Work Text:
Max was up late, again. The only light was the computer screen, illuminating her bedroom with its harsh blue glare as she clicked and scrolled late into the night. Her eyes didn’t even sting anymore.
It could happen to anyone , the people on the news had said, when talking about the new automation and the waves of layoffs coming from it. Well, sure, but she didn’t think that it could happen to her . Until it had, that is. And now? Now she was panicking by day, watching her savings evaporate into thin air to keep her housed and fed while she tried her best to find another job - anything she could take, really. Anything at all.
No one had use for an office stenographer anymore. It was all being done by computers now. Made it real difficult to find work, having to start over and throw your three years of experience right in the trash. It was proving a real headache now, because while her savings could eat her upcoming rent bill, the one after that? She wasn’t counting on that one.
Another few clicks of the mouse and keyboard, another application sent. We will get in touch with you ! the confirmation message read, and Max blearily rubbed her eyes. She hoped they would - at least one of the dozens and dozens she’d sent her resume to today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.
Honestly, she didn’t understand why she was having such a hard time.
Max took a deep drink of her coffee and clicked on yet another open position. Her vision was getting blurry with barely staved off sleep as she read the header: Can you act? Considered a position in live marketing? Low hours, high wages, training included at no cost to you.
She really wasn’t picky at this point, not even looking at the detailed description and instead scrolling directly down to the application. Name, age, list of experience. Why she thought she would be good at the job. Physical description. Aptitude tests (she had all the different aptitude tests memorized at this point.)
Max took another swig of the coffee, and her head hit the keyboard hard as snoring filled the dark apartment.
She didn’t sleep long. The email alert from her computer was too loud to ignore in any case. Maybe it’d been at least a few hours, though - she was still groggy, but early morning dim was creeping in her windows as she reached for her now-ice cold coffee and drained the rest of the cup in a single gulp.
Check the email.
Congratulations! You’ve been selected for an interview with Starr Corporation .
She almost couldn’t believe her luck. That was… well, it was quite a drive from home, but it would be worth it just to have work, and considering that the advertisement had promised low hours… maybe it would work out. Worst come to worst, she could simply get used to a long commute. Lots of people did it, after all.
Max went back to bed with a light heart.
The next morning - well, later in the same morning - she showered, pressed her shirt, and filled her travel thermos with hot, black coffee as she headed to her car.
It was a long drive, indeed, but the highways were relatively clear at this time of morning, and so she made good time. There were no cops either - lucky, because she couldn’t afford any more points on her license.
The theme park’s parking lot, though, was crowded, and the towers and buildings that loomed over it were imposing. Max had known of this place for a while, actually - she’d even been here once or twice with some friends, but she hadn’t realized fully that the address she was following was going to lead her square to the heart of it.
“I’m here for a job interview?” she asked the frosted-glass ticket booth. “My name’s Sara-”
The voice inside interrupted her before she had a chance to finish. “Ah, yes. Just go through the ticket checker - it should admit you regardless now. Once inside, just hang a left and go straight to our offices. It’s just past the Pirate Bridge.” There was a momentary pause. “Keep your soul bright.”
“Thank you?” Max shrugged and headed inside.
The air of the corporate offices, once Max opened the pleasantly decorated door, was nothing like the hustle and bustle and bright rainbow colors on the outside. Inside here, it was crisp and cool and business-like, full of muted tones and quiet colors - not at all dissimilar to the office Max had worked at before.
A man in a red pullover shirt and thick dark cargo vest was waiting for her. Though she couldn’t see through the dark sunglasses that he wore, his nametag read only ‘Park Security’ as he stepped forward to shake her hand.
“Hi, hi,” he said warmly. “Welcome to the Starr Park family. I assure you, this workplace, more than any other, is intended to be like a home to our employees. If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, please let me know.”
Max smiled, feeling immediately more at ease. “Oh, thank you, sir - that’s very kind. As a matter of fact, I-” she held up her empty thermos “-if I could bother you for a spot of coffee?”
The man nodded. “Of course, of course! But - allow me to suggest something else, if you would.” He reached behind a nearby counter, producing a garish red-and-yellow can. “This is the product that our advertised position would be working on marketing. It’s an energy drink, and though it’s not yet launched on all markets, we’ve been hearing nothing but good reviews. I’d like to make sure you like it, though - after all, it might make the work too difficult if you didn’t.”
Max nodded. “Makes sense.” She was partial to caffeine in pretty much any of its forms anyway. The pull-tab peeled away with a satisfying hiss, and the green liquid inside fizzed and foamed as Max poured it into her mouth. “Oh, wow,” she said. “That’s - that’s actually pretty great.” She frowned. “What flavor is that?”
The man was smiling. “I’m so glad you think so,” he replied. “Flavor - it’s a patent recipe designed by our food scientists, actually. I think they call this one ‘Happiness.’ I think it’s a mixture of lemons and oranges, though.”
