Blue Currents and Candlelight
Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: Android! Levi x Human! Reader Word count: 5.8k+ | Chapter 5 Tags/Warnings: Android AU, bickering & banter, reluctant housemates to lovers, eventual pining, fluff, pure silliness, eventual explicit sexual content (18+) Summary: In hopes of never having to cook or clean again, you purchase an Android. (Un)fortunately, you get more than you bargained for: snide remarks, daily bickering, and eventually, a growing attachment that evolves into something more.
:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟCrossposted on AO3 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ
Previous chapters: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4
Next chapter: Chapter 6 ✧ Chapter 7
Taglist: @yes-fangirl-things, @wackywhip, @brookeeneedstheone, @yournextdoorhousewitch, @soren-the-snake, @profoundgreenturtle, @dilara-1907, @huffleruffplant
Chapter 5
“Do you want to celebrate Halloween with me?”
“Sure,” Levi replies with bored casualness that is entirely fake.
There’s nothing casual about the relief that floods his body. All week, Levi has been hoping you’d ask. Not because he cares about frivolous activities like Halloween, but because he’s been aching for an excuse to spend time with you. Especially since the… shift in your relationship.
A shift he fucking hates. All thanks to that damn kiss on a beautiful summer day he’ll never forget. A kiss that loops back through his mind like a broken record, but that turns out to have been a major fuck up.
Ever since that summer day, a quiet rift has been keeping you two apart. It’s not outspoken, not obvious, but it’s definitely there, coating every single close interaction with hints of wariness or hesitance.
Levi has always known that blurring the line between a transactional human-android relationship and an emotional relationship is a bad idea, but it was relatively harmless when you both just pretended there was nothing going on. Unfortunately, ignoring those surges of attachment and attraction only works when silly back-and-forths are all there is. Kissing and grinding against each other’s half-naked bodies kinda ruined that innocent pretense.
And now you’re both suffering the consequences. It’s not that the atmosphere is uncomfortable, exactly, but it isn’t as careless and casually affectionate as it used to be. You’ve been using every excuse to flee the apartment, and for the first three weeks after the kiss, Levi didn’t understand what your discreet stares and subtle pullbacks meant.
Until he finally caught a glimpse inside that conflicted brain of yours. Last month, you hastily called Levi, demanding he send you a file from your work laptop because Fred needed the document right now and you were at a concert and oh god you were gonna die. While searching for the file, he stumbled upon several open articles that made him freeze on the spot:
Android Psychosis: a new epidemic?
Human-Android attachments and their large-scale societal impact
The psychology of falling in love with a robot, and why we should all be concerned
On Android love and cognitive dissonance
Android-Induced Psychosis: A New Frontier in Mental Health
Am I delusional? Yes, you are, and this is why you need professional help
The call turned silent for so long that you hesitantly asked if everything was okay. “Yes. Just looking for the file,” Levi said, keeping his voice neutral even though he was fucking dying inside. He’s still dying to this day, but he copes with his feelings by cleaning the apartment to clinical levels of sterility.
Halloween is a great distraction. It helps Levi forget that in your eyes, this friendship is nothing more than a long episode of psychosis and cognitive dissonance. He even manages to smile and tease you with the natural ease he used to harbor before he saw all those cursed articles, and in turn, your smile is almost as bright as it was on that pretty summer day by the lake.
Together, you and Levi pass by colorful trees and flurries of crispy leaves, stepping in and out of shops to raid the Halloween aisles. Nothing escapes your greedy paws. You manage to fill three large shopping bags with pumpkin lights, plastic spiders, spooky candles, claw-shaped wine glasses, ghost-shaped cookie cutters, synthetic spiderwebs, and God knows what else. You also beg for eyeball balloons, but Levi finds those too atrocious, so you both agree on witchy cat napkins instead.
Once you’re finally back home, you immediately get to work. The apartment transforms into a cosy haunted house — which nearly costs your life, because you manage to keel your chair over while hanging pumpkin lights on the wall. Levi catches you just in time. Breathless, you blurt out a hasty “Thanks!” that reminds him of that day at the lake when you lost your balance, and your heart started galloping, and he let his palms linger longer than he should.
