetings. Your performance will be the deciding factor. If you work hard and don’t fuck up, you could be an agent in a couple of years. Or whatever else you might wanna be.”

Kurt nodded dumbly. If this was just a fever dream, he wouldn’t be surprised, because no one got out of the mail room before a year wasn’t over. Most people he worked with, had been there for two years already.

After his unexpected meeting with Ari Gold, he climbed into a cab even though money was tight. But with all the meds he was on, he couldn’t have driven himself. The cab dropped him off in front of an apartment complex close to the UCLA campus. He’d moved into an apartment there, when he had relocated to Los Angeles nearly three years ago and had decided to stay after graduation because the rent was decent and his three room mates were barely ever home as they had similar jobs. The only downside was, that his apartment was opposite a row of fraternity houses and at any time of the day, he would run into drunk students on his way from the parking lot to the building.

After taking more meds, he fell into a dreamless sleep. When he woke up the next morning, he felt much better and got out of bed to have some eggs. On the kitchen table, a package from Gold Standard was waiting for him. It contained his contract, a brand new, black iPhone 3G, a doctor’s calling card with a note to get a flu shot and the address of Hugo Boss on Rodeo Dr.  As he examined the contents of the package, Kurt smiled. Everyone in L.A knew how powerful Ari Gold was and that working for him would open doors for you. And now, for some strange reason, he was going to be Ari’s assistant. All he had to do was not screw up. Because Ari Gold kept his word. If you didn’t fuck with Ari, he made sure you went far. Even a studio exec or two had once started out as Ari Gold’s assistant.

“So don’t mess it up, Hummel,” Kurt told himself as he signed the contract with a flourish. “Besides, how hard can it be.”