Chapter 3
Rhys sent off a reply to Vaughn after he was able to quell the excited trembling in his hands, typing out something simple and asking Vaughn to get back with this Athena to set up an interview with her. It'd be a nice way to get to know her and they could show her around her next potential living space, and if she liked it, then they wouldn't have to worry about barely making end's meet.
While they had jobs, Hyperion wasn't exactly known for their hefty paychecks. Or, well, they were, but only if you found yourself in a position of power, like a Department Head or Manager, or a board member. Otherwise, the pay was absolute shit. But it was money and Rhys, despite everything, enjoyed what he did, which was write code for the Robotics Department. He could have worked for any competing company like Atlas or Dahl with his grades and experience, but it was Hyperion that caught his eye way back when as he struggled through community college before entering a four-year program, and it was there that he had his first real taste of Hyperion tech.
Seeing as he was born without his right arm (congenital amputation, as his medical records put it), he jumped at the chance to have a prosthesis fitted when Hyperion called for volunteers for their new tech. On one hand, it could have potentially given him the limb he was always missing and somehow felt a phantom pain for, and on the other, he wouldn't be losing anything by at least trying it. And it did give him that missing piece of himself, which he was forever grateful for. His adoration for Hyperion and the work they did only grew once the operation proved successful, and when Hyperion contacted him again a few years later for a trial for companion tech to his arm, he signed up right away, not even blinking twice before signing the agreement to test out the ECHO eye.
But that was then, and this was now.
And Hyperion still paid their lower-level lackeys shit. Rhys and Vaughn needed the extra income from a roommate.
After he hit send on his reply, he went back to his code, working out the minute details on his portion of the programming before sending to the the next person in line for them to go over with a fine-toothed comb. The prototype had to be as close to perfection as possible to cut down on time for the project, which would make their Department head and by extension their CEO all the more pleased with their work.
What was that term? Happy wife, happy life?
Well, if all of Hyperion considered Handsome Jack as their wife, then yes, their lives would be much improved if he was happy. And if he wasn't, then...
Rhys had heard rumors about what happened to the last Head of Finances. All speculation and no exact truths, of course, but nonetheless everyone knew to try to stay on Handsome Jack's good side. It was better for their health in the long run. Which, funnily enough, was printed on some Hyperion made motivational posters. Literally.
"Staying on Handsome Jack's Nice List will keep you in Good Health!" above a picture of a grinning Handsome Jack, his hand forming the peace sign as his visage stared down employees from wherever it was posted. Like their CEO was Santa Claus or something, only the people on his Naughty List got something much worse than coal in their stockings.
According to the office gossip, that list had been getting pretty long lately, since various reports across the company stated Jack was making rounds in the departments, personally checking up on the progress they did or did not make. People were getting antsy, never knowing when and where their CEO would pop out of the woodwork to scare the ever living shit out of them.
C'est la vie, Rhys supposed, then opened up another project and cracked his knuckles, getting ready to do what he did best.
Vaughn had sent him a message via his ECHO communicator later that day as Rhys was getting ready to clock out, telling him that he had to stay later than usual to help his department clear up some mishap before Jack caught wind of it, and told Rhys that he'd find another way home. Rhys, being the awesome friend that he was, almost offered to wait for him in the lounge area downstairs when Vaughn sent him another message.
"Seriously bro just go home. This is gonna take all nite to fix."
Rhys tapped out a short and simple "ok" and pocketed his ECHO, trusting Vaughn to call him and let him know if he did end up needing a ride home later, and walked to the elevator. As he waited for it to come down, he pulled out his ECHO again and scrolled through some of his apps, before growing bored of that and checking his email again. Vasquez, his Department Manager and Supreme Dicklord, had sent out a floor-wide email informing them of the prototype's status, so Rhys occupied himself with reading that as he stepped into the elevator, not even looking up to push the button for the basement where'd he get off to reach the parking structure.
He was so engrossed in the email, mentally scoffing at Vasquez's word choice, that he barely noticed when the elevator stopped again to let someone else on a few floors down.The new person slid in and went to push the basement button even though it was already lit up, and continued to talk on his ECHO device. Rhys noticed the man's shoes out of the corner of his eye, sparing little more than a raised eyebrow at his choice of footwear.
Sneakers. Converse sneakers, faded black and with the white rubber scuffed up from wear and tear. How unprofessional. Had their CEO been in the elevator to see that, he might have fired the guy on the spot for such decorum.
Rhys went back to his email, clicking out of it with a frustrated huff, and opened one Vaughn had forwarded him from Athena some time after he sent his first over excited message. His elevator buddy kept talking, his voice growing louder and more pissed off as time ticked by, like he was two steps from reaching through the phone to strangle whomever was on the other side.
Wait.
"No see, you're not understanding what I'm saying, fuckwit. If that model isn't together, fault-free, in excellent working condition and ready to ship to our buyers by the time I get to my office tomorrow morning, you're the one who's going to be shipped out in a wooden crate instead, got it?"
Oh god.