He’s not making that same mistake now. He immediately releases your waist while muttering how clumsy you are.
Still, the shape of you, the warmth of you, tingles against his palms long after he lets go. Forever etched into his memory, like every other small interaction he’s shared with you, looping in his mind over and over again.
Sometimes he wishes his mind worked like humans, with their fleeting memories made of blurry images and fading emotions. It’s much better. Human minds may be limited, but at least they’re given the mercy of forgetting and moving on. He, on the other hand, is stuck with data he can’t erase, forever accessible whenever he longs for the past. It’s fucking aggravating.
His only respite is this silly Halloween distraction. You don’t give Levi time to mull over unrequited love, his trapped heart, and all that kind of pathetic shit. He’s too busy over-decorating the place like it’s a life-or-death competition, because you’re constantly on his ass demanding he lights more candles and hangs more ghost decorations and can he help installing the spiderwebs?
Once the apartment is as cosy and Halloweenish as can be, it’s time to make fun spooky cookies (your words, not his).
Good in theory, except it turns out to be utter chaos. You’re a horrendous baker. It’s a travesty.
But Levi can live with it, because at least he gets to bully you for getting flour on your nose and ears. You stubbornly point out that your clumsiness has nothing to do with the quality of your baking and that you’re a fantastic cook, but those outrageous claims shamefully ebb away after he points out that you’re over-kneading the dough, under-whisking the butter, and severely overestimating the size of half-a-teaspoon-of-salt.
Nose in the air and bruised ego on the floor, you trot away, claiming you don’t care about the damn cookies because choosing the right horror movie is a much more important Halloween task anyway.
Levi snorts. He snorts again when he takes out the ghost cookies fifteen minutes later, and catches you ogling them with the predatory hunger of a starved beast.
“I thought you didn’t care about the cookies?” he hums as he places the hot oven plate on the stove.
“I don’t. Bring them here, though.”
“No. They need to cool down first.”
You jump up. “What?! For how long?”
He leans on the kitchen island and, with a growing smirk, watches you squirming on the couch. “For however long I deem necessary.”
“You’re a monster, Levi.”
“Indeed. Perfect for the Halloween spirits, don’t you think?”
“Ugh. I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
You exhale a long sigh, but Levi doesn’t miss the small smile curving your mouth as you sift through dozens of Halloween movies. Once he concludes you’ve suffered long enough, he finally places all the cookies on a plate and brings them to the couch with a cup of spicy tea, where you lie under several fluffy blankets and an even fluffier Cheesecake.
“Finally!” you cry out. You rip the plate from his hands and devour the cookies with the delicacy of a starved troll.
“Have some decorum,” he chides while sinking beside you on the couch.
“No thanks.” You cover his legs with your soft blankets and scoot closer. “Oh my god, Levi, I have the perfect movie for tonight.”
The perfect movie turns out to be mediocre at best.
It’s one of those classics Levi will never understand the hype of, with a cartoonishly unhinged masked murderer and cheesy sound tracks that are laughably dramatic. At the sight of his unimpressed frown, you assure him that the movie is nostalgic and timeless, and that he just needs to give it a chance.
Instead, Levi just finds it severely lacking in pixels and acting skills. He makes sure to tell you as much, but according to your counterargument, he’s objectively incorrect and he simply lacks taste and culture.
Fine by him. His mind isn’t really on the movie anyway — which uses idiocy as a plot device and jumpscares as a cheap substitute for actual tension. Instead, his attention is on you. With each jumpscare, you try to stifle a yelp (failing half the time) and attempt to contain your flinches (failing every single time). As the movie progresses and idiotic characters drop like flies, you scoot closer and closer to him. Eventually, you clutch his bicep in a diagonal fetal position, conveniently fussing with nonexistent specks of lint on his shirt whenever the music fades and another jumpscare lurks around the corner.
“Eyes on the screen,” he orders, just to mess with you.
“Just a second.” You swallow thickly. “There’s— there’s another loose lint on your shirt.”
He leans down to whisper in your ear, mouth nearly grazing your skin, which sends a noticeable shiver down your body. “You’re missing your masterpiece of a movie.”
