Chapter 19: New Faces
EL'S APARTMENT - 6:02 AM - WEDNESDAY
BEEEEEP-BEEEEEP-BEEEEEP
El's eyes opened.
He reached for his coffee maker first-always first-before his phone, before the card, before anything.
The familiar gurgle of water heating, the rich smell filling his small kitchen.
His one constant.
His one comfort.
He drank it standing at the counter, black, no sugar.
The mug was old, chipped at the rim, but it was his.
Three creamers would come later, at Whimsy, to mask the bitterness.
But morning coffee was different.
Morning coffee was real.
He refilled his thermos before leaving.
Always did.
Office coffee was undrinkable-everyone knew it.
The machine hadn't been cleaned since 2019, according to Janet from Accounting's repeated warnings.
Only after the thermos was secured did he glance at the nightstand.
The cracker was still there, still glowing faintly in the gray morning light.
The card sat beside it, those familiar words watching him like silent judges.
Stop looking for the exit.
Sweet dreams, El.
The symbol.
The entrance is where you first found me.
Remember the flowers.
All still there.
All still waiting.
Oreo stretched at the foot of the bed, yawned, and immediately went back to sleep.
"Some guard cat," El muttered.
He picked up the cracker.
Warm.
Glowing.
Alive.
Friday, he thought.
After the deadline. I'm coming, Kaye.
He set it down, grabbed his thermos, and walked out the door.
---
LANDSBURGE CENTRAL TRAIN STATION - 7:48 AM
The train station was its usual chaos-rushing commuters, screeching rails, the smell of diesel and damp concrete.
El found his spot near the doors, thermos in hand, and pulled out his phone.
The work chat was already active.
JANET FROM ACCOUNTING: Has anyone seen the new printer password? I've been here since 7 and I can't print.
DEMI: THE PRINTER HAS A PASSWORD?! SINCE WHEN?!
JANET FROM ACCOUNTING: Since yesterday. Mr. Hendricks changed it. For "security purposes."
DEMI: WHAT SECURITY. IT'S A PRINTER. IT PRINTS PAPER. WHAT IS THERE TO SECURE.
JANET FROM ACCOUNTING: Demi, I don't make the rules. I just suffer under them.
El scrolled past the chaos and noticed something new-an unfamiliar name in the chat.
Nev Blackwood had joined the channel.
No welcome message.
No introduction.
Just the name, sitting there like a question mark.
El stared at it for a moment, took a sip from his thermos, then pocketed his phone.
The train arrived.
---
TATE ASSOCIATION - 8:45 AM
El walked through the lobby, nodded at the security guard, and stepped into the elevator, thermos still in hand.
The ride to the 9th floor gave him thirty seconds of silence.
Thirty seconds to think about Kaye.
About the cracker.
About Friday.
The doors opened.
And there was Demi, leaning against the wall, holding a bag of chips like it was a morning beverage.
"You're late," Demi announced.
Then his eyes landed on the thermos.
"You and that thermos. It's like a security blanket. But for caffeine."
El unscrewed the lid. Steam rose.
"It's coffee."
"It's RELIGION, El. Don't downplay it."
They walked toward the cubicles together.
The office was already humming-keyboards clicking, phones ringing, the usual symphony of corporate existence.
As they rounded the corner, a familiar voice greeted them.
"-and they expect ME to fix it? I'm a COORDINATOR. That's literally a different job description. Do I look like an assistant to you? DO I?"
Mark.
He was hunched over his desk, glaring at his monitor like it had personally offended him.
His tie was slightly crooked, his hair was a mess, and his coffee mug had the words "I SURVIVED HENDRICKS" printed on it in fading letters.
The mug was empty-tragically, visibly empty.
Demi leaned toward El.
"Morning, Mark. Still fighting the good fight?"
Mark spun around, eyes wide.
"They changed the printer password. AGAIN. I've been here since 7:45 and I CAN'T PRINT. And instead of giving the password to SOMEONE WHO NEEDS IT, Hendricks sent me a three-paragraph email about 'initiative' and 'problem-solving skills.' THREE PARAGRAPHS, EL."
El blinked. "Did you try restarting it?"
Mark stared at him. "Of course I restarted it. I'm not an IDIOT. I'm just-
He stopped, deflated.
"You know what? Never mind. I'll figure it out. Like I figure out everything else around here."
As if on cue, a head peeked nervously from the cubicle across the way.
Théo Nakamura.
The intern looked like he hadn't slept-messy black hair even messier than usual, large dark eyes somehow wider than normal.
He clutched a tablet to his chest like a shield.