“Well, it’s excellent.” Max gestured to her thermos. “May I?” At the positive reply, she opened it up and poured the remainder of the can inside. It was remarkably pleasant to look at it, too, she noted.
“Don’t worry,” the interviewer said. “Your position will come with plenty of tangible benefits incidentally, and a certain amount of drink on the house… will definitely be one of them.” He smiled. “Just don’t let the boss know I said that. But come now, let’s take a tour of the property where you’ll be acting and discuss your responsibilities.”
Max nodded. “Though I have to say, I - I’ve never acted before, actually. I hope that… doesn’t hurt my chances?”
“Absolutely not. Our patent-pending training program is guaranteed to get your acting skills in tip-top shape in no time at all.”
“Oh, cool. Cool.”
The tour of park grounds was relatively uneventful, all things considered. It was, after all, just a theme park. The employees they ran into seemed happy and the whole place was spotlessly clean and seemed well-managed.
Max was getting pretty excited for this, despite herself. She was especially fond of the little character design who appeared on most of the posters advertising the drink that already hung in the park. He was everywhere - even on a vending machine.
“Oh, that’s cute,” she said, pointing at the vending machine. “I have to admit, you guys have some good artists behind you. This is probably definitely the least boring vending machine I’ve ever seen.”
“Good, good,” he replied. “I’m thrilled you think so - it’ll become your best friend over time, I’m quite sure.”
Max drank the whole of her thermos by the time the interview slash tour was over, and it left her feeling pleasantly buzzed. The whole thing concluded in the gift shop of the place, which was quite near the entrance to the office - indeed, it seemed as if the buildings butted up against one another.
“Tell me,” he said. “Did you bring anyone with you here today?”
“No?”
“Ah, okay. I was only going to refund them their ticket price if you had. Wouldn’t want to put you out over that.” He pointed towards the back of the gift shop. “But never mind that. Let me introduce you to our state-of-the-art training program.”
“So I’ve got the job?” Her previous confusion was abruptly forgotten in her excitement. “Fuck yes!”
His smile was broad. “But of course.”
The gift shop was busy - just as much hustle and bustle inside as out - but Max still caught the one uncovered eye of the girl manning the cash register, and smiled confidently. The girl did not smile back, which Max thought was strange.
The hallways behind the gift shop were quiet and hummed with distant machines. Concrete and posters and fluorescent light was the dominating force here, until he gestured towards a particularly impressive-looking door after at least two minutes of walking and enough turns and twists that Max was she she’d need a map for the way back.
“In here.”
Max stepped inside, and the door slid shut behind her with a hiss.
“Hey, what’s -” she started. There was nothing in here, just a little concrete closet. She turned around, suddenly realizing that the door had shut with the man outside. “Hey!” she called. “What - what’s going?!”
His expression was unreadable behind his dark sunglasses.
A panel in the roof moved, revealing a thick nozzle - a nozzle from which began spewing forth an abundant quantity of thick and shockingly green smoke. Max began to panic. “HEY!” she yelled. “LET ME OUT - WHAT’S GOING - WHO - DON’T -” she pounded on the door, but it was heavy and metal and didn’t budge.
Her fists against the door felt weak. Her knees wobbled and shook and green gas was filling her lungs and brain, heavy with the smell of sugary, saturated caffeine - caffeine that made her drowsy instead, slurring her words and staggering to the door.
“D-d-don’t do this,” she spluttered. “Pleasssss... “
Everything was dark. Distantly she heard a hiss.
Max’s life was a pleasant one.
She stopped a criminal, or something, and then drank from her drink and smiled and turned it about so the bystanders could see the logo. She flashed a smile and pointed them to where Surge stood so they could buy the drinks for themselves, if they so chose.
Then she did it again, and again - and again, roughly every forty minutes, though Bibi seemed to take breaks when it rained particularly hard. Max didn’t mind, though - the drinks tasted good, and all the running around she did after her archnemesis sure made her thirsty anyway. Fight, win, drink. Fight, win, drink. And repeat!
They were good enough that she missed the taste come nights when Bibi went to sleep. So she borrowed from Surge some nights, whenever she got in the mood. Surge always had plenty anyway, and she drank happily and the two of them hung out together while she laughed and sometimes danced and sang. Max always won the races they had - but it made sense, for she did have the super-speed and all.
Some nights Surge had run out of drinks, and on those nights, her head hurt mightily with a vengeance. Surge would try to comfort her, but it was hard when you were so thirsty, no matter how tightly you curled up.
It was fine. Surge always had more drinks in the morning, and it made everything better.
Max drank and smiled and waved at Bibi. She was pretty, of a truth - it was hard to not notice that. Max asked Surge for advice and he offered her another drink.
Max drank, and she was happy. She had a best friend, and maybe one day Bibi would notice her too.
What else did you need?