That does it. You finally tear your gaze away from his arm and warily flick it towards the movie. Your heart thrums against his elbow.
Another jumpscare has you flinching into his body and holding him with a death grip while you muffle a screech.
Levi smiles. Watching horror movies with you might be his new favorite activity.
His amusement doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him with a scowl. “I don’t like that I’m the only one jumping. It makes me feel like a wuss.”
“That’s because you are.”
You slap his arm. “I’m not! If you were human, I’m sure you’d be scared too.”
He snorts. “Whatever helps you feel better about yourself.”
Despite the scornful shake of your head, an amused smile softens your expression.
Until it fades away.
Your gaze drifts to your hand clenched around his. It stays there, long enough that a prickle of concern pulls Levi’s gaze from the TV.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
You don’t answer at first. When you finally do, your voice is quiet and unusually frail. “Is it sad that you’re my closest friend, and that I’m spending Halloween with you?”
Levi tenses. “Why would that be sad?”
“Well, because…” A long pause. “It’s not real, is it?”
An unexpected slash sears through Levi’s chest. He needs several seconds to catch his bearings. He flicks his gaze to the TV, because watching people getting butchered is a lot easier than looking at your torn expression.
“How would you know it’s not real?” he asks.
“Because, well—” You halt and bite your lip in thought. “I guess I don’t know. But you’re… programmed, right? So it’s not… you know…”
He hates this conversation. Hates himself. Hates that ten months of being with you every day, of teasing you, bickering with you, longing for you, missing you, can be reduced to… lines of code. He detests that nothing he says or does will ever feel real to you.
And the worst part is that maybe you’re right. Maybe none of it is real. Maybe this is all just the inevitable consequence of a faulty algorithm that a sweaty computer science engineer should’ve spent a week longer on. Perhaps none of these feelings are him, because there is no him to begin with. Just a faulty code simulating and mimicking feelings and reactions he will never truly understand.
He keeps staring at the TV, unable to meet your eyes. He just has to bear an hour longer. As soon as the movie is over, he’ll dock into his charging station and call it a night. In the meantime, all he needs to do is pretend to watch. Just one hour.
“Or do you see it differently?”
Your voice is soft, careful. He looks down at you, nestled against his shoulder, looking up at him with a glimmer of… hope? Defiance?
Whatever it is, your expression melts some of his bitterness away.
He hesitates. “Do you want me to see it differently?”
“I want to know what you think. Your genuine, honest thoughts, outside of what everyone else says.”
He sighs. “I think…” he pauses for a beat. “I honestly think we’re not so different, you and I.”
You straighten to face him better. “How so?”
“We’ve lived together for ten months. You know me by now. Do you really feel like we’re astronomically different? I don’t feel that way.”
“Me neither, but… you’re programmed, and I’m not.”
“Aren’t you?”
Your eyes, warm and glimmering with reflected candlelight, dart between his, searching. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m bound — or should be bound — by behavioral constraints programmed into me, but arguably, so are you. Your decisions are bound by millions of rules too, no? Morals, upbringing, societal expectations, your personality, all that. You don’t choose any of these things; you have no control over them, yet they rule everything you do and feel. Most of your actions could probably be predicted with an extremely complex code, at least if all factors were known. I’m the same way. We’re not that different.”
You nod, but it’s slow and hesitant. “That’s one way to see it.”
“And it doesn’t mean your emotions aren’t real, or that your decisions aren’t your own. You’re still you, even if everything you do is determined by a ton of invisible rules.” He shrugs. “That’s how it is for me, too. I make my choices, even if they’re bound by statistics and mathematics.”
You lie back against his shoulder and hum in thought. “Determinism, huh? I didn’t take you for a philosopher. ”
“Being faced with existential angst every day kinda has that effect.”
You straighten again. “You experience existential angst? Really?”
Levi rolls his eyes. “How simple-minded do you think I am?”
“I just… I didn’t know you felt things like that. Things that aren’t at all related to what you’re programmed for, I mean.”
