𝒢𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒 𝒫𝒪𝒱

"Hello Cameron," My words came out all smushed from my jaw being restricted. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" I really can't think of any reason he should be calling so early in the morning.

"Oh jeez, you forgot."

I frown, waiting for Dream's coffee to fill up the cup. I pour the milk in along with the stream of coffee, watching as it mixes together in a spiral of umber darkness and snowy white. "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that, Cameron. What did I forget exactly?"

"Our little field trip? The one the professor sent out a reminder for last night?"

The jug of milk stops moving in my hand. "Tell me that's not today."

"It's today George. Your's is Vivid Enterprises. You think you can get there?"

The phone slips from my shoulder, sliding from my shirt to the floor. I catch it as it falls against my knee, sending a spike of pain through my leg. My hand grasps the counter in reflex.

"George! Look–" The large cup tips over, sending steaming hot coffee spilling over the counter, all over my apron and jeans. The liquid sinks into my apron and dots my jeans, staining everything a caramel color.

"George?! Is everything okay?" Cameron shouts into the phone and I wince, not only at his closeness into the mic, but the fact that my skin is being baked inside the moistened fabric. I sniff the pain away, sighing and looking up in defeat.

"Karma." I see Dream's face staring down at me from over the counter, his expression speaking volumes.

"George!"

"How did you get hired again?" He asks, looking at my jeans with humor. "I don't think someone as uncoordinated as you should be making people's drinks."

I block the speaker with my hand.

"Dream will you fuck off?" I ask with mock politeness. I shoot an irritated glance at everyone who's craning their neck over the counter to stare at me, and they immediately turn around looking anywhere else. Emily rushes over, blabbering something whilst cleaning up the mess, leaving me to gripe on the floor.

I cut myself off at the sound of Cameron's frantic voice. "Hello? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah I'm here, sorry." I sigh.

"You're at the coffee shop right?"

Yes... "I am. Listen, can you check and see what time my thing starts?" I plead, gesturing to Emily to keep the line moving. I glare at Dream who was stood there watching me, fighting the impulse to stick my middle finger into his eye socket.

"Already did. Bad news, your place is a twenty minute drive from here. And it starts in five minutes."

"Oh my God my grade." I clutch my head with both hands, listening to his slow breathing on the line. I must sound like a rearing rhinoceros right now with how worked up I am. "Where are you going?"

"DreamTech. It's about ten minutes out." I choke on my own saliva, whirling to face Dream who's startled at the sudden look. I look away quickly, staring out the window past his ear. I'm about to reply when he speaks again, with a soft, thoughtful tone.

"I mean, yours is only a few minutes out from my apartment. I bet I could make it if I leave right now."

Warmth crawls hesitantly into my chest. "Really? Can you even do that?"

"Well, probably? I doubt they'll really care. I'll just make up some bullshit about always wanting to go there or something."

"I'm going to owe you forever, thank you so much."

"Hey, none of that. It's no problem." He takes a pause. "Actually there is one catch,"

I kneel down, catching the wet rag thrown my way to clean up the sticky floor. "Okay, what is it?"

"You let me take you out on a date." I stare straight ahead at the mahogany colored cabinet, processing his words. They don't really register until I hear him hold his breath in what probably is regret.

"I mean if you wouldn't mind of course. And I was just joking honestly ha-ha, you don't have to do anything you don't–"

Where did that even come from? I think back to any sign, anything that could have hinted at him liking me more than a friend, but came up with nothing. My mouth moves before I can stop it. "Ok, fine. Deal."

"Really?" I confirm with a tired smile. "Hell yeah!"

"Alright I have to go. I'll talk to you later." He says goodbye and I disconnect the call. I turn around to remake Dream's drink and just get him out of here as quickly as possible.

"Look, I'm having an awful day." Again. "If you could just leave the shitting on me for sometime later, I would appreciate it."

I avoid looking into his light eyes, just relieved that my voice hasn't cracked. The ache in my throat was increasing by the second and I swallow with difficulty, forcing my eyes to stop fucking watering every two seconds.

He studies me wordlessly, then takes a seat at the counter and goes back to scrolling on his phone without sparing me another glance, giving me at least a little peace of mind.

I grab more chilled coffee out of the cooler and start working again. I swear, even my strokes of luck come with problems. Dumping ice into marbled liquid, I pump two squirts out of the vat of espresso shots that were pre-made. Maybe I can keep my head down and pray that I won't encounter Dream today...at his own company.

Piping hot milk fills up to the mark as I start on the latte, adding vanilla syrup and espresso quickly. His voice stops my hand as I'm about to snap on the lid.

"Do you have any like, red stuff that you can put on top?" He asks, cheeks slightly tinted at the very bizarre question.

