Chapter Text
Some days in Quackity’s life were doomed to be extra stressful, he knew that. As of late, their number has been on the rise. In a blink of an eye life became hectic, as if the shape of reality was slowly distorting into one hot mess. Routines were harder to follow, emotions tougher to take control of.
Time was mercilessly marching on, taking the dates in the calendar Quackity hung on his fridge with him. Control that he thought he had over his life was slowly slipping out of his grasp. His bigger picture disappeared, getting replaced with a vision of getting to the next day.
That is exactly why as soon as his alarm rang, a bile of something acidic rose in his throat. This day was meant to be a turning point. It was also very likely to be a complete disaster.
His reasoning for drawing such conclusions were the three hours of sleep that he managed to catch along with it being the first day of his new job.
To be employed or unemployed was an illusion of free choice. Both lead to some kind of suffering. Quackity preferred getting paid though, so in the last two weeks he had applied for over two hundred positions.
It was a miracle he actually got an interview that sounded like it could lead to a long term position. In no way was he qualified to be a personal assistant, but he would make it work. The job description wasn’t anything special, so Quackity assumed he would adapt like he always did. More importantly, a callback from HR in the current state of the economy could not be ignored under any circumstances.
To state it more simply, he was desperate.
He tumbled out of the bed, blindly searching for his phone to turn the alarm off. After a bit more fumbling than usual, Quackity managed to silence the insistent ringing and promptly give himself a heart attack. He had less than fifteen minutes to get out of his flat and run for the bus.
After a hurried breakfast consisting of cereal with no milk, Quackity started a haphazard search for something presentable to wear.
He combed through the humble pile of clothes on his deskchair, hoping to find a shirt that did not require ironing. Sadly, every single one seemed to be residing in his laundry bin. In the end, Quackity settled for the least crumpled sweater he owned. He would use the washing-machine after work today, he promised himself.
Having dressed up and brushed his teeth, he left the apartment and headed for the bus, skipping every other step of stairs. With no car at his disposal and no metro line reaching his district, it was the only choice he had.
The ride was as uncomfortable as always.
It united every passenger in its misery, which Alex too, had to experience. His flat was located right on the edge of suburbs, where rent was still relatively cheap, which was its only redeeming quality. That being said, he would never get used to the crowded morning rush.
He got to the address of his new job in an hour. He already knew that in less than a week the commute would take the light away from his eyes.
On second thought, that spark vacated him three years ago when he decided to move to the city.
He looked at the building again. At a first glance it was a typical skyscraper that only a big corporation could afford renting, let alone building. The stark difference that made it stand out though, was the green colour of the endless rows of windowpanes that stretched to the sky. A bit eccentric, but whatever, Quackity thought.
He directed his gaze at the front door. It was unassuming enough. He could do this. He would not fuck it up. It was no big deal, only a stable employment with decent wage and paid holidays.
Okay, so it was a big deal.
His gaze drifted to the left. A coffee shop graced his sight.
With no hesitation, he turned his step towards it. He deserved something to lessen the stress of his first day, he decided. A sweet little treat to lift his spirits and thus have a less of a horrible time was the only logical choice.
Quackity entered the shop, noticing that there was barely a line at the register. He quickly checked the time. He had twenty minutes before his set appointment, so enough to order and enjoy himself before the horrors of employment became reality.
He stepped to the counter, happily noticing the variety of cookies, cakes and muffins he could choose from. He decided not to look at the prices for his own peace of mind. Hopefully, as a well-paid employee he would visit more often anyway.
The person before him had just finished paying, so he moved towards the barista, shooting him a smile.
"Hi, could I get a brownie? The one with raspberries."
"Oh I am incredibly sorry, but the gentleman before you just paid for it. I was about to fetch it for him." The barista smiled apologetically.
Quackity sulked. If he was about to spend a whooping amount of half of the hourly minimum wage, he would spend it on a cake he wanted, and not some poor muffin substitute.
He turned his face to the brownie snatcher. He seemed unbothered, waiting for his order while looking at his phone.
