The car came to a halt on the second level of the parking garage. A young man stepped out, slung a laptop bag over his shoulder, and slammed the door shut.

His whistles echoed softly off the concrete structure, breaking the noise of the evening rush outside as he walked away from the car. He stopped, spun around, and held his car keys like an armed gunman ready to strike. He aimed and shot the doors to the locked position. The horn sounded off to him, and he dropped his keys back into his pocket before making his way towards the elevator.

The thought of coffee seemed to already warm him away from the fall’s cool air. He left the smell of used oil and leaking gas from the parking garage with a pep in his step. That warm cup would taste extra good today. Hell, it tasted extra good everyday, as long as Rebecca made it.

He adjusted the bag on his arm, feeling the weight of his new promotion settling in. He could bear this weight for years, finally imagining all of the money to be made. He watched the trees sing and dance for him as the low wind swept through, the colors changing to scarlets and golds for him.

He gave friendly nods and smiles at people that passed by him, grinning from ear to ear as he made eye contact with everyone. He wanted to grab hold of the next person that walked by and shake them with his news, but he also wanted to stay out of jail. That was always preferred.

Seeing a small line gathered inside the coffee shop, he chose to sit at a small table outside. Life went on around him, and he kept his phone in his pocket for once, opting to enjoy the real world rather than test his score in Candy Crush.

He saw a girl across the street talking on her phone. She was looking at him. He followed the edge of her knee length sweater upwards, past her small breasts, and made eye contact. She turned her head away leaving only the phone to face him. She looked pretty enough, slender from the side view, with a gentle flow of black hair. She glanced back over to him again, acknowledging he was still staring, and walked away.

“Guess my day couldn’t be that good.” He mumbled and glanced back at the coffee shop.

He pressed himself up from the plastic chair and made his way inside. The barista behind the counter greeted him with a smile.

“I thought you were just going to sit out there without coming to see me—”

“No way!” He replied, edging up to the counter.

“Darn right.” She smiled again, “The usual Trent?”

Trent glanced at the menu above, still content with the usual, but never minded seeing what was new.

“Not today.” He said, “Today is a good day, I think I need something a little better. Any suggestions?” The girl cocked her head and grinned.

She held up a finger forcing him to wait, and began to make up a drink. He watched her pour coffee into a machine and press a few buttons that he couldn’t read. She was busy dumping things into the cup while Trent was busy staring through her yoga pants. The girl turned back around, and Trent looked back up before she could notice. She held out a foam cup filled almost to the rim.

“Rebecca’s special!” She said, handing off the beverage. “It’s my all time favorite, like, sooo good!”

Trent smiled and glanced down at the drink.

“What’s in it?”

“Turtle guts—” Rebecca laughed, unable to finish her joke. “Just try it!”

He blew a wisp of air over top and took a sip, swishing the liquid in his mouth to process the flavors. He almost heaved when he tasted it, and should have known by the burnt orange color. He hated pumpkin, but today it became his favorite flavor.

“Tastes like the turtle ate some pumpkin.” He smiled, “It’s awesome!”

Her eyes lit up at with his comment. She clapped her hands together and smiled.

“I knew you would like it!”

Trent handed over his credit card with a chuckle, humored that she knew far less about him than implied, but appreciated the gesture all the same. He glanced down at her name tag before signing the receipt, leaving a generous tip.

“Thanks again Rebecca.” He said.

She winked at him before helping the next customer.

**

Trent crossed the street to his apartment building. He entered the code from the landlord, which was easy to remember, being the numbers on the address. He had asked the landlord why the pass-code was so predictable. The man told him he received to many calls in the middle of the night by drunk residents that couldn’t remember four numbers. So he chose to make it easier for them, and in turn, giving him better sleep at night.

Trent had few worries of the safety of the building because it was in the better part of town. It was the east end that gave the police job security, and the west end was getting worse, but the north side was fairly docile and quiet.

He ascended the single staircase arriving quickly to his door. The second two had been broken off while wrestling a used couch upstairs with his brother a few months prior. They were grateful that his apartment was on the landing of the second floor, and didn’t have to struggle through another turn.

He kicked his shoes off at the door, the muscle memory was instilled by his mother’s constant nagging. He never liked how he had to take his shoes off, but guests didn’t. He still didn’t understand why, but figured there had to be a good reason because mom was always right.

