Chapter Text
For all the dismissal and ostracism, Martin has to admit, the Archives were gorgeous. Like a library without any books, although Matin assumed the books were in the back-it was an archive after all. The guided tour was a dull affair, the girl giving him the standard walk through was droning on and on about the architect of the building. The name was vaguely familiar and it kept tugging at Martin’s throat, running off his skin like it was slippery. He didn’t care about this man but apparently his mind wanted to know more about him, the feeling didn’t sit right with Martin. Cold and rubbery in his chest.
That was when Martin first began to realise he had gone to the wrong booth during that Temporary work fair.
“Excuse me, Ms?” The secretary turned around and Martin was struck with the knowledge that this woman was younger than him and had a job more stable than his and seemed perfectly normal. Martin decided he didn’t like being struck with any knowledge so begrudgingly he asked,
“Will I be meeting anyone I’ll be working with today?” The girl bit her knuckle, looking down in thought, “Uh-’M not sure, Sasha is visiting with the Spiral today, a transfer from here works there now.”
“Uh huh,” Martin said for lack of a better word that could emphasize how lost he was in this conversation. “And of course,” she continued, “Jon is never available, don’t ask unless he specifically tells you he needs a bit of your time.” Martin knew who Jon was, a friend of his was working the recruitment booth at the fair Martin’s college was hosting. She gushed and gushed about how Jon was behind several scathing remarks and a vivid description of an overall shitty person she had grown to be fond of. Martin was not interested in meeting Jon for as long as he could stand it.
“Hey,” the girl called over to a man bent over a clipboard, the words, ‘Artifacts,’ we printed neatly on a sticker buttoned to the man’s lapel, “do you know where Tim is?” The man flushed, running a dark palm over his face, “I’m not sure where Tim is, sorry?” He ducked his head from the conversation and scurried off.
“Uhm-what’s with him, is he alright,” Martin asked. The woman shrugged, “He doesn’t want anyone to know but he and Tim hook up after work, but like everyone in the office knows.” Her pocket buzzed and the woman pulled out a phone, “Ah! Tim just posted a picture of him in the Strand. He’s probably doing research for a statement then.” She nodded and turned back to Martin, “That’s what you’ll be doing for the next six months. When Jon asks you he’ll send you off to some place for back up information and then you’ll record the information-it’s a whole process that I’m sure you wouldn’t understand if I just word vomited alluv’ that on you-oh!” She yanked Martin over to the corner down a vast hallway, “There’s Melanie, you met her at the fair, I trust?”
Martin craned his neck to look at all the portraits of imposing white males with the Archive’s history printed below their plaques. The eyes were what really drew Martin in, the eyes followed you everywhere. And that’s when Martin began to feel like he was being watched.
“Melanie,” the woman called, hailing Melanie over, “The Temp is here.” She paused, releasing Martin’s sleeve and turning back to the man, “I am so sorry, just pause for a second.” She sucked in a breath and shouted, “Melanie!” She began to stop over to the woman, gnashing her teeth and chanting her name over the heads of several baffled spectators.
Martin shrunk closer to the portraits and avoided the eyes of passing watchers. He shrunk into his hoodie, “It’s just the crowd,” he promised himself.
“That’s what I thought on the first day,” someone said. Martin squeaked, jumping back from the voice. He tossed his hands over his chest protectively, “St-stay back.” Martin paused as the lash he expected did not come.
“You’re jumpy, aren’t you?” The man grinned through a mat of dark tangled hair that fell over his face, “Funny, you’re going to lose that reflex here, real quick.”
“Who’re you,” Martin demanded, stepping farther away from punk’s lovechild with maladaptive coping habits. He reeked of alcohol and smoke. At first Martin thought it was smoke from a cigarette but the underlying scent of dirt wasn’t there, it was just smoke. “I’m Gerard Keay, Senior Archival assistant, you can call me Gerry,” Martin’s mouth twisted into a grimace, “Are you alright, you look like you’ve been in an accident, there’s dirt all over your clothes,” he wrinkled his nose and the layer of grime on his coat. Gerry’s smirk fell,
“Do you think I’m dirty?” Martin backed away, stammering, “I mean-”
“Because I was thinking that but I thought maybe I could get at least one more day out of it, but then my mom said I couldn’t use the washer until she was done, so I didn’t have any clothes and than,” he shrugged, “It’s just a whole dead but I can’t get my own apartment because she needs assistance, but she was the one who got herself into that mess in the first place!” Martin nodded, once again lost in the one sided conversation.
“Tell me you didn’t ask about his mother.” Martin turned to see Melanie, carrying a handful of large books.
“No, I didn’t-Hey, uh Melanie!” He rushed forward, “It’s so great to see you again, I was just wondering who I would be working with.” Melanie shrugged her books into Gerard’s arms with a frown, “So far you’ve met Gerry and me, who else have you heard about?” Martin struggled to unknot his stomach, “I-uh, well, I heard about Tim and a Sasha, as well as Jon. But that’s it.” Melanie hummed, “Well that’s pretty much it, other than Basira. Our happy little Archival family.” She snickers at her own joke, “Come on, we’ll get you set up downstairs.”
Martin followed after the two of them, for a second he considered that maybe they were a couple, they walked so closely together it seemed so intimate. And then he heard the whispers and realized they were arguing silently trying to keep Martin unaware. Martin strained his ear to hear over the crowds.
“What’s been going on with you lately, you’re nothing like you used to be, before you were quiet and sullen now you’re moody and sullen-Sasha tells me you stared into your coffee for a full hour during your lunch break.”
“I’m fine.” They turned away from each other and stomped farther ahead, leaving Martin in a confused frenzy to catch up.