"Red stuff," I repeat dumbly.

"Yeah, like sprinkles or something." He mutters. "Quit looking at me like that!"

I turn around and open the milkshake drawer, fishing for the heart ones that I know for a fact are red so I wouldn't have to ask him. He looks even more embarrassed when he sees me pour on the valentine's day themed decorations on top of a new layer of foam.

"Is there a reason you want those on? You realize sprinkles don't really taste like anything right?" I query, shutting the drink and sliding both over to him. Is this his secret embarrassing quirk that I can blackmail him with? Maybe I should sell it to the press for exactly 1285 dollars.

"I dunno, she just likes red stuff." He shrugs, crossing his arms with a scowl. Damn it. There goes that plan.

"She?" I snort whilst putting all my stuff away. I shed my apron last, hanging it on the hook. "I seriously wonder how you got a girlfriend."

"She's–You know what? I doubt you have one, so..." He drops the sentence, looking up at the ceiling like he can't believe he's having this conversation. "Ok, thanks for making me late."

He glances at the coffee spilled all over me. "I mean the...you know, latte."

"Smooth." I sigh. That man really just autocorrected an insult.

He rolls his eyes and I watch him stalk out, weaving his way through the row of people waiting in line impatiently. I almost stopped him. I'm going to his company anyway, might as well save myself the embarrassment of him finding out I'm there and mentioning it in front of everyone. I could have even stolen a ride.

Instead, I explain to Emily my situation, telling her I'll get someone to take my shift if she can hold down the fort for a little while. She looked terrified but there wasn't anything I could really do...so I left.

Thank God I had some sense to pack some clothes in the back just in case. Wilbur always teased me for being ready for every worst case scenario. If I survive the day, I get to stick this in his face. I yank off my wet jeans, searching through the pockets for any money and my keys.

"I could sell this for some decent cash." I threaten the wall, shoving Dream's neon yellow note into a random cupboard.

I pull on the very crumpled shirt and curse myself. I have a nice shirt, but I don't have the trousers nor the suit jacket to go with it. I'm really interested in knowing my thought process.

I shuffle through Karl's stuff, who was as paranoid about stuff like this as me. Thankfully, he's got a pair of black trousers which I pull on instantly. I also find a nice tie, a navy one with white strips, pulling it on and tying it with the aid of muscle memory, whilst rushing into the bathroom. I tussle my hair, exhaling in relief when I realize it doesn't look too bad.

Mental Note: Pick up that sushi from the supermarket that Karl mentioned he would die for to apologize for fishing around his things and stealing his pants.

I wet a towel and wiped the coffee that had seeped through the neck of my t-shirt off my skin. Emily shouts after me as I dash out of the doors, leaving her with a huge line of customers. I'll have to make it up to her somehow.

I sent a quick text into our shop group chat, pleading for someone to take the last half an hour of my shift. Thankfully, someone replied that they could make it, taking just a bit of stress off my shoulders. I step onto the pedal of my bike hard and it zooms off on the pavement, whilst I blast Google Maps at full volume.

Turn left onto Cherry Avenue. Then, in a quarter mile, turn left onto Fourth street.

I stare at the man at the reception desk in a bit of a shock. It's really sad that this is the first time I've ever seen a man in a position like this and not a lady.

"Um, hello. Can I help you?"

Said man is also looking at me like I'm some sort of threat, probably because I was stupid enough to bike the two and a half miles over here. Although the traffic was really bad and it would have taken ten minutes anyway, at least I wouldn't be sweating like mad, looking like a complete idiot.

"Hi, sorry, I'm here with the doctorate students from Orlando Institute of Technology. I'm a replacement for Cameron Garcia. My name is George Davidson." Words jumble up in my mouth, spitting out at him through every heavy exhale.

"Ok George, can I see your school ID please." He asks pleasantly. I nod, pulling out my wallet and handing him the card. He checks it and nods, handing it back to me. He rolls over to the back desk, inputting my information into a system.

He asks to take my picture and leads me over to a white screen. I tussle up my hair and smooth my shirt self consciously, trying to give a convincing smile.

I watch as a blank plastic card moves through the viewing screen of the machine, printing on my face and a series of numbers, leaving the sealing of a small chip at the bottom left corner for last. Even the badge making tech was advanced, and these people certainly aren't afraid to show it off.

I'm startled as bright lasers light it up, dancing around the small space like a small disco ball. Micheal huffs and quickly plucks it out of its slot, effectively turning them off.

"He put that in just to annoy me, sorry." He chuckles, handing me my newly minted visitor pass.

"He?" I ask, still staring at the machine that was supposed to be so simple.

