HYPERFIXATION [MxM]

He was Cleo’s desire. His view of him through his classroom window on the third floor did not compare to seeing him up close. The bright sunlight beamed down onto his dark hair while the baggy t-shirt hung over his lean body.

Smearing the sweat from his forehead, he tensed forward as a hard smack landed on his back. Even so, he smiled brightly, displaying a boyish grin and white teeth. He had captured everyone’s attention, whether he knew it or not.

He captured his.

Cleo was the moth fluttering closer and closer to the enticing flame. It burned, but he couldn’t stop. He was getting too close, smelling the aches of his burnt wings.

He couldn’t stop.

He was in awe of the way he magnetized every person to him. He just wanted a moment to be one of those people. Regardless, he was content with looking at him from afar. He memorized every feature of his youthful self.

The way his crystal-blue eyes crinkled when he found something particularly funny, and the way his Adam’s apple rolled as he laughed. His laugh. Cleo drowned in his melodic tone. It was soft but deep like a quiet ocean wave crashing into the sand.

His strong and fit figure and proportions accentuated his appearance and made him everyone’s first glance. Cleo’s eyes lingered behind him constantly. He could only stare, a dream in his clouded mind.

He was a delicate masterpiece in his eyes, one that not even messy strokes or splatters could wreck. He was the brightest sun in the rainy season. He was above every being, the embodiment of elegance. No one could come close to him.

Yet, Cleo did—and he ruined everything.

20XX. Over the past few decades, ever since the rise of advanced biological sciences, society has begun considering not just wealth to determine an individual’s success in life, but also their second orientation.

Besides females and males, there were three subcategories: Alphas, Omegas, Betas.

An awakening that coincided with puberty. The type of trait received would constitute the scope of reputation and status.

Alpha: the most sought after orientation for both males and females. It was an indication of irrevocable strength, prestige, and power. It was a good predictor of rapid success and everlasting wealth, common in the corporate industry.

Beta: the second most prized orientation. While the other two identities gave off scents to attract their partners, Betas had little to none. And lacked the ability to identify pheromones. They were the workers of society, blending into the shadows of mundanity.

They were the bridge between the Alpha’s success and the Omega’s fertility. Despite the criticism of Beta’s lack of smell and low chances of mating, Betas were an integral part of a stable society. And their lack of scent made them less susceptible to “mistakes” and “problems.”

Omega: the least desired orientation. Recognized as the building blocks of civilization, an omega’s job was to solely reproduce—to breed. Society had deemed Omegas as lowly creatures with only instincts of desire. While the other two orientations also engage in unruly acts, Omegas are the only ones scrutinized.

So, with the control of the media over the public, a hierarchy was created and placed in an already cruel world. It was shallow at best, promiscuous at worst—

“Hey, newbie!”

A cold bottle was tapped gently against the blonde’s temple. Blinking, the blonde glanced up at his attacker. It was a woman with her brown hair tied tightly into a bun. With a grin, she raised an eyebrow and gestured with the bottle.

“Mr. Adkins, I can’t believe you’re slacking already.”

“I apologize, Ms. Walter.”

He accepted the cold drink absently.

“Oh, please,” the woman waved her hand with a disgusted expression, “that makes me feel old. Zena is perfectly fine.”

“Cleo. Cleo Adkins.”

Zena’s face softened, and she chuckled. “No need to sound so stiff. We will be seeing each other very often.” Nonetheless, she stretched out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Cleo.”

Eyeing her hand, Cleo reluctantly accepted it; what his boss said did sound like a threat, but there was nothing he could do, being the new face. As Employee Manager, Zena Walter was in charge of managing all the new recruits to Hyde, placing Cleo under her authority.

“Oh, right!” Zena clapped her hands together. “There will be a gathering for all the new employees tonight." She sang the last part, "You are required to come.”

Cleo sighed internally but resisted the urge to groan. He returned the cheesy smile. “Of course.”

Zena opened her mouth, but all Cleo could focus on was her strong and tangy scent that seemed to lift off her blouse. Unlike his peachy fragrance that lingered gently, Zena’s woody smell overpowered. He fought to stop his heart from beating rapidly.

After all, he wasn’t in high school anymore; he was in the “real” world. There would be variables that he would have to become familiar with.

“Were you listening?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.”

The corner of Zena’s lips curled, and a playfulness shone in her brown eyes. “Then, what did I say?”

“Log onto the computer. Fill out a profile. And submit the opening file.”

Zena blinked. “Good job, newbie.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright then!” She clapped her hands together again. “That was all I had for you today. Clock-out time is at five.”

She slapped a sticky note on the edge of the computer. “Don’t forget the gathering!”

And off she went.

Cleo sighed quietly under his breath, not understanding where his boss received her energy from. Being here for only a couple of minutes had already drained his bones. He felt like an overcooked noodle.