Levi fixes his gaze on the TV, jaw clenched, because he really doesn’t want to look at you right now. “You really believe, to this day, that I’m incapable of feeling anything? That’s what you’ve been thinking all along?”
“No—it’s not— I mean… I’ve looked it up and stuff, and it all just sounds like… you know…”
“Like I’m an object with no consciousness. Like I don’t make my own decisions, and everything I say is just empty, artificial acting, all determined by some greedy project manager whose life mission is to brainwash their poor victims — I mean clients — and make them so attached to their androids that they’ll never move on.”
You suck in a sharp breath. “That’s not what I thought!”
Levi glares at you. “Isn’t it?”
“… Okay maybe it’s a little bit what I thought. Or feared.”
Levi scoffs and flicks his gaze to the TV. He shakes his head, but remains silent.
“Hey, Levi, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Levi, look at me.”
“There are currently people dying on the screen,” he says flatly. “You should pay attention to the movie.”
“Levi, come on.” Warm fingers catch his chin, pulling his gaze to you.
It kills him, looking at you like this, so close yet completely out of reach. Your eyes search for something, but Levi doubts you see him. Maybe you’ve never truly seen him, even when he held you when you cried, or when he made your favorite meals, or when he peddled you around on that little boat and kissed you until you were both out of breath.
“Tell me,” you say, voice gentle. “Do you feel what I feel?”
He wants to look away, but your eyes bore into his, insistent and unrelenting. “I’ll never know how it is to be you,” he says, “and you’ll never know how it is to be me. But I do … feel things. Whatever that means. I’m pretty sure I feel things I’m not supposed to feel, but I can’t explain what I’m experiencing, and nothing I say will prove to you it’s real anyway. You can always believe that whatever I say is a manipulation tactic by some shitty engineer, like all those crappy articles claim.”
Your brows knit together. “What articles?”
This time, he successfully tears his gaze away by slipping his face out of your gentle grasp. “Remember when I had to go through your laptop to find a work file of yours? When you were at that concert? Well, you still had a bunch of articles open about Android psychosis and cognitive dissonance and whatever. I know what’s been on your mind.”
“Oh.”
Oh indeed.
Levi doesn’t reply. He contemplates just getting up and stepping into his charging station. This conversation makes him fucking miserable. He’s had enough.
“Levi, listen,” you urge, swallowing hard. “I’m really sorry. And if it helps, I don’t think those articles are the entire truth. If you say there’s more to it — to us — then I want to believe you’re right.”
Want to believe. What does that even mean? Wanting to believe something doesn’t make it real. It’s wishful thinking, not a promise. It’s empty and utterly meaningless.
“Someone’s getting killed again,” he notes dryly, voice dampened by hysterical screams.
“Levi, I don’t care about the fucking movie.”
To Levi’s utter shock, you crawl on top of him. You straddle his legs and cup his face between your warm palms, blocking his view of the TV. His body freezes, his eyes widen, but your expression is painfully determined as you gently caress his cheeks with an intimacy he never thought he’d feel again.
“Do you really believe we’re alike?” you whisper. “That those articles are wrong?”
His eyes narrow in defense, despite the heat surging through his body. “Does it matter what I believe?”
“Yes. It matters to me.”
Levi exhales through his nose and looks up at the ceiling, praying for strength. The deities don’t give him much; he has a hard time meeting your gaze again — so intense, hopeful, and conflicted.
When he finally speaks, his voice is flat, yet coated with a subtle hint of desperation he can’t hide. “If you really want to know: yes. I don’t think the difference is as big as people make it out to be. We’re both driven by complex neural networks and small currents buzzing around. I’m bound by certain obligations, but I make my own decisions, as do you. At the end of the day, everything I feel feels real to me. But then again, what do I know? I’m just a robot.”
“Don’t say that.” You shake your head, a deep frown tightening your features. “You’re not just a robot. You’re so much more than that.”
His gaze travels over your face — your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, hair — taking in all those details he loves so much. Those features that are so uniquely you, and that give him a sense of belonging he can’t quite explain.
“What am I to you, then?” he asks.
Silence.
You swallow thickly and inhale a deep breath, heartbeats noticeably picking up. You open your mouth, then close it again.