The man was dressed as if he was about to go to a Playboy Carti concert, maybe a tad more formal. Still, it was quite out of place for the business district of the city. He was wearing platform shoes, for god’s sake! This, the silver chains adorning his black pants as well as his jacket and an even more ridiculous necklace made him stand out, just like the building of Quackity’s future office.
The outfit itself was questionable, but even more baffling were the greyish dreadlocks that obscured a part of his pale face. All in all, he radiated an aura of a man entirely indifferent to the world around him.
Making him even pay attention to something else than his phone would be a challenge, but Quackity had to try.
"Excuse me" he started, summoning his best charming smile "did you by any chance just buy the last raspberry brownie that this fine establishment had to offer?"
He was not prepared for the piercing stare directed his way.
The guy's eyes were as uncanny as his whole person. Icy and almost unnaturally blue, they were now demanding the reason for disturbing his peace.
"And what if I did?" He asked a bit too nonchalantly for Quackity's liking.
"I wondered if I could buy it back from you? Or I could get you something else in exchange?"
The stranger's eyebrows shot up, as if in a bit of disbelief to what he was hearing.
Alex took it as his cue to continue.
"Or we could maybe share it if you want?"
"You could also just order literally anything else."
"Okay but I really wanted to taste it, you know? It means so much to me to get this specific brownie." He resorted to pleading.
"How about a no." Deadpanned the stranger.
"Oh okay, so you hate me, random stranger, and want to make my life a living hell. I see how it is."
"Well that's very dramatic of you. Also, I couldn't care less." As the man clad in black turned his head to the barista, his jewelry clinked together. Apparently, his presence had to be announced not only by his unsettling aura, but also the ridiculous outfit, thought Quackity. "So Jeremy, could you please get me the brownie so I can leave faster?"
The barista, apparently named Jeremy, looked a bit conflicted, but handed him the paper bag with the dessert.
Alex narrowed his eyes. "You traitor..."
He heard a snort coming from the Brownie Thief himself.
"You have the audacity to call him a traitor? Over a brownie? He is just doing his job, giving me a product I paid for. I honestly have no idea why you thought this whole thing would work at all."
"Well maybe I hoped I would meet a person without a stick up their ass today." He glared at the man now taking a bite out of the sweet treat that was meant to cheer him up. "But apparently, no such luck."
"Huh. How sad. Guess you'll have to manage" was all the man said before leaving the store altogether, taking the brownie and the horrible attitude with him.
Quackity huffed and turned to Jeremy.
He ended up ordering three chocolate cookies in compensation for the terrible encounter that he had. Jeremy even gave him a discount and their stamp card, seeing how devastated Alex was.
The barista was a good guy, he could tell. It was the blue eyed motherfucker that was the problem. He hoped he would never have to see him again.
After finishing one of the cookies, knowing that the remaining two would probably become his lunch, he headed towards the skyscraper. It was literally twenty meters away, so he had very little time to mentally prepare himself for the next eight hours of his life.
The revolving door which he entered stopped for a few seconds when he was inside them and gave him a small heart attack. Only after reassuring himself that he would not be trapped in them forever did he take note of the interior of the building.
The main lobby was very minimalistic. Nothing covered the white, shiny walls. The space was mostly empty too, the exception being the reception section on the far end of the hall. To its left stood metallic gates with key card scanners, leading to an equally eerie white corridor. On the wall facing the entrance hung a sign spelling the name of the company.
CNE it said. Quackity wasn't even sure what the acronym stood for. Before he could feel bad about it, an amicable looking secretary noticed his presence.
"Hello, what can I do for you?"
The man sitting behind a big white desk smiled at him with warmth. He had dark blonde hair and glasses that softened his blue eyes.
"Hi, I'm here from a job listing. Alexis Quackity, I applied for the PA position."
"Ah yes, you start today." His smile widened. "First things first. My name is Graf and I manage the front desk sometimes, usually when I am in need of a break.” He chuckled. “Primarily though, I am the head of administration of our company. Now, could you provide me with some form of an ID?”
