Rain was the first thing that came to mind; rain was the only thing that came to mind. It was a strange thought really. As Andrew stared at his disposable bottle covered in wrinkles in the plastic, he watched the small drops within the upper half of the container that were left over from his final gulp slither to the bottom. The trickles reminded him of the rain that drizzled over him back when he was riding his bike around the neighbourhood block. He remembered it so vividly though. Those boisterous times were stained on him forever, literally. Andrew was quite the rambunctious youngster and was a fine collector of bruises over the course of the years. Fortunately, all that was behind him, but yet, he desperately wanted it back. Memories of the rain returned to him and started churning in his head like a spinning top that would never stop or slow down, not even the slightest. His mind began drifting off into the endless void of his stray subconscious, hoping he’d be able to find something, but he didn’t know what. The cold, ligneous office chair that he was situated on suddenly vanished, ceasing to exist. The floor had also disappeared and now he sensed that he was floating in nothingness. It felt harmonious. For once in the past few weeks, Andrew felt like he had actually achieved something monumental - peace.

The calm, relaxing instance didn’t last very long. Andrew’s brain became clouded with echoes of a grizzled, raspy voice. The voice got louder, and louder, until it was full on yelling. All of a sudden, he felt a swift smack on his forehead. He had abruptly awoken from his short and magnificent chimera, having propped open his barren eyes. The burning sensation from the brief blow only lasted for a second or two, but the real reason why it made him abandon his mind trip was the scare it inflicted.

Andrew started to gain more consciousness and awareness of his surroundings, until his eyes quickly found a blurry, sizable figure. His vision shifted and the fuzzy outline on the entity became less discrete. The figure was now directly in front of him. Andrew began rapidly blinking and squinting harder until he deciphered that the figure was a man, a very large man. He was so close to him that he could literally see the beads of sweat traveling from his head and down to his neck. The broad sir wore an elegant business suit, including a red tie that seemed to have been recently bought. Eyes leaned into the panicked man as he steadily turned his chair to fully witness him. The business man’s hands were now firmly gripped on both armrests of the furniture and took away any possible distraction that would cause Andrew to look at something other than the man’s pudgy face. Andrew felt trapped. It was like he had instantly shrunk down five feet and his throat was entirely swollen, making it impossible to convey even the smallest of sighs. His state of mind had gone from mildly alarmed to extremely appalled. Even though the business man’s current glare alone could make a fire-breathing dragon whimper, what really gave him the creeps was his bald head. It was as if his it was magnet that kept yanking at Andrew’s gaze and staring at his soul. It didn’t help that the naked territory was maintained very neatly, making it so smooth and shiny that he could see his own reflection, crystal clear. It whipped up even more fear inside of him. The giant unlocked his ample mouth and vacuumed all the air in the area to voice his carefully chosen words,

"Do you know what you are, Mr. Mackenzie?"

Andrew quickly shook his head in dissent of the simple and confusing question as curiosity and worry filled his body for the very large man’s response.

"A _", he enunciated.

A puzzled look settled on Andrew as the man continued his lecture.

"You think that you’re the centre of attention and that your frequent dilly-dallying will go unnoticed?"

The business man took in a heavy sigh and disappointment was smeared across his display.

"You know I can’t keep doing this", said the man. "I’ve already given you way too many chances. If you keep this up, I’ll have no choice but to give you the boot."

Andrew took in a mammoth gulp. Just the thought of it made him want to throw up.

"Listen, here’s what I’m going to do", he softly said. "I’m going to pretend like this never happened. By that, I mean that this conversation never existed in the history of the world. What you will keep in mind though is that there’s no more warnings or chances for you. Understand?"

He nodded. Having nothing else to say, the large man patted him on the shoulder before exiting the room. Andrew rotated his chair to the side he was formerly facing since the brute had interrupted him. The palms of his hands were now sweating a lake and his heart could power an entire house. He placed his elbows on the armrests and lay exhausted with his back pressed against the head of the chair. He took in a couple of deep breaths until he sat vertically straight to continue his lovely day.

Andrew tried to securely grasp the mouse on his desk as if the large man was watching his every move from all directions, waiting for him to screw up at any moment. Immediately after he had gotten back to work, a light knock resonated on the door.

"What is it now?" he thought to himself.

The door had creaked open a bit, just enough to let the visitor enter. Scanty footsteps could be heard, inching towards him. Andrew used his feet on the rugged floor to thrust his chair to turn towards the visitor. As he was slowly revolving to face the guest, he became annoyed of the thought of having another person come up to him to sass him about his displeasing work ethic.