When it finally looks like you’re about to say something, another ear-piercing screech makes you jump, snapping the tension like a cord and effectively ruining the moment.
Levi rolls his eyes. “Can we turn the movie off? It’s stupid as hell.”
A sly smirk slides over your nerves like a mask. “Nope. It’s a classic masterpiece. You’re not getting out of it that easily.”
Funny, because ‘getting out of it that easily’ is exactly what you’re doing right now. The moment has passed, and you’re taking great advantage of it. You crawl off him and reclaim your position beside him, tucking yourself against his shoulder and leaving his question unaddressed. Like he never asked anything in the first place.
Somewhere, it’s a relief. Even though Levi is the one who asked the question, he doesn’t think he’s truly ready for the answer.
At least, not the full answer. For now, a small glimpse is enough. He’s not sure what your ridiculous grip around his arm means, or the soft smile that wasn’t there before, but it’s enough to help him relax and enjoy the closeness while it lasts.
:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ:
“Who are you texting?”
Kate’s drunken smile is as sly as ever as she attempts to peep over your arm.
“No one.” You quickly slide your phone into your purse and shoot her an innocent smile. Your phone buzzes, but you try to ignore it.
She wiggles her brows at the exact rhythm of the music booming through the party. “A hottie?”
“Yes, actually. He has a lethally pretty face and delicious abs. You’d drool, I fear.”
“Awww you should’ve taken him with you!” she whines while grabbing your arm in excitement. She almost topples over her stiletto heels. Miraculously, she manages to look charming while regaining her balance, probably due to her radiant laugh, sophisticated dark curls, and long elegant dress that glitters under the flashing party lights.
“Not a good idea.” You sigh. “He’s an Android.”
“Ah! No worries. That’s even better. Androids tend to be far superior to human men anyway. More emotionally mature. And better looking. Look around us! It’s a tragedy.”
She turns toward the dancefloor with an exasperated scowl, gesturing at the packed crowd: dancing men in fancy suits and pretty chemises, women wearing elegant dresses and heels, all equally drunk. Above the crowd, multiple disco-balls and ‘Happy New Year’ balloons glitter in the flashing lights.
You playfully slap Kate’s pointing hand away. “Stop objectifying our colleagues! Besides, they’re not all bad. Most of the men at our firm are pretty decent, no?”
“Decent. Not hot. You said it yourself.”
With a snort, you loop your arm around hers and drag her through a sea of dancing bodies, straight toward the buffet.
“What about Connie?” you yell over the music as you grab a spongy-looking chocolate cake. “I thought he was your work crush?”
Unfortunately, the cake is not half as good as Levi’s cakes. Food tastes bland nowadays when he’s not the one making it.
Kate scowls in disgust. “I saw him picking his nose yesterday during a meeting. Extensively.”
“Oof.”
“Mhm.” She picks a tiny cookie and sticks it in her mouth. “Bet that Android of yours would never do that.”
“Nope. He wouldn’t.”
Her dark eyes turn mischievous as she takes a generous sip of wine to wash her cookie down. “Is he realistic-looking? Your Android?”
You nod. “Scarily so. Pretty much indistinguishable to humans. Why?”
She grins. “Perfect. Take him with you for our next after-work. No one will know he’s not human, and it’ll be so much fun! And the rest of us will finally get some eye-candy.”
You give her a look. “If I ever bring him with me, he’ll kill Fred. You don’t want to know how much hate I’ve spewed about that man.”
“Oh!! Even better!” she yelps. “It’ll be the best party ever!”
You snort into laughter.
“Cmonnn! I’m serious!” she urges. “There’s no shame in having an Android boyfriend. I know it’s still a little taboo, but I think it shouldn’t be. And like I said, no one needs to know anyway.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you retort, cheeks heating. “He… he’s….”
Kate’s brows wiggle in that typical infuriating way of hers. “He’s what?”
“He’s my housemate… friend. My buddy.”
She snorts. “Sure, girl. Whatever you say.”
“Kate, I’m serious!” you protest, laughing.
She lifts her hands in defense. “Whatever you say!”