He dropped the laptop bag off on the couch, which had been centered in the room since the day they brought it up, vowing never to move it again. He turned on the flat screen hanging on the wall and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. The sounds of rock music streamed from the tv, as the station that played his morning pump up music was still going.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

There wasn’t a whole lot to do at home by himself. He wished he could get a roommate, partly to split the bills, but more so to have the company. He wished he could find a girlfriend, as if she would be a treasure somewhere just waiting to be dug up. He had thought about asking Rebecca out on a date, but that was before she stunned him with her new engagement ring a couple weeks back. He was bummed, but couldn’t help being happy for her. It must be a great thing to have a companion, an actual person rather than the ones he chose in video games like Fallout. The landlord had reiterated multiple times about the “no pet policy”, and Trent signed the line agreeing to the standard, but he wondered more than once if he could sneak a cat in. He still gave part of his turkey sandwich to a calico that lived inside the weapons factory fence when he was on lunch break. He talked to her everyday.

“I would take you home in a heartbeat if I could Cally.” He had told her, giving her the name from the warmest place he could think of. Any state had to have better weather than Michigan.

Trent scanned through the cable channels before switching over to check his DVR. Keeping track with what shows were on and when was no longer a worry thanks to that little black box, but nothing must have been on the night before because it was empty save for Stepbrothers, which he always left on there claiming it never got old. Can’t hurt to watch it again. He took a sip of the newly favorite ‘Rebecca’s Special’ and propped his head under a few cushions.

He lost his attention to the movie before the opening scene was finished, which he could recite word-for-word anytime he wanted, and started flipping through his phone. Occasionally he would check his phone to see if someone had tried to call or send a message, but rarely had that been the case, and if it was, it was usually someone from work who needed him to fix something. He consumed the majority of his free time in random games and apps, or digging through conspiracy theories from the news. Most of the time he could easily come up with his own.

Trent opened his text messaging app, even though there wasn’t anything new, and read the last message he had received. Hey when you get a minute the big wig wants to see you up front. The message from his boss had a whole new meaning now compared to when he first read it. He thought he was in big trouble. But it turned out to be a promotion. Who would have thought? It hadn’t been the usual brown-nosed promotion either, he had earned it, and he knew he wanted it regardless of what the job was. He reached across and grabbed his laptop bag, placing the contents onto the hardwood floor under him. More money equals more options.

With more money he pictured himself moving into a new house, an actual house, as big and spacious as possible. He even contemplated letting mom come live with him, he would love the company, but would prefer it to be with a girlfriend or a wife. That would be ideal, but he would take mom if he had to. Something overlooking the water would be nice. Any water really. I would take a pond, the ocean, but maybe not the great lakes——I think I could do without those ever again.

He swept up a few loose papers from the floor and set them on the coffee table. It never seemed that the projects would stop as an engineer. You finish one, and they hand you two new ones. On top of all of those, he still was called all over to fix other machines that were broken-down or not running fast enough. The radio he wore would called out for him more than it did for any other engineers. He knew he was good, but sometimes he wished that there was someone else as good, to help take some of the ever piling load off. There were a few other engineers, though they will probably be good, they were still very new. One of the guys had just started a few months ago, and the other was barely out of orientation. It was a struggle at times by himself with no one else to rely on, but it payed the bills, and after next week it would pay them much easier. The project he was working on now however, was the toughest yet.

He grabbed a blueprint out of the bag as he did every night before bed, and set it in front of him. The milky white paper contrasted against the dark wood of the table as he leaned forward. He moved his face within inches of the blueprint until the majority of his visioned was fixated on the paper. He focused, making every word and line crisp in his sight.

“That was a little rough.” He said as the temperature in his body climbed close to burning after taking the mental picture. He went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror he saw his skin blush in splotches of red, and lifted his chin up high to check his nose for any signs of blood. He was relieved to find none because it always made it worse.

He put the shower on it’s coldest setting, and stood still while the water soothed his burning skin. It only took a few minutes for the heat to subside and allow him to add hot water and finish the rest of his shower like normal. God this sucks, but as of today the shits finally paying off. Only two more prints and I will be rich, as long as they keep their word.

He checked the mirror again as he rubbed the towel over his body, not noticing any more red spots on his skin. He would have done all of this at work still if he hadn’t had that seizure. Too much too fast. I would have been done by now. His skin seemed to get hotter every time he did this. It didn’t feel like this when he started, but then again it’s almost winter now, and perhaps the coldness that came with the season just heightened his sense for heat.

Just three more days and my job as an engineer will just be an alibi.