After adjusting the collar of his suit—the one his mother gave him after graduation—he placed his fingers on the keyboard. The familiar bright screen greeted him, and he began clicking around. On the right corner of the desktop was a folder containing all his information.

Getting this job was easier than he expected; he’d argue that applying was the painful part. He wasn’t ungrateful for it…just surprised. Because of his second orientation, his hopes were scattered. But it seemed Hyde was looking for all types of employees.

Hyde.

Cleo would have been an idiot for not recognizing the name. Not just because of the company’s reputation, but because of the familiar ties he had with it. With the boy who had the brightest stars in his eyes. Stars that Cleo ruined.

Built from the ground up, Hyde was the first company to utilize second orientations, leeching off the success of alphas. Quickly, the company prospered from partnerships, investments, resources, and, of course, money. Hyde had everything.

Prestige, power, and property.

From high school to gap years to online community college, snagging this position came with both pressure and excitement. This was Cleo’s first experience with the real world besides drifting through the mundane, everyday things.

Amid his scrolling, Cleo picked up a strong citrusy scent: sour, sweet, prickly. He resisted the motion of coughing as he crushed his hand on his knee, digging his nails into the fabric of his pants. He could already feel his heart quickening and exhaled deeply. Heat pricked his forehead, and beads of sweat began to form.

A hand fumbled through his messenger bag, searching through papers and keys until it touched a familiar pill bottle. Supressents. Shaking, all he heard was emptiness. He mumbled a curse but released his grip on the bottle, his fingers returning to the keyboard.

Stop. Stop it.

He was acting like a child because of a mere smell that dictated his body, his every action, and his puzzling thoughts. He was going to be surrounded by these smells constantly, a reminder of the consequences his body harbored.

He needed to calm down; he must not, could not, show any flaws.

Cleo’s fingers typed like engines, filling out the blank boxes and correcting any details. He skimmed his photo, the one he had his mother take with a quick snap, and stared numbly at the bolded words: Employee of Cyrez Hyde.

An image popped up in his mind, but he hurriedly erased it. He thought he had done everything he could to escape that name ever since high school, but it seemed like everything he did only traced back to him. And now, it would never leave him.

Was this his karma?

Whatever it was, Cleo pushed away the hypothetical and shifted his attention toward the note hanging on for dear life on his computer. Written with a sparkly pen, the loud words ‘Employee’ and ‘Gathering’ were scribbled onto the piece of paper.

He could hear the excitement oozing from Zena’s voice. Underneath, read the time and location. While Cleo would rather do something more productive, the probability of bailing was slim. Plus, it was technically his first—second task from his superior.

So, weighing the odds, it looked like he was going to attend. Intensely focused, Cleo continued typing. He sat in his own cubicle with white walls surrounding him, but there were key clicks all around him. He didn’t know how many new recruits Hyde obtained, but knowing that he was the only one relieved him. At least he hoped.

Hovering the mouse cursor over the submit button, he was about to slump back against his chair. But before he could, he tensed up at the abrupt noises.

“Mr. Hyde!”

Eyes wide, Cleo watched as every employee, intern, and staff, shot up from their seats with ruler-like posture. His head spun at the spike of scents, but he followed their lead, standing up with shaky knees. Head down, his mind started to swirl with colors. It was the smell he wanted to forget.

But he never did, because he recognized it instantly. And quite pathetically.

Rich and smoky, strong and warm. From the depths of the earth.

His knees began to wobble, and he clenched the hems of his suit. He prayed his knees wouldn’t buckle underneath him. That'd only feed into his patheticness. His knuckles soon turned white, and red painted the tips of his ears. He mumbled out a greeting, purposely skipping over the familiar name.

Feeling the aroma shift, Cleo decided to peek up from the ground. He hadn’t seen him in so long…He was slightly curious about what he looked like. Would he still have that shine that attracted him in the first place?

Cleo immediately regretted his decision.

His dark strands that used to lie messily on his head, with sweat dripping from the tips, were now gelled back with a few framing his forehead. A furrowed expression. Fierce and slanted eyes. Not a glimmer of light in those blue, crystal eyes.

Cleo’s green eyes rounded when those piercing jewels locked with his. In a flash, he peeled his gaze away, gluing it onto the floor. His focus quickly became blurry.

When the office turned silent, the rich and smoky smell dissipating, he released a sigh and slumped onto his chair. He’d never liked leather until now.

He placed a hand over his heart, the beats thumping like a prisoner against his palm. The tips of his ears remained tinted as it slowly crept down to his cheeks.

He’s gotten…taller.

Despite the many years that passed, his body still reacted the same. Ridiculous. Cleo wanted to cry, to scream at his feeble attempts. But he couldn’t. Clock-out wasn’t until an hour later. Just his luck.

He prayed for the time to pass quickly.