Chapter 16
The jacket haunted Rhys for days, and days turned into a week.
There was nothing special about it. It was an old, worn leather jacket with creases in the elbows from repeated use and the smell of Jack’s cologne ingrained into the material. It’s color was dulled with age and the manufacturer tag was faded, making it unable to read.
The only remarkable thing about it was that it indeed belonged to one Handsome Jack Lawrence, CEO of Hyperion and Rhys’ next door neighbor.
Rhys almost wanted to burn it.
But he didn’t, and if he gently folded it up and carried it home with more care than strictly necessary, then that was his business, thank you very much. If he took it to the dry cleaners with special instructions to not harm the old thing, then that wasn’t anyone else’s business, either.
(When he got it back, he was delighted to find that Jack’s cologne still clung to it, and something decidedly giddy twisted in his belly as he pressed the jacket to his nose.)
Unfortunately, Rhys hadn’t been able to find the time to return it to Jack, and with the way things went in their last conversation, Rhys wasn’t too sure he even wanted to see the man again. The tenseness in his shoulders as he left, the way his fists clenched at his sides, and how Jack’s eyes dulled as he realized how set Rhys was in his answer…
Rhys even cringed as he walked by the usual Hyperion motivational posters that were mounted on the company walls.
So Rhys left the jacket neatly hanging in his closet for a week, and though its presence haunted him every time he opened his closet, it was pushed to the back of his mind by the time he and Vaughn arrived at Hyperion proper to continue on with the daily grind. The company was shifting again, rearranging the hierarchy and putting people in their places. Since the Torgue Incident™, the Board of Directors and upper management were much more thorough in picking new interns, employees, and promoting those deserving of it, which caused waves of unease to wash over everyone else.
Things were changing inside of Hyperion, and it was because of Rhys. The last time changed like this occurred was when Jack took the top seat.
The company man swallowed his discomfort down and parted ways with Vaughn in the elevator, giving him a thumbs up as the doors closed. The rest of the ride up to his department was quiet, even when it seemed like the entirety of Pharmaceutical decided to pile in at one point. Rhys shuffled into a back corner of the elevator and sighed, squeezing his limbs as close to himself as possible.
It was certainly turning out to be a great day.
With some luck, Rhys managed to keep the ranks within his own department relatively untouched aside from finding a replacement for the one man he fired. Which was good, honestly, because they were swamped with projects and deadlines to meet. R&D was pushing out more prototypes, which meant both the Robotics and Programming departments had their work cut out for them. Interns scurried about the floor, arms laden with paperwork and coffee cups, cheeks flushed from exertion, and the employees in the cubicles resembled zombies more than they did humans.
Rhys dodged one intern as he made his way across the department floor, moving out of the way just before she crashed into him, and decided he would make some rounds before he settled into his own office. A little encouragement from the department head could go a long way in times like these, and Rhys was sure he could provide some tips and pointers for anyone stuck on code that just seemed out of their reach, or help a few interns with their regular afternoon espresso deliveries.
The department head leaned in a cubicle at random and tapped it occupant on the shoulder, smiling warmly at them as they turned around, eyes glassy from staring at their computer screen for too long.
“Mind if I peek?”
Rhys couldn’t deny that the way his employee’s face lit up made his day just the tiniest bit better.
“ Rhhysss. ”
The man in question perked up from where he was leaning against a cubicle desk and looked over the thin, short walls that separated everyone. His name was called again, followed by a hand waving at him weakly, raising up over the wall the call the manager over.
“I’m going to go over and see what they need, alright?” Rhys asked his current charge, again smiling warmly at them as they waved him off with a tired thank you and an earnest godspeed, manager.
Rhys left his employee, Mason he believed, and journeyed to the next person in need. He found them lying face first on their keyboard, mouth slightly open and eyes practically dead, but they still found the energy to wave at him, this time brandishing a file and waving it lazily in the air until Rhys took it.
“What’s this-”
“An overview of some companion bot’s progress.” Said the employee, sitting up from their position to lean back in their chair, head tipping over the back of it. From this angle, Rhys could see all the smudged fingerprints and dust lining the lenses of their glasses. “I tried emailing it to Handsome Jack but there were mistakes in the original file and I’ve been running on three hours of sleep, so when I tried to fix it, I just made more mistakes and kept re-sending it and now Handsome Jack has my email blocked from his servers and I need to get it to him and-”
“Uhp,” Rhys silenced his employee’s ramblings with a tsk and gently swatted their arm with the file. “So you want me to deliver this to Jack?”
