Chapter 2- Flynn
I walked into my workplace, immediately finding new reasons to hate it. The rain outside mirrored my sour mood. “Flynn Parker,” a harsh and icy voice said. I turned, cursing my luck.
“Ms. Pearce,” I murmured, looking at my boss. My boss was Yara Pearce. She was impossibly tall with platinum blonde hair styled in a chic bob and sharp features. Today, she wore a grey pantsuit which helped her blend into the drab walls.
“You’re late,” she spoke. When Ms. Pearce spoke, no one talked. No one would whisper. She held so much power over all of us, more than any of us could ever know.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Pearce. I was stuck in-”
“I have no time to hear your excuses. Get to work.” Her pale blue eyes stared into my soul as I hastily moved to the elevator, pressing the button for seventeen. My office was on the seventeenth floor which was higher up in the building. It touched the sky. I loved to see the open space and the shining tops of skyscrapers. I was a defense attorney at First-Star Order, but I didn’t like working here. Here, everyone seemed like a mindless robot, working tirelessly and with no purpose other than to win.
There were three main divisions. Each was run by someone else. Yara Pearce led the defense and criminal attorneys. Brendan Hale, a red-haired man whose hair color matched attitude, guided prosecutors and the like, and Klaus Rye, a brooding tall man, conducted the others, the litigators. These litigators were feared. Because of Klaus Rye, he turned them into vicious people. They tore at people’s defenses and rarely lost in court. They were called the Cavalry of Rye. The three leaders were all reined in by someone else. No one knew of his real name, only that he was called Seymour.
While reflecting on this, I had made my way to my desk. It was like the rest of the building, a boring grey color. I sat down and looked out the window. I couldn’t follow Ms. Pearce’s orders. I couldn’t tear apart someone in court. I observed, and I saw how defeated the other side looked. They knew they had lost when it was our turn to speak.
The First-Star Order was a vulture, tearing apart anyone who dared get in its way. I opened my computer, looking at emails. I flipped through notes and scrolled through web pages, looking for supposed ‘dirt’ on one of my cases. I had to represent Weiss Taylor, who was arrested for the attempted murder of Jennette Page. It was no surprise that Jennette Page worked for Resilience Freedom Fighters which was our opposing company. I wanted to join Resilience Freedom Fighters. They seemed better than First-Star Order. That was a dream. Now, I was stuck here.
I sighed, looking down at my watch. It was time for a lunch break. I signed out and stepped into the elevator, avoiding Ms. Pearce by sheer luck. I managed to leave the building and stood, letting the busy stream of people flow around me. I didn’t feel so trapped. I sighed and started walking down the street. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I was getting farther away from that dreaded building.
I stopped in front of a small cafe. The sign read ‘Blend, Body, and Bourbon.’ I shrugged to myself and entered. The inside was quaint, decorated in varying shades of bronze and brown. A chalk menu was hanging from the ceiling. Several plants littered the area. Huge, comfy armchairs were situated at the windows, and tables were placed in the middle of the room. There were little vases filled with ruby red flowers on each table. Currently, the cafe was empty except for the barista at the counter. Soulful music played from the speaker in the corner of the room. The barista perked up as soon as he saw me and waved. “Hello! Welcome to Blend, Body, and Bourbon! You can call it BB if you’d like.” I walked up to the counter and looked at the menu. The drinks were written in colorful chalk, bringing uniqueness to the little cafe.
“Hi. I’d like a vanilla cappuccino,” I said, pulling my wallet from my pocket.
“Coming right up, name?” the barista asked, pulling a cup from the dispenser.
“Flynn.” The barista smiled, scrawling my name on the cup. His curly black hair fell onto his forehead, and his smiles seemed to be made of happiness.
“I’m Pierce.” He made my coffee quickly and placed it into my hand. I allowed myself an extra moment, letting the warmth of his hand press into mine.
“Good to meet you,” I smiled, sitting in one of the oversized chairs. It was no surprise when it started to rain again. My eyes floated to meet Pierce’s. Pierce only grinned. His eyes had widened in childish excitement.
“Rain is just so beautiful,” Pierce began, resting his head on his palm. “I grew up thinking that everyone liked rain.”
“I do like rain.” Pierce’s grin grew.
“You’re a funny person, Flynn.”
“Me? Funny?” It was as if a wall had broken down. I could talk to Pierce. I learned that Pierce was charismatic. More so than me.
“Wait, you actually had eight pets?” I asked.
“Yes! I named every pet with two names. They always started with B. My first pet was a fish named Basil Bass. The next pet I had which was a cat was named Beatrice Beatty…” I was laughing along with Pierce. It grew late. “Hey, it’s almost closing time,” Pierce said, finally glancing at the clock.
“I had fun. Today was a stressful day at work,” I groaned.
“I understand.” I tilted my head in confusion. “I’m also a lawyer at Resilience Freedom Fighters.” Something cold and icy rushed through my veins, freezing the warmth I had. He was the enemy.
“So, where did you say you worked again?” he asked, wiping the counter.
I raised my head and bit my lip. “It’s complicated.”
“How so?” Pierce questioned, pausing to peer at me.
“I work at a law firm, and I don’t like it. I was wondering if I should get a job at Resilience Freedom Fighters.” It spilled from my lips. When I talked to Pierce, I could say anything.
“You should. I recommend it. It pays well, and everyone is kind and friendly to each other.” My heart clenched. It was exactly how I pictured it. “I could even put in a good word for you.”
“That would be appreciated,” I smiled.
“Here. Send me a copy of your resume and I’ll arrange for our boss to talk to you.” Pierce grabbed an empty coffee cup and scribbled his name, number, and email on it. “Also, feel free to send a text if you want to hang out. You seem like a cool person.”
“Thanks.” It felt amazing to talk about my life.
“I understand the stress of being a lawyer. It’s a challenging career choice, and you look very tired. I don’t want to say Resilience Freedom Fighters will be easier. If anything, it could be harder, but that doesn’t mean you should shy away from this opportunity. This could be the chance of a lifetime for you. If you don’t take this job, I understand as well. I’m just saying that this could be better than your current situation,” Pierce said like it was a great speech he told to those who lacked confidence.
I felt tears burning in my eyes. No one had ever talked to me like this. No one had ever shown concern like this. I could only manage a strained smile and quick parting as I ran out of the coffee shop into the rain. I continued running down the street, stopping once I couldn’t run anymore. I was in the middle of a junkyard. I let a scream loose. I was lost and confused. Pierce was an intriguing man. Sweet and charismatic, but at the same time, a tribute to his name, piercing and intense.
I felt tired, more tired than I had ever been in my life. I trudged back to the grey building, entering. Interestingly, Ms. Pearce didn’t reprimand me for taking a five hour lunch break. Instead, her eyes had followed me to the elevator. Disappointment dripped off of her at both my insolence and at dripping water all over the carpet. I couldn’t bring myself to be offended. I couldn’t feel anything. All I heard were the words of Pierce Delia. My fingers consciously gripped the coffee cup harder. “Chance of a lifetime,” I murmured to myself. I must have looked deranged and maybe even crazy. The coldness was getting to me. I quickly retrieved my umbrella and briefcase from my desk, and left. I couldn’t stand the grey anymore. It was unsettling that I had managed to survive five years at this place, but five hours changes my entire perspective.
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