"Sure, nice to meet you." Smiled Alex, feeling a bit out of his depth, handing the man his driver’s license, which was soon returned to him.
“Likewise. Now, if you would please give me a second." Graf rummaged through one of the desk’s drawers, fishing out a key card along with a stack of neatly arranged papers. Then, he picked up what Quackity assumed to be an intercom and spoke a few words in a language that surely wasn’t English.
As if out of thin air, materialized a burly guy in a suit. His sudden appearance almost made Alex jump. Thankfully, Graf was too busy speaking to the imposing man, who must have been some sort of a security guard, to notice his distress.
This place had their own security then and judging by the looks, quite good one at that. Quackity didn't know whether to feel safe or threatened.
While he pondered life choices that led him to this exact moment, another person arrived at the desk. It was a young woman with short brown hair and a strong lipstick.
The blonde man immediately turned his attention to her.
“Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. Do you think you could cover the reception for me for like half an hour? We have a new hire I need to take care of.”
“Sure thing.”
“Perfect.” The man smiled. “I promise to return you back to HR as soon as I can.”
“There’s no need to rush.” She chuckled. “If anything happens I’ll call. And,” she addressed Quackity with a smile “I hope we’ll have an opportunity to meet in the future.”
“Oh, you will.” Graf assured her. “He’s the new PA.”
At that the woman stopped in her motions, turning to Alex once more, this time with an impressed look on her face. Similarly, the security guard suddenly directed his attention towards him, now scanning his figure.
“Well then, best of luck! You’ll need it,” she smiled “I didn’t think there were souls brave or competent enough to take up this challenge.”
Quackity looked at her confused. Last time he checked, he applied for a PA position and not a taskmaster episode.
As he was about to ask Graf what was that about, the man stepped towards the security gates. He waved to the pair standing by the desk goodbye and motioned for Alex to follow him further into the building.
"You are going to enter through a guest security pass this once, but worry not, we will get a card made for you by the end of today.” Quackity was handed an unassuming plastic card labeled Visitor.
“Just please don’t lose it, okay?” Graf turned to him with a serious look on his face. “Security is one of our main priorities here.”
All Alex could do was nod. Privately, he started to wonder what kind of a company CNE really was. The building and interior looked uncanny enough and now the excessive safety measures did not help their case either.
Were they secretly dealing weapons? Did the government sell them confidential data? From the research Quackity did during his bus ride to the place, it seemed unlikely. Officially, CNE was delivering solutions based on renewable energy sources. This, however, could mean literally anything in corpo speak.
With every new thought Alex was more and more convinced that he did not know what he had gotten himself into. Hopefully, the pay was worth the hypothetical ethical shortcomings.
After successfully passing through the gates, they took a turn that led them to an elevator hall.
"So what made you apply for a job here?" Graf decided to break the silence.
Quackity knew a trick question when he heard one. Too bad he had no good answer for it.
"Mostly the pay." He chose honesty as his policy. Then, because apparently he was his own greatest enemy, he added, "I was kind of surprised you guys called back so soon. I assumed you would take more time to sort through the candidates."
"Oh, so you don't know?" Graf's smile faltered for a second.
"What am I supposed to know?" Asked alarmed Alex, remembering the previous interaction in the lobby.
"That would make sense" Graf murmured to himself "Well, let's say the position is not your stereotypical PA work. Our CEO is a bit of an eccentric figure. He has quite a reputation in our circles and so, we need someone who can handle more than just scheduling."
"Like in a good or bad way?" Alex inquired with a breathy laugh.
In the back of his mind a suspicion began to rise. Apparently, the job listing forgot to mention CEO whisperer as one of the requirements. At this point, Quackity was ready to write the whole day as an out of body experience.
"I am going to let you see for yourself. You are a law student, aren’t you?" That question caught him a bit off guard.
“Yeah, third year.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Well if that didn’t sound cryptic, Alex didn’t know what did.
