A few weeks into the project, my apartment had quietly morphed into headquarters for the team. Everyone had settled into a rhythm—so much so that it wasn’t unusual to find someone lounging around, even if I wasn’t home. Ender, my ever-reliable robot assistant, had helped make it comfortable for the group to work here.

One afternoon, I was still in class when Theo messaged me:

Hanging with Ender while you’re nerding it up. He’s showing me Entangled.

I had to laugh at the image of Theo and Ender, my robot assistant, watching a cheesy vampire drama together. It was surreal how normal things had gotten, how easily everyone accepted Ender as part of our group.

When I finally got home, I found them right where I’d imagined—parked on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. Theo was fully engrossed in another episode of Entangled, while Ender, ever composed, delivered his usual deadpan commentary.

“Sarah’s decision-making continues to lack consistency,” Ender remarked, his voice carrying that dry, methodical tone that had become a running joke for us.

Theo nodded thoughtfully. “Right? But I’m telling you, Marshall’s the real deal. Dude’s got loyalty written all over him.”

“I would argue that loyalty should not override the importance of self-awareness and emotional intelligence,” Ender countered.

I tossed my bag onto a chair. “Have you guys seriously been doing this all day?”

Theo grinned, finally tearing his eyes from the screen. “Hey, it’s research. The emotional dynamics in this show are like a masterclass in dysfunction. Plus, Ender’s a pro at analyzing it.”

Ender inclined his head slightly. “I aim to provide insightful analysis.”

I shook my head, flopping onto the couch beside them. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with research.”

It was strange, but nice—how easy everything had become with the group, how naturally Ender fit into our dynamic. The apartment felt less like a workspace and more like a home base, where work and downtime blurred together. I liked that.

The following week, though, that cozy rhythm took a sharp turn.

We were midway through finalizing the coding for the bot’s sensor integration when my professor, Dr. Lindon, pulled me aside after class. Her no-nonsense tone softened just a fraction as she spoke.

“I have a new addition to your team,” she said. “Brighton Scott. He’s the only one in this class with significant experience in micro-interfacing tech—specifically with touch-sensitivity optimization. And since your group is focusing on medical robotics and physical sensitivity, I think his skills will be crucial.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I blinked, caught off guard. “A new team member? This late into the project?”

She nodded, her expression firm. “I know it’s unconventional, but I’ve spoken with his team and your group. Everyone understands that it’s in the project’s best interest. Brighton’s input will be invaluable.”

I sighed, realizing this wasn’t up for debate. “Okay, we’ll make it work.”

Later that day, I brought it up to the team during our regular work session at my place. Theo was sprawled out on the couch, legs up on the coffee table, as usual.

“Brighton Scott? That’s the guy who basically dominated the AI competition last semester, right?” Theo said, raising an eyebrow.

Gemma perked up. “Oh yeah, I remember. He’s really good with tech.”

Lain, sitting quietly in the corner, glanced up but didn’t say much, processing the information.

I leaned back, trying to keep the mood light even though my stomach was tight with uncertainty. “Yeah, so… he’ll be joining us soon. We’ll make it work, right?”

Theo stretched and shrugged. “Sure. More brains, more power.”

But as we kept working, I could feel the small shift in the air. No one said it outright, but having someone new come in this late in the project wasn’t ideal. We had our rhythm. Adding Brighton would change that, even if it was for the better.

A few days later, Brighton joined us for the first time at my apartment.

I remembered the first time I saw him on the first day of class—blonde hair, confident posture, looking like he could’ve walked straight out of a frat house. And when I’d officially met him earlier that week in the lab, that same confident air had thrown me off.

“Seren, this is Brighton Scott,” Dr. Lindon had introduced him, motioning toward him with a rare hint of approval.

I’d smiled politely, extending my hand. “Seren Wilkes. Nice to meet you.”

He’d shaken my hand with a firm, easy grip. “Heard a lot about you, Seren. You’re the one who sold that coding program a couple years back, right?”

I’d blinked, not expecting the directness. “Uh, yeah.”

He’d smiled, then turned to Dr. Lindon. “Looks like I’m in good company.”

There was something about the way he’d said it that set me on edge—he wasn’t rude, but there was a confidence there, maybe a little too much of it. Still, I couldn’t argue with the professor’s logic. Brighton knew micro-interfacing tech better than anyone. His skills could take us to the next level.

Now, as Brighton stood in my apartment for the first time, he took in the sight of Ender sitting casually on the couch with us. The usual banter filled the room, but Brighton seemed… perplexed.

“Wait, is he… just hanging out with us?” Brighton asked, staring at Ender.

I exchanged a glance with Theo, who was already smirking. “Yeah, Ender’s part of the team. He helps out where he can, but mostly he’s here for moral support and witty banter.”

Brighton raised an eyebrow. “Witty banter?”

Ender spoke up before I could respond. “Multitasking is one of my many talents. Sarcasm is another. Would you like a demonstration?”

Brighton blinked, clearly not prepared for Ender’s deadpan delivery. “He’s… sarcastic? How does a robot even—?”

Theo jumped in, still grinning. “Ender’s a legend, man. Don’t let the calm voice fool you—he’ll out-sass you in seconds.”

I chuckled. “He’s not exactly what you’d expect.”

Brighton shook his head, clearly intrigued but still unsure. “This is… definitely new.”

Ender, still sitting calmly, gave Brighton a measured glance, as if assessing him. Something subtle shifted in the air. I couldn’t tell if Ender approved of this new addition to our group or if, like the rest of us, he was reserving judgment.

For now, we were all figuring it out—how Brighton fit into the rhythm we’d built. It wasn’t clear yet, but one thing was certain: things were about to change.