Alexander's alarm goes off just as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. He slams his hand down onto the alarm and glares out at the world from underneath the blankets. With a sigh, he rises, knowing he couldn't afford to take a day off- he was too important to do so, even if it was tempting to stay in bed all day and catch up on some well-earned shuteye. He'd somehow managed three all-nighters this week, though it had resulted in making him borderline-nocturnal. It was well-worth it in the end, as his magnum opus was edging closer to omnipotence. So what if he lost a few hours of sleep in the process?

The entire process of getting ready passes in a blur as it always does, as he's too tired to remember any of the details. He was certain he'd forget the process altogether in the next hour and spend a good part of the day wondering if the morning had actually happened or been a vivid hallucination. He'd eventually deduce that it couldn't have been a hallucination because it was too boring and average.

But what does make this morning different is a reminder that strikes him while he is in the midst of making his coffee. There was a party tonight for work.

And he promised he'd go.

" Shit." Alexander mutters to himself, wide awake with the revelation. He'd almost dropped his mug.

He hated parties. Especially ones that were work-involved. Whenever he went, he always attracted a crowd of people who wanted to flirt with him. Not because they were interested in him, but rather, his money. He was a wealthy young man, and it had been so for a while now. And people knew. Everyone knew. He was practically a celebrity.

Speaking of, he had an interview coming up that he'd also forgotten about.

Oh, and…. looking at his wristwatch, he realized he was running late.

This day was off to a fantastic start, wasn't it?


He'd need a date for tonight. He was desperate. If he had a date this time, then maybe he'd be left alone. It might take any attention off of him and place it on his date, instead. Whoever that was, the poor, unfortunate soul.

It would have to be someone who definitely hadn't received an invite. Although everyone was supposed to, he knew that there were some who weren't very well-liked in the workplace. That narrowed down the list quite a bit. And he'd like someone who actually spoke to him and didn't just text him through Annet the entire time. He never thought he'd say this, but he needed a break from Annet, just for one night. It was absorbing every single aspect of his life, and he could get away for an hour or two, right? That narrowed down the list even further, because he knew that next to everyone used Annet for everything, and even he couldn't convince them to try otherwise. He just didn't want the typical glazed-over look he got from mostly everyone nowadays. It showed that they weren't interested in what he had to say, and he really wanted someone to at least pretend to care.

Even if it was only for one night.

His current standards, as low as they were, left him with very few options; all of them were unconnectable. That would certainly turn quite a few heads, wouldn't it?

And okay, maybe he wouldn't mind someone who didn't hate him and everything he stood for. Was that too much to ask? Even indifference was fine, he just wasn't looking to get murdered tonight if he so much as breathed the wrong way.

That narrowed the list down to…. One, really. A man by the name of Charles Snippy. Unconnectable. Pencil-pusher. And most definitely not invited to the party. People generally looked down upon him and tried to avoid him if they could, because, unconnectable. What other explanation did you need to alienate a person these days? People were generally wary of the unconnectables due to the terrorist organization threatening the peace. To most, it was better to avoid them altogether.

Well, that didn't matter in this predicament. He needed a date to this party. And if people knew that he was bringing an unconnectable, then it would scare quite a few away.

So that was that, then.


His days were often remarkably boring. To Charles Snippy, it felt like years had passed, when in reality, it had been a mere five minutes. It didn't help that he did the same things every day: paperwork, followed by a brief coffee break, followed by even more paperwork, then lunch, then- you guessed it- more paperwork. The monotony of it all drove him mad. There was nothing he could do to make it even remotely interesting, nothing to make the time flow quicker. Nothing at all. Just hope that nobody caught him sleeping on the job whenever he dared.

Today, though.

Today was… interesting.

It started out the same, and it really was the exact same for a few hours: same monotonous pace; same busywork; similar desire to die because even that was preferable to this.

But then someone from the higher-ups popped into his cubicle for a visit. Well, not quite. They dropped a paper onto his desk before scurrying off. They probably moved so quickly because they'd listened to all the rumors and were worried that if they got too close, they'd catch the "unconnectable disorder". Or they were worried he'd start talking to them, which was probably worse in their eyes because he was some sort of a loose cannon too, apparently; they were all probably waiting for him to start spouting off unconnectable terrorist propaganda. That sure seemed like it was what they expected him to do at this point...

Idiots. For people who prided themselves for knowing so much, they sure knew how to make themselves look stupid.

They probably didn't get out much.

He wasn't quick to read the paper. Didn't want the person thinking he actually cared about what they had to say. Just to be petty, he'd waited for them to be out of eyesight before reading it.

Which… there wasn't much to read. No more than two sentences: Meet me in my office when you get off your shift. It's important.

Signed Alexander Gromov. It was barely legible, but he knew the guy's signature when he saw it. Only he could sign something so sloppily.

Really now? If it was so important, but he hadn't had much to say in the note, then he should have just written an email. He was very much capable of reading those, contrary to popular belief.

