[Day 1]
Lance stared at the heavy, distressed wood and took a very long breath.
Let’s get this fucking over with. The audience awaits, he thought, straightening his black leather jacket and pushing open the double doors of the Rusty Nail gastropub. It’s showtime.
He waded through the lively chatter, the smell of stale beer and fried food, and the industrial-chic decor with his trademark confident smirk firmly in place. His eyes scanned the room, quickly spotting Mike Thompson waving him over with a grin.
The one authentic guy in this sea of pretenders and the only man I would consider an ally. The thought morphed Lance’s smirk into a genuine smile.
“Lance, my man!” Mike called out, his t-shirt proclaiming ‘The cake is a lie’. Ah, the good old days, Lance mused, remembering late night gaming sessions with his best friend. “Ready to celebrate another win for the team?”
“Absolutely!” he replied, his smile widening. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to toast to our success with my favorite colleagues.”
Mike nudged his elbow. “That’s the spirit! Let’s grab a drink and meet the others.”
Lance made his way to the bar, dodging drunken coworkers and narrowly avoiding a collision with a tray of nachos.
“So, what’s your poison tonight, Mike? First round’s on me.”
Mike gave Lance a funny look. “You realize the company’s picking up the tab tonight, right?”
Lance smirked. “Of course.”
“Asshole,” Mike chuckled, shaking his head. “A Guinness sounds perfect right about now. Nothing like a creamy pint to kick off the celebrations!”
Lance nodded, signaling the bartender. “Two Guinnesses, please.”
“Well, you’ve got to admit, this is a pretty sweet victory. The optimization algorithms you came up with? Pure genius, dude. And thanks to that we beat Aperion’s release cycle.”
Lance shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with the praise. “It’s just part of the job. Besides, I couldn’t have done it without the rest of the team.”
“Always so modest,” Mike said, grabbing his beer from the bar counter. “Why would they schedule a company happy hour on a fucking Monday?”
“Tons of reasons. Happy hour is ultra cheap on Monday, and people have to work the next day so they won’t drink as much. Management saves a lot of money.”
“Figures…”
“Speaking of, have you seen Alex around?” Lance asked.
Mike shook his head. “Nah, he’s not coming. Got stuck in a late meeting and went straight home. Shame, really. He’s missing out on free booze and questionable decisions.”
“Yeah, that’s too bad. Well, his loss, I suppose.”
As he took his first sip, the bitter liquid slid down smoothly. Mike was right, not a bad way to unwind after kicking Aperion’s ass this quarter.
“You ever wonder if we’re stuck in a loop here?” Lance asked. “Same job, same people, same problems… same happy hours.”
“Shit—only one sip and you’re getting philosophical on me?” Mike chuckled. “I guess I get it. Sometimes I think about what it would take to completely shake things up, you know? Make life... I don’t know, more.”
“Sorry, just thinking out loud.”
“Grab your beer and let’s join the team.” Mike tilted his glass towards a cluster of programmers huddled around high-top tables, their faces alternating between the warm glow of laughter and the blue light of their phones as they shared memes and inside jokes.
Time to mingle with the troops.
As he moved towards them, his eyes locked onto Dave O’Connor, the Sales Manager. Dave looked sharp as always in a well-tailored suit, but what caught Lance’s attention was the awkward-looking tie featuring characters from The Legend of Zelda. Link and Ganondorf, engaged in eternal battle. How fitting for the cutthroat world of sales.
“Dave, brother!” Lance said, closing the distance between them. “You know, if we put half as much effort into work as we do into these happy hours, we’d be running the place by now.” He gave Dave a playful pat on the back, his trademark smirk never wavering.
Dave laughed heartily while his whiskey neat sloshed dangerously close to the rim of his glass. “Exactly, Lance! But let’s not forget, work hard, play harder.” He took a sip, savoring the smooth burn. “It’s a shame we have to drag our asses to work tomorrow. Speaking of… have you seen the new logo I’m working on?”
Of course, the logo. Dave’s pet project. Lance raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. “Can’t say I have. But knowing you, it’s bound to be a masterpiece.”
Dave’s face lit up, his free hand gesturing animatedly. “Picture this: a sleek, modern design that captures the essence of our cutting-edge technology. It’s going to revolutionize our brand image.”
Another day, another corporate rebranding. How thrilling, Lance didn’t say out loud. Instead, he nodded along, his mind already drifting to the next conversation.
As Dave continued to wax poetic about his logo, Lance’s gaze wandered the room, seeking out his next target. Might as well make the rounds while I’m here. Every connection counts.
He excused himself from Dave’s monologue with a polite smile and a promise to catch up later. Let’s see who’s next?