"Deadlines are set for a reason, Jacobs, and it's gonna be you facing the firing squad if we don't meet this one. Figuratively, of course," Phone guy side-eyed Rhys, who had gone still as he put together the man's voice, tone, and general air of authority together. Rhys kept his head down, eyes on the screen of his ECHO, so he didn't notice the glance. "But you'll be the one answering to our buyers when their very expensive purchase isn't ready."
When that call ended, he phoned someone else, apparently making arrangements for various reports to be delivered to his secretary when he was out of his office tomorrow.
"Listen, babe, make this easy for me, yeah? I just had a shit conversation with some dumbfuck and I really don't need another one. I'll be down in Robotics tomorrow after Jacobs delivers the good news, so unless someone shows up bleeding all over my office and making a goddamn mess, don't bother me with trivial shit like paperwork."
A quiet beep signaled the end of the conversation as Handsome Fucking Jack clicked the end call button and stuffed his ECHO into his pants' pocket. Rhys didn't move a muscle and kept his eyes glued to his own ECHO, reading and re-reading the lines of Athena's reply to their ad but not really comprehending what any of it said. After what felt like forever, the elevator came to a stop with a chime as its doors slid open. Handsome Jack stepped out first, and it was only after he was a good distance away from the elevator did Rhys even think about breathing.
Once he remembered how to work his lungs, Rhys stepped out on shaky legs and made his way to his car, unlocking it and slipping inside. With one hand on the keys in the ignition and the other barely grasping his seat belt to fasten it, Rhys could only think that the rumor of their CEO climbing through the departments to check on work wasn't just a rumor.
Handsome Jack was indeed checking up on his little worker bees, and Rhys was next in line for inspection.
By the time Rhys was able to get through traffic and arrive home, it was close to seven and he was starving, so he took out a frozen pizza and popped it in the oven before heading to his room to change into comfier clothes, which included a faded black Hyperion company tee and board shorts. He kept his nifty striped socks on, though, and disengaged his arm to set it up on its charging dock for the night.
The sound of their doorbell ringing changed his planned course to the kitchen to the front door instead, where he opened it after just peeking through the peephole in the wood. In front of him, illuminated by the slightly orange light of their porch light, was a girl. She looked to be in her teens, if Rhys could take a guess, with black hair that was shaved on one side and big, blue eyes staring up at him. She was cradling a jar of what looked like honey in her hands, with a yellow, polka-dot ribbon tied around the neck of the mason jar.
"Uh,"
Eloquent, Rhys. Real smooth.
"Sorry for coming by so late! It's just that when I got back from school and came over earlier, no one was home, and well, I saw your lights come on." Rhys blinked down at her, confusion still evident in his expression. She must have noticed this, since she blushed a little at her behavior and laughed quietly, holding the jar in one hand as she held out the other for Rhys to take.
"Sorry, I'm Angel, by the way! I live next door with my dad. Sometimes, anyway. I'm usually out when he is, but-" Belatedly, Angel noticed that Rhys was unable to shake her hand, as she had offered her right one and Rhys was missing his at the moment. He had lifted his left in turn, offering her an awkward smile.
"Oh gosh, I didn't- I'm so sorry, I didn't know-" She quickly switched the jar to her other hand and took Rhys' left in hers, giving it a firm squeeze before dropping it. She mumbled another apology and looked up at him, expectantly.
"It's fine, ah, Angel, right?" At her nod, Rhys smiled again. Less awkward this time. "I'm Rhys, and yeah I just moved in with my buddy Vaughn. He's still out, though."
"Tell him I said hi and welcome to the neighborhood!" Angel gave him a wide grin and held out the jar to him. "Here, homemade honey from my dad's beehives. He bottles so much of the stuff that I've kinda started, giving it out? As apologies for his behavior..."
Beehives? Like, Mr. Lawrence's beehives?
"Wait, Mr. Lawrence is your dad? The local terror of the neighborhood?" Rhys could have kicked himself as he realized he just insulted the guy in front of his daughter, but her bubbling laughter stopped him from saying any more.
"He'd flip if he heard you call him that, but yeah." She laughed again, covering her smile with her hand. "He hasn't bothered you yet, has he?"
"Ah," Rhys lifted his hands to scratch at the back of his neck. "Actually, he's only been home for like, a day or two since we moved in. Or, you two have only been home that long, and you're the first person we've actually seen from that house so far."
"Oh, good. Usually by this time, I'm doing damage control, not preventive measures. Just, watch out, okay? Work has given him a short fuse, but I promise, he's not that bad once you get to know him. Anyway," She handed the jar of honey to Rhys and took a step back, giving him a mock salute. "It was nice meeting you, Rhys, but I should get back inside. Remember to tell your friend I said hi!"
With a final wave, she jumped down the porch steps and walked across their lawns to reach her own front door, and Rhys called out a goodbye and goodnight as she went. Distantly, he heard the timer on the oven go off, and went back to the kitchen to take out his dinner. Rhys put the honey on the counter next to the sugar jar by their coffee pot, eyeing the golden substance with a soft smile.
If Mr. Lawrence's daughter was that nice, he couldn't be so bad, could he?