"If you’re here to mock, taunt, ridicule, or any of the above, then make it quick", said Andrew in disgust. "Before I-", he refrained from carrying through his irritated warning when he caught a glimpse of who he was actually talking to. The self-invitee was already in the middle of the place and didn’t seem at all agitated from his previous assumption. Instead, he bore a glistening smile across his face that featured two perfect arrays of pearls that showed no skews. He gowned a set of clothes almost identical to that of the large man’s that invaded the room prior to him, the only difference being that the outfit was snugly adjusted to his relatively slim build. The only problem about him was that, unlike his flattering attire and beaming grimace, the thick strings on his pate were completely off from the rest of him, as if his hair was the wrong chord in a music piece; it didn’t work. His top side was a nest, really, Andrew could’ve sworn that he saw a branch poking out at some point. The brownness of it was somehow odd to him; not too dark, not too light, simply odd. 

Nonetheless, he knew this somewhat messy man very well and was already used to his particular style of presentation. With both hands in his pockets, the visitor replied to Andrew’s halted salutation, "What? Cat got your tongue? Spit it out."

"No, just...you weren’t who I was expecting would come in", he said in a relieved tone.

"Oh, well I can go if you want." said the guest with uncertainty.

"No, no, I didn’t mean it like that."

"I know, just messing with you" joked the man. "I heard the GM making quite the ruckus in here a second ago. Is everything okay? Is that why you’re all worked up?" asked the guest, genuinely concerned for him.

"No Tracey, its fine. Dozed off is all. He came in to wake me up to get me back on to my assignment, which is what I should be doing right now."

"Sorry to disturb, but it’s just that this is the third time the Peters’ given you a hard time. This isn’t looking too good."

"I’m aware of that, but please, I need to be alone right now," responded Andrew.

The man looked down and nodded, understanding his situation and gave him a puckered grimace. He then departed the work station, closing the door behind him while making the least sound possible, but it still made that loathing screeching tune that tormented his eardrums.

Although he didn’t show it due to his display that was covered with anxiety, he appreciated the lopsided man’s lend of aid as he was one of the few friends he made after arriving in the new city. Tracey was his name. Tracey Caswell. He’d only met him a month ago, but ever since then, Tracey was always helping Andrew with adjusting to the office and accustoming him to the building and its various employees. It was difficult for him to adapt, but with Tracey’s guidance, it was much easier than what it could’ve been. Still, it took him over a week just to locate and memorize where the bathrooms were. He never knew why Tracey was helping him. It’s not like the guy was some sort of manager that made sure everyone who worked there weren’t wasting the company’s time. It was just his character; who he was. Andrew constantly saw Tracey donning his proud smile everywhere and socializing with everyone, even the large man that visited Andrew before him, Mr. Peters.

He praised and found it unbelievable how comfortable Tracey was when speaking to Mr. Peters, the General Manger, commonly referred to as the GM. He rules the business with an iron fist and never takes no for an answer. Peters has been in business for thirty years and was only promoted to his current position last year. He wasn’t even properly promoted; it was because the precedent GM went into a coma. This unfortunate mishap lead up to the large man’s job upgrade. Police claim that the 59-year-old accidentally digested too much of his regular medications in too short of a timespan. Rumor has it that Peters slipped in an overdose of drugs into the previous GM’s drink which caused his coma that he’s presently experiencing. Andrew obviously didn’t believe in that; Peters may have been awfully dedicated to his life career, but didn’t fit the profile of a potential killer. The heinous plot may have been a hoax, but the thirty years weren’t. Thirty years. Thirty years It resonated vociferously and the fact always brought up the honest question that was stored in the back of his head, "What chance do I have?" He hated thinking about it, and every time he did, his chest became heavy, as if a stone pillar made up of his angers, frustrations and worries, weighing him under with all its might.

He whirled his chair back in front of his desk. For some reason, he expected there to be something glorious on top of the counter that would spin his entire life around in a flash. But nothing changed. It was all the same. Same old wood as bland as bread, same old computer as lousy as _, and same old mouse as meager as...well, a mouse. And after all that, he went back to the empty bottle. The molecules of water he was previously gawking were gone. They had fallen from the upper and were all huddled up in one of the bottom crevices of the jug. Fixed on the transparent liquid, he discovered something; the drops were the only things that did change. He desired to be a simple droplet in his bottle, that way he actually be going somewhere. No matter what, he would remain in a non-stop cycle bound by the laws of science and nature. Always moving. "Evaporation, condensation, precipitation", he recalled in his head. He didn’t remember when he had learnt those key words, but those times were no longer familiar to him. Times were he spent outside, in the rain. But as he put more though into it, he discovered something even wiser: if he was a drop, he’d have to go down at some point in his lifetime. And if he went down, eventually, he’d have to come up.

Things got too complicated for Andrew’s average intellect to think about and decided to disembark his derailing train of thought. He looked around the room meticulously and recognized he was mistaken about one of his earlier conclusions; the water wasn’t the only thing that changed. A tick struck the room with a roaring, but very brief vibration. He glanced at the source of the pulse for a moment but he didn’t pay attention to what it truly exhibited. Seconds later, although he already saw the origin of the noise, he took a fearful double-take at the black and white clock in the upper right corner of the expanse, and he realized, it was only eight thirty.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2: Across the Hall