Graf led him to one of the elevators, its doors sliding open conveniently as they approached. Once inside, Quackity assumed he would press the number corresponding to the highest floor. Instead, the man chose a level with a suspiciously low negative number assigned to it.
Alex didn’t imagine there to be offices so far below the ground. Wait, why were they going down?
Seeing the surprise on the future PA's face, Graf looked at him apologetically. "You see, sometimes your work here will be conducted under specific conditions, one of them is occasional lack of sunlight for several hours during the day. Don't worry though, you'll get used to it.”
Great, another argument for this whole experience being a fever dream, Quackity mused. He was afraid to ask what the other conditions might entail
Unaware of Alex’s inner torment, Graf started to explain how he would have to manage the CEO's appointments, redirect calls and remind him of company wide events. He was also promised a proper onboarding as well as additional training courses bestowed upon him by HR. So far, it all seemed basic enough, if you didn’t count the part where he was supposed to perform his duties god knows how deep underground. Would the calls even come through?
More importantly, Graf spoke much of his duties, but little of the man all of those duties would concern. All Quackity could gather was that his future boss maintained unending office hours. From what Graf said, he was known for staying up all night and working through the following day.
That made Alex sigh deep inside. A workaholic, then, and judging by the general feel of things so far, also a control freak. He hoped his predictions were incorrect, but then again, maybe he should prepare for the worst just in case.
He reminded himself of the recent rent increase announced by his landlord via a half-hearted text message.
Long nights couldn't be that bad, could they? It was not like he was a stranger to the experience. Merely a week ago he was studying for the finals until dawn broke. He just didn’t expect the lifestyle to catch up to him so quickly again.
"Oh, and one more thing. I need you to sign this." Graf produced a pen and a clipboard out of thin air. On it sat a document that, after a quick skim, Quackity could tell was an NDA. “Please read it carefully beforehand.”
Splendid. Now, in the worst case scenario, he had a lawsuit to look forward to.
Alex took the clipboard in his hands and went through the fine print. Most of the clauses were typical for a confidentiality agreement, prohibiting him from sharing any data or information he handled at work. Interestingly though, the term of confidentiality was not stated. Apparently, he would have to take CNE’s secrets to his grave.
He had no other option but to sign the paper, so he did just that and handed it back to Graf. The man tucked the NDA away just as the elevator doors opened.
A long, white corridor similar to the one in the main hall welcomed them both. It led to an open space with its sections divided by semi-transparent glass walls, where a few people seemed to be focused on their work. All in all it looked like an office, but it seemed devoid of something.
Quackity realized that no one was speaking or making calls. No one interacted with each other either. The space was strangely silent, almost liminal. If he didn’t see people at their desks, he would have assumed that the room was completely empty.
Graf stepped forward, greeting every colleague he passed on his way. Only then did the atmosphere lighten, as people returned the gesture, their eyes darting to Alex tailing behind the blond man with a newfound curiosity.
“This,” he gestured to Quackity, “is our new PA.”
The reaction to his words was immediate. The looks of curiosity directed at Alex changed to those of pity and compassion. That scared him more than anything else so far. Nevertheless, he too, got their greetings.
After the pleasantries ended, Graf directed his steps toward the far end of the room where black doors stood out in stark contrast to the ever-present white. Before he got the chance to knock, they clicked and parted slightly.
Graf sighed and opened the door a bit wider, gesturing for Quackity to follow his lead as he entered what was supposedly his new boss's office.
Any strange interior design choices implemented in the room faded from Alex’s mind the moment he caught sight of the tall man standing before them. His gaze landed on the two newcomers.
Piercing blue eyes met Quackity's own once more. A flash of recognition passed through them like a bullet.
Alex froze in panic, trying to gather his thoughts and map out an escape plan. Instead, his mind supplied him with a clear, ABORT message repeating itself every second like a broken record.
A small smile appeared on the pale face framed by greyish dreads.
At the same time, Quackity came to a simple, yet terrifying conclusion. He was utterly and hopelessly fucked.