The employee, Dillard, Rhys gleaned from their name tag, sat up in their seat and pushed their glasses up the bridge of their nose, nodding nervously. “I’d ask one of the interns but they’re all too scared of Jack still to even attempt it, and I’d do it but I still need to finish going over the code for the service bots due later this month.”
Rhys hummed and bit his lip gently-
“Plus, everyone kinda thinks you’re closer to him, so. You know,” Dillard grinned sheepishly at him and pushed their glasses up again. “You’re the safest one to send.”
Rhys sputtered and choked on his own spit, face rapidly flushing pink which he tried to cover with the file in his hands. Dillard looked at him funny until Rhys cleared his throat and thumped his chest a few times, eyes closed as he silently asked for patience and the ability to not be a total idiot.
“Right, uh yeah, sure. Let’s- let’s go with that, I guess. Okay, whew,” Rhys fanned his face with the file as he started to back out of the cubicle, sending a mock salute to Dillard. They returned it with a hesitant smile. “I’ll get this up to the big man himself, no problem. ”
“Uh, thank you?”
The awkward tilt of Dillard’s voice was no match for the gait Rhys adopted as he walked away, or the feeling of suddenly having two left feet as he marched to the elevator. The file was getting crinkled in his grasp, and he was sure there would be small stains from the oil and sweat on his skin. Rhys nervously pushed back his hair as he climbed into the elevator and tried to even his breathing, but every intake felt like he was inhaling the thickest smoke.
The double doors leading to Jack’s office were imposing as always, and Stacey’s glare was especially chilling that day. Rhys tried to squash down his own discomfort as Stacey buzzed him in, but it all returned full-force as Jack gave him permission to enter.
He swallowed heavily, his custom-made prosthetic clenching at his side, and stepped into Jack’s office, trying to keep his head high.
(And failing. One look at Jack’s desk and Rhys’ gaze was trained on his boots as he walked into the room.)
Rhys didn’t raise his eyes to look at Jack until he reached his desk, the wooden surface gleaming with the afternoon sun. The CEO never once looked up at him, not even as Rhys placed the file directly in his line of sight.
“Thanks, cupcake.”
Not Rhysie or Rhys.
Cupcake.
Rhys bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.
“It’s from Dillard in my department. They’ve been trying to email it to you all day but there was something about you blocking their address.” Determination alone kept his voice even as he spoke, but it did nothing to stop the trembling in his limbs. Rhys’ legs felt like jelly as he stared down at Jack, all but screaming at the man to fucking look at him.
“Yeah,” And Jack did, he did look up at him, but the look in his eyes made Rhys want to sink into the floor. “And I said thanks, cupcake. Now get the hell out of my office.”
The snarl on his lips made Rhys move faster than he ever had in his life, heart beating wildly and for all the wrong reasons.
When Jack finished his work that day, he took his private elevator up to his penthouse and sagged against the wall as it climbed. There would be no Angel there to greet him as he stepped into the threshold of the penthouse, and he wouldn’t be returning to his suburban home to face the brunt of her attitude either. These thoughts weighed heavy on his shoulders as his feet dragged, shoes scuffing the floor through his penthouse with each step.
Jack shrugged, the familiar weight of his jacket missing, and slumped on the sofa, not even bothering to undo his vest or toe off his shoes. His ECHO device was a prominent presence in his pocket, as if burning a hole through the material, and he itched to message at least one of them.
Angel, Rhys.
Fuck, he had messed shit up with both of them. Not even his own flesh and blood bothered to spare him a glance and Rhys?
Well, Jack was just digging that hole deeper. He might hit the center of the earth before he mustered up the courage to not screw his chances with the man into the ground.
Still, Jack found his hand curling around his ECHO, thumb hovering over the call button next to Angel’s name. Her picture grinned up at him from the screen, an old photo he had taken on one of their beach trips last summer. Her freckles stood out even more against the light, the sun bringing them out more than ever, and he longed to kiss her cheeks and her button nose again.