Anyways… what was that all about? When you get off your shift? Why couldn't he have just gone now? Why the wait? He didn't get off for another couple hours, so why wait so long?

It's important? What was so important? Was he getting the promotion he'd been asking for for so long? Was the wait finally over?

Or was it about other things? Like the fact that he continuously insulted Annet in his reports in such a casual way? Was that really important enough to do all this? Was he going to be bitched out today? That wouldn't be surprising. To be honest, he'd been waiting for that for quite a while at this point. He knew it was coming, but he didn't know when. He'd prepared himself for the occasion, though.

Or was it worse? Did their pity finally wear out and they were going to let him go?

If that was the case, then…. He was screwed. Nobody else wanted to hire an unconnectable anymore. At this point, they were deemed basically useless by most of the population.

Well, if he was being let go, then he certainly wouldn't go down without a fight. He'd take advantage of the situation and give Alexander hell, let him know just how he felt about the other man and his treasured girl "Annie". Puh-lease.


After what has felt like centuries, his shift has ended and he is forced to face the inevitable. For once, he wishes his shift was longer. Not because he was scared of his boss, but rather, he just didn't want to see and have to speak with him. Speaking with Alexander, though he'd only had to do it once or twice, was the least desirable thing in the entire world and beyond. The man's voice made his paperwork seem interesting, and the way he'd talk about his creation was downright repugnant. He'd glorify his magnum opus to hell and back. He once forgot Charles was there at all and had begun waxing poetics about how lovely she was. All Charles could do was sit there and wait until he'd realized he had an audience and go back to talking to him about what he'd called him in there for in the first place- which, ironically enough, was how much Charles had complained about Annet and how he'd better watch his tongue or something of the sort. There was a point that Charles had reached where he'd learned to just let whatever Alexander said go in one ear and out the other without paying it any heed. It made the man more tolerable that way, so he supposed it was for the best.

He drags his feet on the way there and pretends that he doesn't know the way (which he totally did by this point, he'd been to the man's office a few times before after all). Whatever he can do to kill time at this point.

Finally, he's run out of ways to avoid the inevitable, and he is forced to face the music. Pausing in front of Alexander's office, he takes a breath and knocks on the door.

" Come in," Charles hears Alexander say from the other side of the door. He considers bolting for a second before steadying himself and entering Alexander's office.

A part of him is always so surprised by the size of the other man's office. Though it is to be expected, he is always so shocked by how large it is, especially compared to his own.

No wonder he's looked down upon.

" Take a seat." Alexander says, to which he obliges. The other man drums his fingers on his desk.

" So," Charles says, " what's this about?"

" Getting right to the point, are we now, Charles? And after you put this off for- what has it been, now- ten minutes?" Alexander looks at his watch as he says so, and gives Charles a look implying that he knew exactly why Charles was so late. It pissed him off.

" Yeah, whatever. What is this about?"

" Jeez, Charles, don't be so," Alexander chuckles, " snippy."

Was he trying to be especially irritating today? Because if so, he was doing a lovely job so far. He hadn't even been there for five minutes and already Charles was regretting not blowing Alexander off altogether.

" Anyways," Alexander clears his throat, " it's not work-related, which I'm sure is what you were thinking." Charles's shoulders practically sag with relief at that statement. " I'll just get to the point. There's a party tonight. For work. And I hate them. People are always coming up to me and pretending to enjoy my company. Which, I know they don't. I was wondering if you would be interested in going with me. Because if I was with you, then maybe people wouldn't…" Alexander trails off, reluctant to finish his sentence.

" Yeah. They wouldn't talk to you because you'd be with me, the useless unconnectable. I catch your drift, there's hardly any need for pussyfooting." Then, as an afterthought, he adds, " sir."

" Right." Alexander clears his throat. " So?"

" What's in it for me?" Charles asks.

" I don't know. Whatever you want, I guess. So long as it's reasonable."

" You know what I want."

" Oh. Right. That promotion." Alexander says, minor distaste coloring his tone.

" Precisely." Charles says.

" I suppose we could… negotiate further."

" Really? You're that desperate? I never thought I'd see the day where you'd even consider-"

" So it's a deal, then?" Alexander sticks his hand out to shake.

" I suppose it's a deal."

" I'll see you tonight, then." Alexander says as the two shake hands.


Howdy,

TBH this fic isn't new. In fact, I wrote this back in November. It was gonna be for a longer fic I planned on writing, but between loss of interest and college I doubt I'll ever get around to completing it. But I also felt bad for not publishing anything for almost a year! And I didn't want the entire fic to go to waste. So I'll publish the first few chapters, because it can be ended on a certain point. And who knows? Maybe I'll come back to it one day. For now, though, I'm leaving it open-ended and moving on. Sorry!

I've been running low on ideas lately, so hopefully this can buy me some time. Thanks, y'all!