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Brett had been fidgeting all morning. Something was up. Reagan could not possibly be more suspicious of him than she was in this moment - for all she knew, he could have been a sleeper agent this entire time, and something finally set him off, and now he was having a hard time pretending to be Brett so he was nervous and --
Reagan swallowed down more coffee. It was too early to be consumed by paranoid delusions. That wasn't on her schedule until 10 A.M.
"So," she continued, "that's why we have to actually get some shit done today. Because if my shitweed dad cuts our budget again, we won't even be able to afford the knock off tech. We're already suffering enough using budget brand lasers. Don't put me through that shit," she finished with a sigh. She knew they were absolutely going to put her through that shit. It came with the territory.
She slumped down in her chair, continuing to nurse her coffee. She'd said her bit, and now it was time for everybody to start bitching all at once. Sweet Jesus, she hated this job sometimes.
Everyone did speak up - everyone except for Brett, who sat at his section of the table, fidgeting with his hands and bouncing his legs. She internally shrugged. She'd probably have to ask him what was up - that was her duty as a friend.
Tuning the rest of the gang out, she stood up and tapped on Brett's shoulder to prompt him to follow her. She stepped outside of the conference room, Brett not far behind.
"What's your deal?" she asked, not turning to see how closely he was following. She could tell he wasn't far behind - he never was. He was a man who liked to close the distance.
"Uh," Brett spoke. "Nothing! It's - I'm - nothing. Nothing is wrong, haha," he laughed nervously. "I definitely didn't stay up all night curating an awesome playlist for you because I thought it would be a fun thing to do and now I'm too nervous to show it to you because I'm scared you'll think it was stupid and not want to talk to me because you think I'm weird! Definitely not that."
Reagan stopped, turning to raise an eyebrow at Brett.
"You... made me a mixtape?"
Brett grimaced. "I... didn't not make you a mixtape."
Huh. To Reagan, it was a little strange, but something like that was so authentically Brett.
He reached into his pocket slowly and offered her a flash drive. It was nondescript - the best kind of flash drive.
"Uh, thanks," Reagan offered. "I'll listen to it on my lunch break."
"You don't have to!" Brett responded, a little bit too loudly. Reagan found herself slightly wincing. "I'm sorry, I mean... you don't have to," he spoke quietly.
"I know," she replied.
"Really. I won't be offended. It's fine."
"I know."
"It's stupid."
Reagan sighed. "No, it's not," she stated. "I think it's... cute."
Brett flushed. "You do?"
"Yeah," Reagan shrugged. "It's stupid, but so is everything that you do. So it's not really more stupid than your usual bullshit. And, really, I have a minimum quota of stupid I expect from you in a day - this doesn't exceed that, so I don't really even consider it's stupid. It's sweet in a Brett way."
Brett beamed. "I'm glad you think so! Ooh, maybe I'll make you another one on my lunch break."
Reagan offered a very obviously fake smile. "Sure. You do that, buddy."
Reagan sat at her computer, plugging in the flash drive. She supposed now would be as good a time as any to check out this playlist Brett made her.
She loaded up the file, noticing that the songs were numbered in a particular order.
You're My Best Friend - Queen
And I Love You - Rich Boy
In - Carrie: The Musical
A - Barem
Friendly Way - Relaxing Music For Bath Time
But Also - plo tha
You Confuse Me - Jeff Laine & co.
a lot - 21 Savage
and - Eden
Whenever I Am - INUMOKUWANEEYO
Around You - Harrison
My Chest Hurts - Samurai Sword
In A Good Way - Faye Webster
Please Do Not - Windorias
THINK I AM - SPACED
weird! - YUNGBLUD
Reagan's eyebrows raised. None of this was music Brett liked... well, maybe Queen, but the rest was definitely not in his musical wheelhouse. Clearly, he was trying to tell her something. She just wasn't sure what.
