Chapter Text
Dragging myself to work is a chore.
No matter how much sleep I’d gotten the last night, I’d wake up exhausted. My bed might as well have a gravitational pull. Despite my urges to quit and sleep forever, I would get up. On days like these, I’d skip a shower. It’s not like I’m being paid to look pretty- It’s Alchemax after all.
I should’ve mentioned that earlier. Sure- Jobs in general aren’t great (Unless you are one of the lucky few who got a job in their degree), but the labs' cold, sterile, and dry environment is a huge downer. I couldn’t count the number of dead, pale faces I see daily on one hand. When I talk to people about this, they’re usually all, “But isn’t it so rewarding? You’re working to further our scientific knowledge of the world and help people!”. If bringing nerds coffee and food all day is ‘furthering our scientific knowledge of the world’, then maybe I do have the best job ever.
After ignoring personal hygiene, I’d throw on the same tired work shirt. Maybe 3-4 times a year, Alchemax will give us some lousy employee engagement shirt with a corny pun on it. I’m sure the higher-ups love it, but I’m getting tired of wearing the same science joke every morning.
I would throw on the shirt that’s the cleanest, before pulling myself to the kitchen. It’s very dull, with a mess from last night’s dinner that my roommate didn’t care to clean up. Typical. I lazily toss whatever lunch I had prepared last night into my bag, grabbing an energy drink as I do. I know it’s gonna kill me, but without them, work would kill me first.
I crack the drink open and grab my phone from my pocket. No notifications, just a clock that told me I had 10 minutes to get to work. In NYC at 6 am…I’d probably get there in 20. I sigh and head towards the door, taking another sip from the can. Whatever, it’s not like I’m an ‘essential worker’.
That’s usually what I think about while commuting to work. Tiredly walking to the subway station, wondering why I hadn’t been fired yet. In my 6 months of working, I’ve seen too many lower-level assistants like myself be canned. Like it or not, these nerds have a lot of power at this company. I once knew a decently recent hire who got fired for looking at the wrong guy in an “interrogative and unfriendly manner”. I’m not the friendliest guy, and I can certainly have a resting “I’m going to kill your family” face. So why, after all this time, am I still working here?!
While in my thoughts, I had pretty much zombie-walked through the station. It’s not like there’s anything new. I flash my card and go to the same station…same time…every day. I’ve even found myself remembering the faces of the other frequent riders. Other tired adults are getting to work, and teenagers are getting to school. I’ve never seen another Alchemax employee, though. Probably because the majority are rich scientists with cars. Must be nice.
The subway ride was done in what felt like an instant. The train came to a harsh stop and emitted an ear-piercing screech as the brakes worked. I maneuvered through the morning crowd and walked up the steps to see it…The Alchemax building.
-
I find myself in the same damn break room every day, holding a list of each scientist’s drink orders. Though it was quite useless. These nerds are so predictable, I could make them a coffee in my sleep. I’m not even doing much anyway- It’s a Keurig for god’s sake! Grab a cup, put in the flavor pod, and click a button. What in the world could be so important that they can’t even do that? I try not to gripe as much aloud. If they could make their coffee, I’d be out of a job. Probably flipping burgers. Count your blessings, I suppose.
I balance the hot cups in my arms, going door to door like a coffee deliveryman, which isn’t far off from my job description. By the end of the hallway, I had just one coffee in my hand. At 8:10 too- making decent time for once. The coffee in question was for a scientist many of my current and past assistant coworkers HATED, for one reason or another. Over my time here, I’ve heard about how messy his office is, how crazy he is, and most importantly…How picky he is with his food and drink orders. This is, of course, Dr. Ohnn.
He’s one of Alchemax’s most esteemed employees, apparently working on something huge. He’s always been cramped up in his office, especially now. After all the time I’ve “known” him…He doesn’t seem like the guy they make him out to be. Well, except the picky part. He does order the same black coffee every day, after all.
I gently knock at the large door, peering through the frosty glass to see many blurry computer screens. After a moment, I hear an exacerbated exhale, before a gentle “come in”.
Using way too much force, I push the door open, and I’m greeted by the same messy office. Papers are scattered nearly everywhere, the trash can is overflowing, and empty cups litter the space of his desk alongside more documents. At just a glance, I could tell they were months old. There was barely a light source in the room, just a dusty old desk lamp that’s probably older than me. While the mess seems overwhelming to me, there’s an order to his chaos. The cups, while trash, were lined up precisely, and the papers were laid out in patterns. I almost admire how he can be lazy so efficiently.
“Just set it down there.”