Just as he thought that, a flash of color in the crowd caught his attention—Emily Chen, the eccentric Marketing Specialist, in her signature polka dot dress and neon sneakers. Bingo! Now there’s a woman who knows how to make an impression.
Lance approached, admiring her asymmetrical black hair, now adorned with a striking blue streak. Risky, but she pulls it off with style, he thought, his lips curling into an amused smile.
“Emily, love the new hair!” Lance said, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Blue really brings out your creativity.”
Emily turned, her cat-eye glasses with unique frames catching the light. A grin spread across her face the moment she recognized him. “Lance, you charmer! I figured it was time for a change. New quarter, new me, right?”
Lance chuckled, taking a sip of his Guinness. “Absolutely. And what better way to celebrate than with a company-mandated happy hour?” He leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m convinced the only reason they have these things is to make us forget how much we work. And it’s working,” he added with a wink.
Emily laughed, the sound bright and infectious. She raised her glass, a color-changing ‘Unicorn Tears’ martini with edible glitter, in a mock toast. “To corporate-sponsored amnesia!”
“Amen!” Lance clinked his pint against her martini, the contrast between their drinks as stark as their personalities. A Guinness and a Unicorn Tears martini. If that doesn’t sum us up, I don’t know what does.
As they sipped their drinks, Emily practically vibrated with restrained energy. “Before you leave, please let me tell you about the guerrilla marketing campaign I’m planning. It’s going to blow your mind!”
Here we go, Lance thought, bracing himself for another one of his colleague’s outlandish ideas. “Do tell,” he encouraged, his curiosity piqued despite himself.
Emily drew nearer. “I’m thinking of an interactive augmented reality experience scattered throughout the city. People will stumble upon them by chance, and when they do, they’ll be immersed in a world of our creation.”
“Ambitious. But how do you plan to pull it off?”
“That’s the best part,” Emily grinned, her excitement overflowing. “We’ll partner with local artists and tech startups to create the installations. It’ll be a collaborative effort, showcasing our commitment to innovation and community.”
Clever, Lance mused, nodding along. Leveraging local talent to boost Qualtech’s rep. This woman is always thinking outside the box.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Emily. It’s a bold move. But if anyone can make it happen, it’s you.”
Emily beamed, her cheeks flushed with pride and perhaps a bit of the Unicorn Tears martini. “Thanks, Lance. I knew you’d get it.”
“Just calling it like I see it. You’ve got a knack for turning the unconventional into the unforgettable.”
Emily continued listing the details of her vision while Lance continued nodding. She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. As he opened his mouth to respond, Mike appeared at his side with two fresh pints of Guinness in hand.
“Thought you could use a refill,” Mike said, handing Lance a glass. “And I wanted to introduce you to our newest team member.”
Lance turned, his eyes landing on a striking blonde woman he’d never seen before. Hello, what have we here?
“Lance, meet Valentina Contreras Sabatini,” Mike explained, gesturing to the woman. “She’ll be starting tomorrow as a Senior Software Engineer.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Valentina. A name as beautiful as the woman herself, Lance thought, taking in her piercing blue eyes and generous curves.
“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Lance Lawthorn, resident genius and office jester, at your service,” he introduced himself with a dramatic bow, then extended his hand and his practiced smile.
The newcomer shook his hand, her eyes meeting his. “Valentina. Nice to meet you, Lance,” she replied, her voice calm and assured, with a thick Spanish accent that made Lance forget what he was about to say.
An accent. Love it. Lance straightened. “Welcome to the team,” he said. “I take it you’re not from around here?”
Valentina smiled. “That obvious, huh? Yes, I just moved from Buenos Aires. Got hired for the strategic analysis division.”
“Interesting? And here I thought I had my finger on all the important things happening in our office.”
Valentina’s chin tilted upward a fraction, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Perhaps you don’t know as much as you think you do.”
He let out a wry chuckle. “Ouch. You certainly don’t pull your punches. But I’ll have you know, I’m a quick study. Actually, you know what? Stick with me, and I’ll have you navigating the treacherous waters of Qualtech in no time.”
“I think I can manage just fine on my own. But I’ll keep your offer in mind, just in case, che.” Valentina replied.
Confident and self-assured. I like her already. Lance’s smirk widened. “Suit yourself. But just remember, it takes a certain kind of person to thrive in this madhouse.”
Valentina met his gaze head-on, unflinching. “And what kind of person is that, exactly?”
“Someone with a sharp mind, a quick wit, and a healthy dose of skepticism. Sound familiar?”
“You just described every person I’ve met so far who hasn’t been institutionalized yet. No offense, Mike.”
Mike scratched the back of his neck awkwardly while Emily’s smile became a little too wide and tight.
Lance, however, laughed. “Fair point. But how many of them can keep up with me in a battle of wits?”