The ache in his chest deepened, and he pressed the call button.
It rung a few times before there was the telltale click of someone answering on the other side, and as Angel tentatively answered hello..? , Jack momentarily felt his heart stop.
He just missed his baby girl so much.
“Angel, sweetheart, I-” There was nothing on the other end, and the only reason Jack knew she was still in the call was because he pulled his ECHO away to make sure she hadn’t disconnected. “I’m sorry. ”
Silence met his apology and Jack held his breath, wanting to reach through the phone to hug Angel close and wanting to chuck it against the wall in the same moment. It was a while longer before he heard anything, and even then it was only the slightest intakes of air as Angel took another pause before speaking.
“You couldn’t tell me this in person?” Her voice was soft, trembling. “You always do this-”
“I’m not good with- with,” Jack scrambled for the words, almost choking on them, the truth aching in his throat. “With emotional confrontations. I can’t- Angel, baby, it’s easier for me like this-”
"What about me? What about what’s easier for me, Jack?” Accusation, biting, ripping into his heart and sounding so much like her mother that Jack wanted to rip his hair out. “You just, you basically told me that I was- that I’m stupid or something! Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about!”
“I never meant to imply that you’re anything less than genius, sweetheart,” Jack could practically feel her glare through the phone as he tried to keep his voice even and calm. “But I’m sorry I made you feel that way nonetheless. It’s...difficult to explain, baby doll-”
“Try me.”
Jack took a deep breath and leaned back onto his sofa, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and trying to achieve more comfort than he was actually feeling.
“You understand to an extent, sweetheart, but not entirely . And I know, I know how things seems when you’re young, when everything seems easy and simple and like it can be solved within seconds, but it’s not,” Another shuddering breath, and he was sure Angel could hear the nerves in his voice across the phone. “It’s not like that, and not every situation can be solved as easily as you think it can.”
“But if you just talk to him-”
“And risk him rejecting everything? Baby, just because you see things one way does not mean that’s how they actually are. If he doesn’t return even an ounce of affection, then I’m risking ruining a perfectly good friendship and work relationship.”
Silence reigned supreme once more, Angel’s soft breaths coming in gentle huffs across the line as Jack struggled to not throw his phone on the floor, hand clenching around his ECHO.
“Angel,” He began, voice weary and tired. “Please just trust me on this, sweetpea. And I know you hate to hear it, but this is definitely something you’ll understand when you get older.
“....Alright, papá.”
A pattern developed over the next week between Rhys and Jack, and it only served to set Rhys on edge, his teeth grinding at every mention of Handsome Jack, CEO and Douchebag of the Year.
They would meet in the lobby sometimes, whether it was the early morning or late evening it didn’t matter, but Jack would look at him once, hold some emotion in his eyes, and then look away as if Rhys didn’t even exist. Rhys one-upped him and didn’t even bother to really look at Jack. He was nothing more than another face in the crowd, and his avoidance of the man caused him to miss every glare and furrow of Jack’s brows.
It was harder to avoid making eye contact and small talk when they got stuck in the elevator together, even more so to ignore the other’s existence completely. Jack always climbed in a few floors after Rhys entered the box, and he always seemed to stutter in his steps when he noticed Rhys was inside. The CEO would either proceed to scowl at him from the opposite corner without so much as a hello , or he would greet the Robotics head and then immerse himself in his ECHO device.
Rhys grimaced and clutched at his sides. He didn’t know what was worse, seeing clumsy proof that Jack was just as nervous as he was at times, or suffering through the glare and indifference. Both made him wish that the elevator floor would just drop out from underneath him and plunge both of them down the elevator shaft, lost to darkness and the depths of Hyperion.
The absolute worst was board meetings, however. Jack called them more often due to the shifting climate in the company and wanted feedback from his metaphorical round table, and as the Head of Robotics, Rhys had a mandatory invitation to each one.
The meetings themselves weren’t bad, and it was good to hear about what was happening in the rest of the company. Many of his fellow upper managers had plenty of insight to share and valuable opinions on the current state of Hyperion. Rhys himself even managed to wow a few of them with one of his reports.
No, the terrible part was Jack’s treatment during these meetings.
