Pairing: none

Fandom: The Lorax

Rating: K

Summary: Onceler ponders his current relationship status (single). Little bit of dialogue at the beginning between him and O’hare (his assistant) but mainly Onceler’s inner monologue.

Notes: I have no idea what to put for the summary. There are no pairings or hint of pairings here. Like everything else I write this starts off with no set up and makes no sense. But I doubt I’ll ever do anything else with it so I’m posting it. Also this is posted from mobile so I hope the readmore works.

“He has a girlfriend.” the Onceler mumbled.

“Oh he has a g- wait what??” the young man stared at his boss incredulously for a split second before questioning him.
“Sir, are you… gay?” he awaited the angry snarl.

Instead a heavy sighed emitted from the Onceler and he ran a gloved hand back through his disheveled hair.
“Women are… confusing.” he forced out. “and I don’t much care for them.”

Onceler didn’t enjoy having to explain his preferences to his secretary, what with still being heartbroken and all. He liked men because women scared him; that’s all there was to it.

He supposed though, that this was just one of those things money couldn’t buy. He had heard people tell him that before and he laughed it off, it was becoming painfully obvious however, that it was true. He could undoubtedly get away with having a man for a lover, paying off magazine columnists and endorsements no problem, the issue was finding a man, any man, willing to serve as second place to Onceler. No self respecting person would let another person outshine them, and Onceler was certain the chances were lessened ever more when the person doing the outshining was the Onceler himself. It was unlikely he would ever be able to be with someone as successful as himself; His best bet was to find someone poor, unsuccessful, and lowly.

That certainly didn’t mean unattractive. Onceler may have been desperate but he still had standards.

Ironically, his personal assistant fit that description almost perfectly. Except the attractive part; O’hare was a short, pudgy man with a terrible haircut and a sweating problem. He did nothing but agree with the Onceler and kiss ass, which, while fine in small doses, wasn’t something he would want in a boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Did he really think that? The term sounded so juvenile, like something he would have used a few years ago perhaps, before coaches and PR people had trained him to use a more eloquent vocabulary. But words like “lover” and “significant other” were so impersonal. ‘Boyfriend’ was much better, he thought.

Why was he even thinking about this? It wasn’t like he had time for a boyfriend. Even if by chance he did find a man with whom he shared a mutual attraction, and who he could stand to be around for more than twenty minutes, he wouldn’t be able to develop a lasting relationship with him. Between mountains of paperwork that he couldn’t hire someone else to sign (he knows this, he checked), hour long meetings and even longer business trips and press conferences where journalists picked him apart and pried into him, there was no way he would have the free time needed to spend doting on someone.

He wondered if maybe, he was meant to be alone. But he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling he got whenever he fell asleep in his bed all by himself. Or the sharp twinge of pain in his chest when he was asked about his personal life and later read articles that pondered the question ‘Why is Mr. Onceler single?’ He memorized the lines of assumptions and insults and spent a week staring at himself in the mirror whenever he got the chance, picking apart his appearance the way interviewers picked his brain.

There was nothing worth swooning for. Apart from his money the Onceler had nothing to offer someone. Unless they wanted fame perhaps. But they could never love him.