~~~
...H...H...H...
What is it that makes certain tasks monetizable?
Was that a real word? Monetizable? Eh, Tim supposed it didn’t really matter. Words were there to get someone’s point across. If a fake word worked better than a real one, it became real by default. That was how words were made.
Unless you were playing Scrabble.
Not that he was saying monetizable was a fake word. But still, it was thinking stuff. Food for thought! Or was that thought for food? It never made sense either way.
…H…H...H...
Anyway, he was getting off-topic.
Tim was no stranger to printing things or making copies. There was nothing special or remarkable about those tasks. Everyone learned to do them, usually for school-related stuff.
And yet, some people got paid for doing those things while others didn’t.
...I...I…I…
He was an intern. No matter what he did here, he wasn’t going to get paid. You could say he got paid in experience, but Tim preferred saying he didn’t get paid at all. It felt more honest. Whether it was here or in school, no one was going to pay him for printing things and making copies.
However, if you were an adult with a fancy degree, you totally got paid for doing things like that.
What made the difference? Did a college degree make you better at menial office tasks?
...I...I…I…
How about saving someone’s life? Suppose you pulled an old lady out of the way right before she was hit by a car. It was a good deed, but you weren’t going to get paid for it.
Unless she was a super nice old lady, which could happen. But that wasn’t the point.
The point was saving someone’s life wasn’t something you got paid for.
Unless you did.
...J...J...J...
The police got paid for the whole ‘upholding the law’ thing. Then there were Heroes. Chevalier would totally get some sort of bonus to his monthly salary if he saved an old lady from the traffic. Saving people could 100% be a career path.
It was monetizable.
In other words, depending on the circumstances, regular and even mundane actions became something you could make money from.
...J...J...J...
Ah, where was he going with this again… Oh, right!
Working wasn’t a big deal.
It had always seemed like a big imposing obstacle waiting at the end of his school years. The Final Frontier!
It was just alright.
Just like a video game has different versions of things you learned during the tutorial, most office work was just stuff you have already done dozens of times over the years. Once you got past the nerves, there was nothing difficult about it.
It was just… stuff. Work stuff.
Normal stuff.
...K...K...K...
Compared to Mr. Carpenter’s big essay assignments, working was easy. Now, if he had to write essays for a living, that would be some hard work.
Guaranteed to blow his mind anytime. Recommended at the price…
Wait. No. That was a song. He was getting sidetracked. He needed to focus on this stuff.
Right.
Yeah.
Focus.
…
Su-Su-Sussudio𝆕
I feel so good if I just say the word, Su-Su-Sussudio𝆕
I just say the word, oh, Su-Su-Su-Sussudio𝆕
I just say the word, oh, Su-Su-Sussudio𝆕
I’ll say the word, oh, S-Su-Su-Sussudio, oh, oh, oh𝆕
“Hi there,” came in a female voice as the door to the file storage room creaked open. Tim quickly whipped around and did his best to pretend he hadn’t been about to start dancing.
“Just checking to see how you were doing. Everything okay?”
“Just peachy,” Tim replied. “No problems here, Ms. Valerie.”
Valerie was Ms. Martel’s personal assistant and the one in charge of them. She was a pretty college graduate that most guys Tim’s age would have trouble talking to without getting all tongue-tied. Luckily for Tim, that did not apply to him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t tell she was attractive. He was just… picky.
According to his mom, it was something he got from her. It had been one of those few times she had talked to him about dad.
“Before I met him, I didn’t care much for…”
“Romance?”
“People.”
“Are you sure?” She asked with genuine concern as she took a look around the room. “I know it’s not the most engaging of tasks.”
“Positive, Ms. Valerie!”
She put her hands on her hips and mock-glared at him. “How many times must I tell you to call me Valerie? You’re making me feel old.”
“Sorry, Valerie!”
Her name felt awkward on his lips. It was easy to think of her as Valerie, but addressing an older person (not that she’d like to hear that) without adding a Mr, Ms, or Mrs to their name was all sorts of weird. It was kind of like discovering a new muscle.
Was that just him, or did other people have that problem too?
“But yeah, no problems here. I’m already on the Ks!”
“You’re that far already?” Valerie’s eyebrows rose. “Impressive.”
“Aw, it’s nothing.”
Yesterday, Valerie had shown him this room and asked him to put the files in order. Back then, the room had been all dark, dusty, and filled with binders. Tim had spent the better part of the day trying to find the light switch, then getting rid of all the dust bunnies. Things had become easier from there. It was just sorting things by last name. Anyone who knew the order of the alphabet could do it.
So yeah. It had been easy.
Tedious, but easy. His mind had been running around all day while he worked.
“Oh, it’s definitely something. You’ve no idea how much time you and Amanda are saving us.”