Every time without fail, Jack would push Rhys’ report to the very end, and it wasn’t because he was saving the best for last. No, Rhys was forced to present to a room of people that were tired and just wanted to leave , faced with their nearly-blank stares and stifled yawns behind polite hands. And Jack-
Jack would pull out his ECHO and tap away at the screen, not even bothering to pay attention to what Rhys had to say. Or he would turn to someone else and whisper with them, though Rhys could tell by the way the recipient would pale that nothing Jack had to say was good. Once, Jack even got up from his seat and walked out of the room altogether, effectively ending the meeting since no one saw any reason to be there if the CEO himself didn’t see fit to sit through the rest of it.
And then it happened a second time and Rhys-
Rhys was tired.
Jack left the room and a hush fell over everyone, quickly followed by that awful, awkward air of secondhand embarrassment and pity. Rhys dropped his report files on the table before he threw them at someone’s face in flustered anger and packed his things up before anyone else could move, shoving papers and pens into his bag with more force than necessary, and he left.
Rhys didn’t stop walking until he was at the bus stop outside, hands shaking as they clutched his ECHO, trying to send a text to Vaughn.
‘Left early, had an intern take the car keys to you. See you at home.’
The house was empty when Rhys returned, both Vaughn and Athena still at work, and his pain at being outright insulted like that for a second time , by Handsome Jack no less, stung so badly that he was stuck with tunnel vision until he was in the safety of his home, not even noticing Jack’s sleek, black car in the driveway next door.
Once inside, Rhys collapsed against the door, hot tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Why was Jack being like this, he asked himself, why the fuck was Jack yanking him around like this. There were so many mixed signals coming from the man and Rhys didn’t even know where to start. The touching and the pet names, the fucking arm that was worth more than his own car, the overheard conversation between father and daughter-
Rhys pressed the heel of his flesh hand into his eye, fighting back tears.
If any part of that argument was true, then why the fuck was Jack acting like this? Like he was trying to push him away? What was the point? Was Jack so against human emotion that his solution to feeling anything for anyone other than his own daughter was to cut them from his life?
How does anyone live like that?
Rhys sobbed against his palm for a few minutes before he decided that he was being absolutely childish about the whole thing and bit his lip to stop from gasping and heaving. He genuinely liked Jack, even though he was an asshole at work. He was- Jack was something else, something new and strange and altogether intriguing, and every facet drew Rhys to him like a moth to flame and he nearly hated himself for it.
He was falling for a single father with a bee farm and a billion dollar corporation.
People don’t do that.
“I’m a fucking mess, ” Rhys sighed, rubbing a hand down his heated face.
Rhys heaved himself from the front door and trudged to his room, feet dragging like he was walking to the gallows, ready to be hung. He was just so tired, mentally and emotionally exhausted from the events both at home and at work, and all he wanted to do was relax in his own bed. He ventured to his dresser and dug out a pair of sweats and threw them on the bed, followed by an old band shirt that was used more for sleeping than everyday use, and then went to his closet to hang up his vest and tie.
Rhys stilled, eyes immediately landing on the neat, dry cleaned jacket hanging in his closet.
Fuck.
All the day’s frustrated seemed to well up in him at that moment, and instead of his childish fit at the door, Rhys felt it all mount into rage. He tore the jacket down from it hanger and clenched the material in his fists, delighting in the small, soft creaks the leather gave as he did so. With decidedly more purpose and direction than he had before, Rhys marched out of his room and back out of the front door, fully intending on throwing the vile clothing article in the garbage.
A glint caught his eye, leading it to the car in the driveway next door.
Rhys stopped right before the garbage can on his curb and stared at the car, mind processing what it meant and the new possibilities before him. Without much further thought, Rhys stomped his way over to Jack’s front door, knocking until somebody answered. When he noticed that it was Angel and not her father, his expression softened considerably.
“Angel,” The teenager gave him a confused wave in turn. “Where’s your father, sweetness? I need to speak with him.”
“He’s in the backyard...Is everything okay, Rhys?”
“Everything will be okay in a moment. How do I get to-”
Angel gently took him by the hand, pointedly not saying anything about the jacket in his other one, and led him to the backdoor. The wooden door was open to let in a breeze, but the screen door was shut and distorted the image of the yard outside. Rhys couldn’t see clearly through it, but he knew Jack was in a far corner, kneeling down by some flower bushes.