"The CEO. Big boss. Told him that the badge-making machine was too flashy and that's what I got for opening my big mouth." He says, settling back at his computer. "Alrighty, they're still on the tour, you're only a few minutes late so you should be able to slip in, not-a-problem. I'll send someone to get you up to where they are."

I barely catch what he's saying. "You know him? Dream?"

"Don't get all fan-girly on me." He chuckles. I suppress the urge to gag, offering a weak laugh. "He tries to get to know his employees, even lowly receptionists like me."

"Everyone has to start from somewhere," I assure him and he grins.

"He's a good guy, it's hard to find that in people that high up." He mentions offhandedly. I hum.

I don't comment on his opinion on Dream. He obviously treats people differently in a work setting. That or he just really has something against me. Either way, I'm not stupid enough to start bad-mouthing him to his employees.

Especially one that seems quite enthusiastic about him.

A lady with a clipboard clacks over to us, nodding to me to follow her. I wave goodbye to the dude at the reception desk who I never asked for his name. Feeling kind of bad about that, I followed her into the lift, anxiety spiking because of course, it was made out of almost entirely glass. That seemed to be a running theme around here.

We shoot up to the fifteenth floor and she escorts me to a balcony that looks down to the lobby. There's a group of my peers gathered around looking up at the ceiling for some reason. She holds out a hand, gesturing to them and I make my way over, avoiding the stare of the tour guide.

Her french-tipped nails point at the ceiling again. I find her hispanic accent pleasant on the ears. After hearing mostly Americans around me for so long, it's a nice change of pace. "Ahem, as I was saying,"

Everyone's necks crane up again in interest, as does mine. "These are biometric drones developed by our security team. They have 360 degree cameras, routinely inspect our badges for fakes, and they also scanned each and every one of you upon your arrival for anything that could potentially endanger the building."

I glance up to see dozens of small white drones flying around, dodging and weaving through the beautifully colored glass hanging down from the middle of the roof as a centerpiece for the building. The sunlight reflects off of them, making beautiful patterns on each floor for everyone to marvel at.

A girl raises her hand. I recognize her. She's a freshman, straight out of highschool and into her bachelor's degree. She contacted me, Cameron, and a few others through one of our old professors to ask about what the doctorate program is like, because she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. I think her name is Sarah.

"Does the board approve of these smaller projects within the company or is it just the CEO?" She asks.

"Our CEO approves of the project to begin with; then makes a few inputs of his own before approaching the board with the idea. If it's agreed upon and after sorting out the legalities, we go ahead and implement it into our systems, our security, or wherever the product is most beneficial."

A small drone floats down in front of Sarah's face and she reaches her hand out. It hovers over her palm for a second before whirring past, proceeding to her chest where her badge was clipped. It scans it and beeps, a small LED lighting up yellow. Just as she starts to turn away to look at her friend, a small gush of water flies at her face., hitting her square in the forehead.

Water drips from her hair as she stares in shock. Her friends all laugh and I join in after Sarah does, snickering as she slowly wipes at her face.

"Our boss has got an interesting sense of humor, so sorry about that." Our tour guide giggles. She waves at a few people that walk by us, greeting them before waving us forward.

We visit five floors before we're finally put into a conference room. I have to say, I'm more impressed than I thought I would be. Dream has managed to power the whole building with solar panels, making everything eco-friendly. It's obvious that the people he chooses are passionate about what they do, which makes sense considering the company's many achievements.

The technology is very advanced. A lot of what we're shown isn't in the market, and won't be for a couple of years at least. It's a carbon copy of everything I would want to work for.

I wish I had never met him. Maybe if I was unaware of how much of a prick the CEO is, I would have applied for a job here.

"Alright everyone. This is where I depart. It was awesome meeting all of you. I hope to see you here soon!"

Everybody thanks her and she waves as she leaves, letting a new lady in through the door. She's beautiful in a sleeveless sheath dress, the color so saturated that even I can tell is carmine. Her scarlet lip color matches fabric, but other than that, her makeup is minimal. She clearly doesn't need it. Light blue eyes shine in the natural light, and brilliantly white teeth smile kindly at us.

I wonder if this was who Dream was talking about.

"Hello, my name is Leia." She says. I notice a nostalgic gleam in her eyes. "If you don't mind, I'd love it if you'd say hi to your professors for me. I miss them very much." Several people agreed, as the TV behind her turned on.

"So, I am Dream's personal assistant and advisor. He's our CEO if you didn't already know. I basically remember important things, and keep his schedule do-able, run the company." She whispers the last part and we all chuckle. "Everything he doesn't have time to do while he's off being a total nerd."

"Hey, I'm not a total nerd."

//

figured I'd post a day early in honor of my birthday :D