In his other hand, he held a sad-looking cup of break room coffee, steam rising weakly.
"Uh... Mark?"
Théo's voice was barely above a whisper.
"The printer password... do you know it? Because I have to print the Q3 memos and Mr. Hendricks said-"
Mark threw his hands up.
"I DON'T KNOW THE PASSWORD, THÉO. NO ONE KNOWS THE PASSWORD. HENDRICKS CHANGED IT FOR 'SECURITY' AND NOW WE'RE ALL PRISONERS IN OUR OWN OFFICE."
Théo flinched.
"O-okay. Sorry. I'll just... I'll figure something out."
He started to retreat, taking a sip of his coffee.
His face immediately twisted in horror.
"How do you guys drink this? It tastes like... like..."
"Regret," El offered quietly.
Théo nodded miserably. "Yeah. Regret."
El spoke: "Théo. Check the shared drive. Sometimes he saves passwords there. Under 'resources.'"
Théo's eyes widened with hope.
"Really?"
El nodded once.
"Thanks, El! You're a lifesaver!"
Théo scurried away, nearly tripping over his own feet, his terrible coffee sloshing dangerously.
Demi watched him go.
"That kid is one strong wind away from a breakdown."
Mark muttered, turning back to his computer:
"WELCOME TO THE CLUB, KID."
---
CONFERENCE ROOM - 9:15 AM
Everyone shuffled into the conference room-Janet from Accounting with her stack of papers, Mark still muttering under his breath, Théo trying to make himself as small as possible in the corner, Demi already reaching for the snack bowl, El in the back trying to be invisible.
El had stopped to refill his thermos from the emergency stash in his desk drawer before the meeting.
Instant coffee, barely drinkable, but better than nothing.
He slipped in last, thermos in hand, and took his usual spot.
Demi whispered.
"You risked being late for COFFEE?"
El whispered back.
"You risked being late for CHIPS."
Demi looked at the snack bowl in front of him.
"...Fair point."
Mira stood at the front of the room, tablet in hand, her usual composed expression firmly in place.
Her blazer was charcoal gray today, her hair in that perfect severe bun, not a strand out of place.
Her eyes flicked toward them-then to El's thermos.
The tiniest smile.
"Nice to see you have your priorities, El."
El's eyebrow twitched.
He wasn't sure if that was a compliment.
"Before we start," Mira continued, "I want to introduce two new team members joining us for Project Horizon."
She gestured to a young man sitting near the window.
He was lean, sharp-featured, with dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
He wore a simple black button-up, no tie, and sat with the stillness of someone who was always watching, never relaxing.
A black coffee sat untouched before him-no cream, no sugar, probably cold already.
When Mira said his name, he nodded once. No smile. No warmth.
Nev Blackwood.
"Nev comes to us from the Lesive Association," Mira continued.
"He'll be observing and assisting with market analysis."
Demi leaned toward El, voice barely a whisper.
"Lesive? The rival company? Why is he HERE?"
El shrugged slightly.
Nev's eyes flicked toward them for just a second-then away.
Mira gestured to a young woman on the other side of the room.
She was the complete opposite of Nev-warm, open, beaming like she'd just won a prize.
Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and her eyes crinkled when she smiled, which was constantly.
In her hands, she clutched a large travel mug covered in optimistic stickers: "GOOD VIBES ONLY," "CAFFEINE AND KINDNESS," a little sun wearing sunglasses.
Hope Ashford.
"Hope is joining us as a junior marketing assistant," Mira said.
"Fresh out of university. Please make her feel welcome."
Hope practically bounced in her seat.
"Hi everyone! I'm so excited to be here! I've heard amazing things about Tate's marketing department! Also, whoever made the coffee in the break room-I have QUESTIONS."
A few people chuckled.
Mark did not.
Demi leaned to El again.
"She's like a puppy. A professional puppy."
Mark muttered under his breath.
"Junior assistant. Must be nice to start at the bottom instead of being STUCK here for years."
From the corner, Théo's voice squeaked.
"Welcome, Hope. I'm Théo. I'm also new. Well, not new-new, but still new. Kind of. We can be new together?"
Hope beamed at him. "YES! New friends!"
Théo looked like he might pass out from the kindness.
Mira continued outlining the Q3 project goals, deadlines, and expectations.
El listened with half an ear-something about sustainable paper products, eco-conscious businesses, market penetration strategies.
His mind was elsewhere.
But his eyes kept drifting to Nev.
To those sharp, unreadable eyes that seemed to be cataloging everyone in the room.
What are you really doing here?