Dr. Ohnn spoke quietly, still hunched over his keyboard. He gestured towards a coaster that was just as tired and overworked as himself. He doesn’t make eye contact, which I’m used to by now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes outside of his keycard picture, and all the awards he had hung up outside his office.
His hair is a deep brown that flows right down to his collarbone. It’s accompanied by a thick, scruffy beard that covers his lower face. Both are speckled with gray hairs, either because he’s nearly 40 or the time crunch these execs are pushing him through. He’s got a strong nose that holds up his massive pair of nerdy glasses over his eyes…and oh, his eyes. I couldn’t get them out of my brain. It’s probably good that I don’t see them too often.
I finally sat down the (probably cold by now) coffee on the coaster, taking a quick moment to observe my surroundings a second time. My eyes are immediately drawn to the overflowing can and the myriad other pieces of trash scattered around his office. I can’t help but take pity on him. So…I offer.
“Uhm…It’s…pretty crazy in here. Could I possibly help you out? Even a little…”
I ask awkwardly. Technically, I’m not paid to do this, but it’s not like I have anything to do before lunch.
It takes him a second to register my words. After a moment of dead silence, Dr. Ohnn swivels his chair to face me, seemingly trying to assess what I meant by “crazy”. His eyes dart between me and the end of his desk (which, admittedly, makes me a little flushed), before speaking again in a similar direct, but nervous tone.
“Yeah…I guess- Uhm. The papers in the trash need to be shredded. You can take the cups too.”
The second he got his words out, the doctor moved his chair again to face his computer. I might’ve been imagining it, but I swore that there was a faint blush on his cheeks.
I push that thought to the back of my head for later. Right now, I have a job to do. I pick up the heavy can and- wait.
“Hey, uh…Where would I find the shredder?”
That was such a stupid question, but it's not like I normally shred confidential information. He raised one hand, lazily waving to the left.
“When you’re about to leave, it should be on your left. Two doors down. The door isn’t labeled…Thank you.”
He was…blunt. Not exactly rude, but very direct. At least I can appreciate the zero-nonsense vibe.
I follow his instructions closely, I don’t have time to dilly-dally when I’m carrying a trash can that’s probably half my weight.
-
I use my back to push open the heavy door, greeted by yet another dark room. It felt almost like a supply cabinet. With a quick glance around, I notice it—the shredder. I’m surprised the poor thing even works anymore. Above it were detailed paper instructions on how to get it working…laminated. Yeah, that’s Alchemax for you.
I pull out the papers, individually feeding them into the janky machine. I can’t help but be a little nosy, sneaking a look at each document before sliding it through. I could get into some real deep shit for this, but it’s kind of Dr. Ohnn’s fault for allowing this anyways.
Most of the papers were discarded and nearly incomprehensible notes–Boring. Printed plans that had failed–Boring. Kind of. I found lots of scrapped designs for a “collider” of some kind. Must be what all this fuss is about. When I tried to read them, however, it was like trying to decipher an ancient language. Too much technical jargon for me, shred it.
More and more boring papers later, I find myself halfway through the can. That’s about when things get…weird.
Amongst the design layouts and equations for this collider lay a couple of unopened letters. Sent by…Dr. Octavius..Addressed to my work locker?
I stare at them for a moment, mortified. Olivia…is intimidating to say the least. As a person in general, and a boss. Little did I know in my own little snoop-sesh I’d find my own mail. I look around briefly for signs of any cameras or people. When the coast is clear, I pocket the envelopes.
I don’t want to hear it, you would’ve done the same!
-
The rest of the can goes by quickly, mostly because I’m extremely out of it. I start to have a lot of questions– about Octavius, about Alchemax…and specifically Dr. Ohnn. Maybe he was a little (or A LOT) off after all.
I swallow heavily and pick up the can. I need to pull myself together already, it’s almost lunch.
I have a much easier time getting back to Dr. Ohnn’s office this time. I shift the can to my left hand and push open his office door…without warning. The moment the sound registers, I see Dr. Ohnn frantically closing tabs on his monitor, before turning to face me with a frazzled expression. Like I caught him red-handed. He’s really bad at being sneaky.
He stares at me with that look for a second. I could almost see the gears turning in his head before he connected the dots.
“Oh…Thank you. Now– I’m sure you must be going. Yknow- assistant stuff. Cuz…You’re really busy, lots of work– Really underappreciated.”
Annnnnd now he’s rambling to fill the gap. I very carefully set the can down in place before turning back towards the door.
“It’s no problem, doctor. I’ll…see you soon.”
With that, the door closes behind me.
Man. That guy is WEIRD.