Tim scratched the back of his head. As he understood it, Amanda was scanning old papers, which was probably also tedious but sounded more important than what he was doing. The future was digital and all that.
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“Really?”
“You don’t feel like you are doing something important, huh?” Seeing Tim nod, Valerie said. “That’s because you aren’t.”
“But you just said-”
“It’s not important, but it still needs doing. If we keep putting it off for later, it is going to eventually bite us in—” Valerie frowned. “Cause us trouble. It is eventually going to cause us trouble. Small problems can become big ones. However, we all have our hands full with the day-to-day stuff. If one or two of us dedicated ourselves to this, the others would have to pick up our slack around the office. That’d mean more work for everyone.”
“But because Amanda and I are fresh hands, it’s fine if we take care of all the odd jobs that need doing and stuff? That’s how we help out?”
Valerie beamed at him. “Correct. You are learning!”
That didn’t really sound all that cool.
“You know, you could have just said bite us in the-”
“No!” She immediately cut him off, her eyes wide. “No, I can not, And neither can you.”
Tim stared at her. “I’m not five.”
“Neither is Ms. Martel, and she most definitely does not approve of crass language,” she warned him. “Think it all you want. Don’t say anything. Even when you’re alone. She’ll know. She always knows.”
Tim’s first instinct was to believe she was playing a joke on him or just exaggerating.
Then he remembered Ms. Martel’s cold eyes and shivered.
“Point taken.”
“Good.” She jabbed her thumb at the door. “Now get out of here.”
Tim mimicked her motion, pointing to the stack of binders instead. “But I still have stuff to do.”
“You also have mandated breaks. You don’t get to argue on this,” she gave him a knowing look. “You’re a minor, so it looks bad on us if you’re working without pause. Besides, it’s no good to be in a stuffy room like this.”
“I thought being in stuffy rooms is what people made money for?”
“Clever. You’re still not getting out of taking a break.”
Drat.
“Fine. Fine.” He scratched his cheek. “So what’s good in the cafeteria?”
~~~
It wasn’t that Tim loved to work or something like that. That wasn’t why he had been so reluctant to take a break. He just didn’t like to leave things unfinished, especially once he’d gotten into a rhythm.
Getting started again was super annoying.
On the bright side, Food!
He hadn’t realized it until he’d stopped organizing all those binders, but he had worked quite the appetite. While Valerie had recommended a nice Indian place, there had been way too many people waiting in line. Tim supposed that was a ringing endorsement in its own way, but he had no intentions of waiting that long.
So he had gone for the place with the least people.
He just needed to figure out where to sit. Yesterday, he’d managed to get a table for himself, but that had been a few hours earlier. It seemed everyone was here at this hour.
Nuts, he was going to have to share a table with a bunch of strangers, wasn’t he?
Ugh, it was just like high school. Tim looked around the sea of people, hoping to find an empty table. As he did, his eyes caught sight of a brown ponytail.
“Ammes!”
Amanda was in one of those small tables for two, and luckily, she didn’t have company. Tim waved as he quickly made his way to her.
“So glad I saw you,” he said, taking the free seat. “I had no idea where I was going to sit.”
“Yeah...so glad.”
She wasn’t. He wasn’t clueless enough to miss it. He even sympathized. Much like having someone suddenly sit next to you on a bus, it sucked suddenly having to share a table. However, the alternative was Tim having to sit next to some total strangers.
Tim might sympathize with Amanda, but not enough to put himself through that. No way. He hated eating with strangers.
“Yeah.” Tim popped a fry into his mouth. “You’d figure it wouldn’t feel like high school because this place is super fancy and all, but it really totally does.”
Amanda nodded slowly, almost as if she was doing it against her will. “That…” Her face twisted as soon as she saw what was on his tray. “What in the world are you eating?”
Tim blinked.
“Fries?”
He ate another one. Crispy and salty. Just the way he liked them.
Amanda glared at him.
“Not that!” She pointed down at his tray. “That!”
“Oh? This?” Tim smiled as he held one up and took a bite. “They’re frog legs? Cool, right?”
“Frog legs?” She whispered, aghast and maybe a little green as well. It was kind of funny since he was the one eating frog.
No wait, now she was pale instead.
“Can you believe they have those here?” He took another bite. “This place is the best.”
“I can’t believe anyone would actually order frog legs. That’s...” She shuddered. “I don’t think I want to look at you right now.”
“Oh, come on. It’s perfectly fine food. Tastes a bit like chicken, actually. Shame not many people are willing to try them out. The place that sold them had the smallest line.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
Tim rolled his eyes and pointed at her plate. “Well, of course, you’re saying that. You got the cheeseburger!”
“And what’s wrong with a cheeseburger?”
“Well…” Tim made a series of vague gestures with his hand. “The only way you could have ordered something plainer is if you had ordered a burger without the cheese. Or maybe a hot dog. I mean, look around.”