“Thank you, Angel.” He left the teenager at the door, not bothering to look back to catch her expression or the slightly giddy giggle that left her mouth.
“Jack,” He called, making sure his voice carried across the yard. Rhys saw Jack’s shoulder stiffen and grinned inwardly. “Jack Lawrence, I have a few choice words to share with you.”
Jack rose up on his haunches before coming to a complete standing position, turning towards Rhys with tense shoulders and a scowl most fierce. He had hedge clippers in one hand and a cut flower in the other, its petals a soft yellow.
“What are you doing in my backyard-”
Whump!
Jack’s jacket met his face with a soft thump and fell to his feet, crumpled and sad. Jack blinked at it in disbelief before he looked up at Rhys again, face morphing into a snarl.
“What the fuck-"
“No!” Rhys said, coming right up into Jack’s face, pointing a sleek, chrome finger at him. “ You do not get to talk right now, not after the bullshit you’ve been putting me through.”
Jack, surprisingly enough, stayed quiet, staring at Rhys like he had grown a second head.
(Really, he was just trying to get over the fact that he was falling head over heels in love with this gangly mess of a man who had the guts to snap at him like he did.)
“First you practically drown me in attention. There’s the touching and the praise and the- the invasion of my personal space! You ripped my number from my records without even asking, you spoil me with this ludicrously expensive prosthetic, and then you just-” Rhys whined, brows furrowing. “You just dropped me as soon as I turned down the offer to be your PA. Just...just like that,”
“Rhys,” Jack made an attempt to reach out to him, dropping the clippers onto the grass away from their feet, but Rhys was having none of it.
“I’m confused, Jack, I don’t know what you want from me and I can’t keep this up.” Rhys wanted to sob, already feeling his face heat up. “I can’t-”
Rhys looked at Jack, tears brimming in his eyes, and took the moment of Jack’s stunned silence to examine him. His skin was getting darker than it already was from being out in the sun, and he had freckles dotting his skin. Lighter than Timothy’s, but still present. There was dirt smudged on his cheeks and up the bridge of his nose, which Rhys was sure Jack didn’t even notice, and-
And there was a honey bee making a home in Jack’s hair, gently crawling along his curls and twitching its wings before taking flight and buzzing away to the colonies in the other corner of the yard. Rhys, paying no mind to Jack, watched the bee and followed its path, letting a soft, surprised smile overtake his face. Jack’s garden was certainly something.
Flora and fauna crawled everywhere, blooming in nearly every shade of the rainbow, partnered with bees just doing their job and collecting pollen for their hives. Tall trees provided ample shade for the yard, and the grass beneath their feet was brilliantly green. Rhys looked back to Jack, back to the dirt on his cheeks and the bees flying around him.
Oh goddamn it,
“Fuck you,” Rhys grabbed Jack by the collar of his mangy, yellow, eyesore of a sweater and pulled him close. “And your fucking bee farm.” Their lips met in a rough kiss that Rhys hoped conveyed his emotions more accurately. He pulled the CEO closer, or tried to, as Jack was still holding onto the flower between them and Rhys didn’t want to crush it.
But,
But Jack wasn’t responding.
He was stiff against Rhys, body tense like he was ready to bolt, and when Rhys backed away he saw that Jack’s eyes were wide and staring at him like he had just murdered someone. Instantaneously, Rhys felt his heart drop to his stomach. He felt it drop and be devoured by his stomach acid, and the only relief from the pain would be disappearing forever. That elevator shaft seemed so comfortable in that moment, dark and deep and just enough to insure Rhys would never be seen again.
Jack would probably push him down if his expression was anything to go by.
“Well I seem to have,” Rhys patted down the wrinkles in Jack’s sweater, refusing to look him in the eyes. “To have ruined everything beyond repair.”
Rhys didn’t give Jack time to react and quickly turned on his heel, almost running to the back door and yanking it open, nearly crashing into Angel on his way in. He was out the front door and halfway across his own front lawn before Jack did anything, and that was to only run through his own house, Rhys’ name on his lips and movements frantic. Jack threw open his front door just in time to see Rhys slam his shut.