"Brett," Reagan began. Brett had been sitting alone in the cafeteria, which was unusual for him. His head was in his hands and he was bouncing his legs again - he was clearly very anxious.
He looked up at Reagan and offered a forced smile. "Hey, Ray."
"Your playlist."
He grimaced. "Did you like it?"
"What does it mean?"
He looked down, rubbing his neck with his hands. "I don't know."
"Neither do I," she responded.
"It's like... when I'm around you I feel like you're the only person in the world, I guess," he continued. "You make things feel like they're going to be okay, no matter what. You make me happy, Reagan."
Reagan bit her cheek in thought. She was concerned by where this was going, but she pulled up a chair and sat down anyway.
"I- please don't think I'm weird."
"I don't," she sighed. "But Brett, you know we're coworkers, right? That violates, like, five different HR policies."
"I know, but I'm not suggesting we do anything, I just... I needed to say it. I needed you to know how I feel, because I feel like a bad friend pretending these feelings don't exist."
Reagan offered him a weak smile. She hadn't really thought about him in this light before - romance wasn't really her thing. Sure, she'd been casually hooking up with a guy who worked at her rival company, but that was about as close as she ever got to... well, dating.
Brett looked down, suddenly very interested in the table's salt-and-pepper flecked pattern. Reagan realized she had been taking too long to respond.
"Sorry, didn't mean to make you feel weird, it's just... a lot to process, I guess," she stated after another moment of silence.
"No, you're right," he said. "I shouldn't have..."
"Don't," she responded. "Thank you for telling me. It means a lot. It's... nice to know there's someone out there who can tolerate me," she continued, taking one of Brett's hands into her own. "You're a great guy, I just need time to process."
Brett nodded. "Right. Um, yeah. You don't think I'm weird or a bad friend, do you?"
"I don't think you're a bad friend, anyway," she teased.
Brett shrugged. "That is fair."
Reagan sat at her computer, mind racing.
She'd had time to think about it, and she realized that Brett made her happy, too. She wasn't sure what her feelings were towards him - it had never crossed her mind - but she knew that being around Brett made her a better person. Platonic or romantic, she had a nagging feeling that there was something about Brett that connected the two. The notion of a "soulmate" was a laughable concept, but she wasn't sure how else to explain it.
Regardless of how she categorized her feelings, she knew it was time for her to return the favor.
I Am - Jorja Smith
Bad with Feelings - Boossing Lycs
But - Peter Broderick
You Make Me Happy - My Sun and Stars
Too And - Dining Background Jazz
I Am Glad - Lara George
We Are Friends - melody instinct
Brett didn't like most of the music in Reagan's mixtape, but he listened to it every day. To him, it was a reminder that the most important person in his live actually gave a shit about him, and that made the music tolerable. He'd even begun to memorize some of the lyrics.
Time passed, and not much happened between the two of them. Brett began to wonder if Reagan had been avoiding him intentionally, or if his low self-esteem was making him feel as though he was someone worth avoiding. Either way, the two of them hadn't spoke very much since the mixtape.
Today, Brett found himself in Reagan's laboratory, idly thumbing through the billions of sheets of paperwork that he knew he'd have to get finished by the end of the day. One thing that he hadn't been prepared for in the corporate world was the sheer amount of paperwork - when he worked as a lobbyist, most of that was handled by his team. This was the first job in his life where he actually had to file it himself. Reagan had been sitting at her desk, working hard on some no doubt important project on her computer.
"Finally," Reagan mumbled. She turned around in her desk chair and offered Brett a second flash drive.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Just listen to it," Reagan insisted, and he did.
"Now?"
"Right now."
He plugged the device into Reagan's office computer and loaded the file up.
You And Me - Lifehouse
Karaoke Night - E-Dubble
at - DECO*27
The Usual Spot - Alex Dagner
Tonight at 8 - Mitchel Butel
Brett smiled widely. "It's a... date?"
"It's a date," Reagan confirmed, and Brett felt his heart skip a beat.