Tim waved at the large cafeteria.
“There’s Indian food here, you know? Apparently, it’s pretty good.” Had to be from how enthusiastically Valerie had recommended it and the stupidly long line of people waiting for their turn. “The place where I bought this? They sold gator nuggets! Gator nuggets!”
Not choosing them had been one of the hardest decisions of his life.
But hey, there was always tomorrow. Tomorrow was nice and reliable. It never betrayed you until it did, but it could only do it once, so it was fine.
“Just because weird options exist doesn’t mean I have to choose them,” Ammes fired back. “Burgers are eaten by millions every day. That’s how you know they’re good. You order them knowing you’ll get something familiar.”
“And if they’re bad?”
“Even if they end up being bad, they’ll be bad in a familiar way.”
“But where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Food is not an adventure.” She bit down on one of her fries with maybe a little too much force. “It’s food.”
“It can be both. You don’t want to be the sort of person who goes to Rome and ends up in Rocket’s, do you?”
“Rocket’s is a perfectly fine establishment!”
“Wait.” Tim blinked and took note of the rising blush on Amanda’s cheeks. “Have you actually done that?!”
He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice, and Amanda’s blush only grew darker for it.
“For real? I was just saying stuff.” Tim fought the urge to sigh. Why was travel wasted on the least-adventurous? “That’s such a waste.”
“Whatever.” Ammes took a vicious bite of her burger. “I will not be shamed for my choices in food. They are all perfectly safe choices. That’s why I pick them! I don’t need adventure from food.”
“Fine. Fine.” Tim raised his hands in surrender. “So, you’re coming on Saturday?”
Ammes blinked, seemingly taking a moment to figure out his question.
“Ah, for…. the videos. Yes, of course.”
“Cool. I can’t wait! Never thought I’d get the chance to see Exceeds fighting it out in a place like this!”
Tim was almost bouncing in his seat as he said it. Sure, CHEM had a bunch of videos on their website, but those were all short and skipped the cool bits. That said, it wasn’t like there were many alternatives. Finding videos online was pretty tough.
It wasn’t like people were always carrying cameras or something. They weren’t like phones, and while some phones could snap pictures nowadays, those tended to be super low quality.
“You really like them, don’t you?” Amanda asked. “Exceeds, I mean.”
“They can shoot lasers and all sorts of stuff. Of course, I do. Who wouldn’t like that?”
Ammes shrugged. “They’re still just people. I think they’re a bit overrated.”
Tim pointed at her with a fry. “You’re making it sound as if you have met Exceeds before.”
Ammes shuffled awkwardly. “Well, kind of?”
Tim’s jaw hit the table.
“No. Way.”
“Shh!” Ammes’ immediately shushed him. “Not so loud!” she hissed at him. “It’s not a big deal or anything.”
“No. It pretty much sounds like a huge deal. That’s the stuff I’d totally brag about if it happened to me. I’d do it incessantly until people got annoyed that I always tell that one story again and again, and I’d know it’s annoying, but I wouldn’t care because it’d be so cool.”
“That’s the most self-aware thing you have said, and it just raises so many questions.” Ammes shook her head and sighed. “But like I said, it’s not a big deal. My mom just happens to work with Exceeds. That’s all.”
“She works with CHEM?”
CHEM.
The Committee of Heroics and Exceed Management. The government agency whose job was to deal with the… administrative aspects of having people with superpowers among the general population. Of course, most people knew them as the branch of the government in charge of superheroes. Recruiting them. Training them. Organizing them. Paying them.
Plus, the publicity. Couldn’t forget that.
There were some Heroes who didn’t work with CHEM, but most did.
“No.” Ammes shook her head. “My mom’s a lawyer. She specializes in laws regarding Exceeds.”
Tim’s face scrunched into a frown.
“What? Like insurance or something?”
“That’s part of it,” Ammes said. “But also, well, imagine if you suddenly gained powers.”
“I have totally done that.”
And playacted it.
And drew a picture of what his hero suit would look like.
And may have perhaps indulged in a fantasy where he joined The Supreme and hooked up with Bradamante.
“Imagine if someone who’s not you suddenly gained powers,” Ammes said. “That person would be new to their abilities, so they wouldn’t be able to control them all that well, if at all. They could cause an accident. Maybe a car crash or something. How should the government treat them for that? Can they be held accountable for something they had no control over? Should they be held accountable for the nature of their birth? My mom helps out people who are in that sort of situation.”
“Oh.”
Tim chewed on that as he chewed on his frog leg.
“Your mom sounds kind of cool. Super cool even.”
“Yeah. She is.”
Amanda smiled as she said that.
It’d have been a pretty smile if it weren’t so damn sad.
~~~