Valentina’s eyes shone with amusement. “Is that a challenge?”
“More like an invitation. Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
“So, the great Lance fancies himself a master wordsmith? We’ll see about that,” Valentina said. “From what I’ve seen so far, the corporate lingo around here could drain the life from even the most vibrant conversationalist.”
Lance clutched his chest in mock offense. “Burns like a Phoenix Burn smoothie! But I relish a challenge.” He grinned. “How about we make things interesting? Loser has to try one of those dreadful healthy drinks from the cafeteria - Wait until you see them.”
“You’re on.” Valentina’s eyes danced with mischief. “But I should warn you, I happen to be fluent in corporate jargon. Spent a summer internship swimming in all that impenetrable MBA-speak.”
“Is that so? Well then, en garde, my dear...” Lance raised his beer. “Remember, sometimes the most interesting things happen when you step out of your comfort zone.”
“Is that so? Thought you said you were the office jester, not the philosopher.”
“Hey! even jesters have their moments of wisdom. But seriously, in a place like this, you never know when everything might change in an instant.”
“Fair enough,” Valentina giggled. “So, Lance, how’s your evening been so far? I hear Qualtech achieved something major. Have the celebrations been enjoyable?”
“Oh, the usual corporate bonding - stale pretzels, and bragging about our alleged achievements. Beer’s good though. But meeting you has certainly livened things up,” he replied with a smirk. “How about you? Was the trip from Argentina a brutal one?”
“Ah, it was long but not too bad, thanks. I came with my sister, actually. But she was pretty wiped out from the trip, so she stayed at the hotel to rest—”
“Wait, wait. You flew here all the way from Buenos Aires today? And came to this party?”
“Yeah, I suppose I’m still running on adrenaline from the move,” Valentina said with a snort of laughter. “I wasn’t sure about coming, but I thought it would be nice to get to know some of the people I’d be working with. So yes, talk about hitting the ground running!”
“Wow, that’s dedication. I guess that’s why we try to roll out the red carpet for talent such as yourself. It’s not every day we get a hotshot engineer joining our ranks.”
“You flatter me, Lance…”
As their banter flowed as easily as the Guinness from the tap, Lance barely noticed when Mike and Emily drifted away, their voices fading into the background, just as he paid no attention to the Rusty Nail’s crowd thinning around them.
Finally, someone genuine. She’s not just a pretty face. This woman has substance, brilliance; she’s magnetic.
“Enough about me.” As if sensing his thoughts, Valentina leaned in, her voice low and intimate. “So, what drives the great Lance? What makes you tick?”
The question caught him off guard, and he paused, his glass halfway to his lips. What does drive me? He’d never actually stopped to consider it before. His life had always been a series of goals to achieve, ladders to climb, and competitors to outmaneuver.
He took a sip of his Guinness, buying himself time to formulate a response. “I guess I’ve always been driven by success,” Lance said. “I wanted to have a lot of money, so I studied something challenging, strategized good career paths, and now we’re here.”
“You know… you don’t have to wear a mask with me.”
“Mask? I think I know what you mean. Everyone around here wears them, and… you’re right, I’m no exception. It’s who I needed to be to reach this ‘success.’”
“And have you? Succeeded, I mean.”
Lance opened his mouth to respond, the automatic “Of course” poised on the tip of his tongue. But something stopped him. If it was the woman or the alcohol he wasn’t sure—it was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, a whisper of doubt that had been growing louder with each passing day.
“Well… to be honest,” Lance admitted, suddenly feeling exposed under Valentina’s knowing gaze. “I work remotely most of the time, the job itself is pretty low-stress for me. I’ve reached a point where the money’s comfortable enough that I don’t feel any real drive to chase promotions or deal with more corporate bureaucracy.” He waved a hand dismissively. “So at some point, I started coasting. Just playing the role, hitting my marks, but not truly challenging myself or striving for anything more. And it’s boring, and tiring, but I can’t seem to stop...um...” His fingers formed imaginary quotation marks. “...wearing this ‘mask’.”
Valentina smiled, but there was no judgment in it. “Thank you for being honest, Lance Lawthorn.” His last name came out heavily accented, the consonants tripping on her tongue. “Sometimes, we get so caught up in the game that we forget why we started playing in the first place,” she mused, her words hitting uncomfortably close to home.
He nodded, his mind racing. She’s right. When did I stop seeking excitement?
He looked around the nearly empty bar, the remnants of the happy hour strewn across tables and floors. The scene felt like a metaphor for his life—a mess of empty glasses and discarded conversations, with nothing of substance to show for it.
Is this all there is? Is this what I’ve been working towards all these years?
The thought left a sour taste in his mouth, and he set his glass down with a heavy thud. “You know, I’ve never really stopped to think about it before,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “But maybe it’s time I did.”
Valentina reached out, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “It’s never too late to start. The first step is admitting that you want something more.”
Lance met her gaze, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. Or probably it was more the Guinness than anything else. Something more, he repeated in his mind.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s time to reevaluate what I want out of life.
He smiled, a genuine one this time, and raised his glass in a toast. “To new beginnings,” he said, ringing with determination.
Valentina clinked her glass against his, her smile matching his own. “To new beginnings,” she echoed, and together, they drank to the future, whatever it might hold.
At that moment, the bar’s lights flickered, signaling the end of the night. “Well, would you look at that. Quitting time already.”
“Don’t tell me the great wordsmith is throwing in the towel now? I was just getting warmed up.”
“Hardly. But a man needs to know when to fight another day. You were a worthy opponent.” Lance drained the rest of his Guinness. “Well, I suppose this is where we part ways,” Lance said, disappointed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a meaningful exchange with someone, especially a colleague.
Valentina smiled, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. “It’s been a pleasure, Lance. Thank you for the company.”
They walked towards the exit together, the cool night air greeting them as they stepped through the wooden doors. Lance turned to Valentina, a sudden concern crossing his features.
“Will you be alright getting to your hotel? I can call you a cab if you need one.”
Valentina smiled, a slight flush on her cheeks. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m a bit tipsy, but it’ll help me relax after the long flight.” She pointed down the street. “Besides, my hotel’s just at the end of the block. I think I can manage.”
“Alright, if you’re sure. It’s been quite a night, hasn’t it?”
Valentina’s smile turned into a playful smirk. “Indeed it has. Though I must say, for someone who’s had a few drinks, you’ve held up pretty well. It’s a well-known fact that you gringos can’t keep up with us Latinos when it comes to drinking.”
Lance stared at her for a moment, his alcohol-addled brain struggling to process her words. Then, he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the empty street. “Is that so?” he managed between chuckles. “Well, I’d say we’ve both acquitted ourselves admirably tonight. Though I might need a rematch someday to defend the honor of gringos everywhere.”
“Fair enough.” Valentina giggled. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Will you make it home alright?”
“Pfft, I’ll be fine. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone,” Lance said. “Oh, but Valentina, welcome to Qualtech.” He took a step back, giving her a theatrical bow.
With a wink and a nod, she turned and started down the street, her hips rocking from side to side with an effortless, natural sway as she walked with confident strides.
Was I just buzzed, or did we absolutely have a moment back there? He shrugged. Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
The walk home was a blur, thoughts jumbled from the long day and the even longer night, and the lingering effects of the Guinness, and replaying the evening’s conversation on a loop. Had he really opened up to a near stranger? The cold breeze sure didn’t help clear his head, either. But one thing she said stuck.
‘Sometimes, we get so caught up in the game that we forget why we started playing in the first place.’
It was a good mantra. He replayed it in his mind as he stumbled into his apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the couch.
In the kitchen, he gulped down a glass of water, then set about preparing a cup of coffee with cream and sugar—The perfect nightcap.
With his steaming mug in hand, Lance made his way to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. He turned on the TV, illuminating the room in flickering blue light, but he barely registered the images on the screen. Instead, he stared into his coffee, lost in contemplation.
Valentina’s insight had struck a chord, forcing him to finally do something about what he’s known all along—that his life may be lacking the depth and meaning he craved.
What could I do instead? I don’t want to lose my comfortable life. But I can’t keep going on like this.
He sighed, downing the coffee in one gulp. The warmth spread through his chest, but it did little to ease the unease in his mind.
But what kind of change, exactly? And how would he even begin to go about it? The idea of upending his carefully constructed life was both thrilling and terrifying.
He laid down on the couch. His eyelids grew heavy. Sleep began to take hold.
A new beginning, he thought. Whatever that might mea…
***
Lance jolted awake as a sudden, sharp sensation hit his body. It felt both hot and cold at the same time. It was as if a million honey bees had landed on him, their tiny feet making contact with every inch of his skin, but instead of stinging, they vanished instantly.
For less than a split second, a faint, high-pitched hum seemed to move from one ear to the other, while remaining on the edge of hearing. At the same time, he could have sworn the room was bathed in an orange glow.
His heart raced and adrenaline pumped through his veins. He sat up fast, looking around in a panic, but just as quickly as it had come, the sensation dissipated. The hum faded, and the room returned to its normal, shadowy state. Lance blinked, disoriented. What the hell was that? he thought.
His breathing slowed and his eyelids grew heavy once more.
He looked at his phone.
[11:59 PM]
I didn’t drink that much, did I? - Probably just a weird dream.
He laid his head back down on the couch cushion. Within seconds, he drifted off to sleep.