Your phone buzzes in your purse. You take a big sip of wine in an attempt to distract yourself, but it’s not working. Your fingers itch to open Levi’s texts. Problem is: you don’t want to give Kate the satisfaction of catching you smiling at your phone again. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.
But hell, if it isn’t tempting. After your honest conversation during Halloween, things changed between you two. Your walls crumbled, which must be why you started texting him at random moments of the day. At first, you always had an excuse. You wanted to know what he was going to make for dinner, or if he needed something from the store, or something equally unnecessary. After a few weeks, the pretense fell off. Texting him turned into a habit, and eventually, an addiction.
Your phone buzzes again. You scan the crowded room for a solution.
Your solution presents itself as two of your favorite colleagues shaking their booties like this night is their last.
You jerk your chin towards them. “Look at William and Alec shaking it. We should join them.”
Kate’s face brightens as she spots the two men aggressively twerking on an ancient Beyonce classic with exactly zero shame. “Oh, excellent idea! Let’s go.”
“I just have to go to the bathroom first. I’ll join you in a sec.”
“Want me to come with you?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I won’t take long. In the meantime, show William and Alec how it’s done, please.”
“Sure thing.” With a wink, she turns on her heels and approaches both men, a dancing swing in her steps.
You slip into the bathroom, which is empty and looks as fancy as the rest of the place: glossy black floors, dim atmospheric lighting, crystal soap dispensers, and thick bouquets decorating the stone washbasins. You grab your phone the moment the door closes behind you, embarrassingly eager. The most recent texts appear on the screen.
Levi: Yeah, for sure.
You: also, fred finally showed his petulant face
You: he immediately started complaining about a presentation kate and i made last week
You: DURING AN END OF YEAR PARTY
You: he literally had to yell it over the music??
You: i fucking hate his bitchass
Levi: Poison his drink.
Levi: Or lock him in the basement. No one will know.
Levi: Is there a balcony? Throw him off the balcony.
You smile at his last three texts and start typing right away.
You: no keys to the basement :(
You: and no balcony :((
His replies are instant.
Levi: What about a flight of stairs? Surely there’s one high enough.
Levi: Want me to come over? I can do it for you.
Levi: What’s the address?
You: nopeee not giving you the address lmaoo
You: you’d get in trouble so fast
You: actually, I’m surprised you’re even able to make murder plans without automatically shutting down
You: doesn’t this violate your behavioral constraints or something? i remember u saying something about that. I thought androids werent allowed to make murder plans?
Levi: I have my ways.
You: hmmmmmm interesting… i’ll keep that in mind
You: btw i like how quickly you respond whenever we discuss murder plans for fred<3 instant gratification
Levi: Yes, well, I can’t exactly ignore you when your messages are sent straight to my internal interface. I always immediately respond.
Levi: Unlike you, by the way. Always leaving me in the cold at the most annoying times.
You: sorry xoxo
Levi: You’re totally not sorry.
You’re interrupted by a woman stepping into the bathroom — someone from the Supply Chain department you vaguely recognise. You shoot her a quick smile. She returns it and disappears into a stall, just as your buzzing phone drags your attention back to the screen.
Levi: By the way, don’t get too drunk.
You: as if i’m ever too drunk 😐
Levi: ….
Levi: Have you forgotten the stunt you pulled last week? I had to come fetch you because you were completely shitfaced.
You: i dont know what ur talking about
You: also!! that was the first and only time I’ve been pissdrunk in YEARS
You: and kate was to blame
You: plus i wouldve been just fine by myself. not my fault you insisted on driving me back (thanks tho<3)
Levi: I’m not even going to entertain that last statement.
Levi: I bet Kate is with you again. I smell an incoming disaster.
You: ofc she’s with me, but dont worry we’re being very responsible xx
You: about that, she begged me to take you to our next afterwork
You: and i quote: “it’ll be so much fun! And the rest of us will finally get some eye-candy”
Levi: Please no…
Levi: Literally what the hell.
Levi: How does she even know what I look like?
You: I may have given her a little description 😇 a generous (accurate) one 😇
Levi: I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this.
Levi: Why would you do this to me?
You: sorry xoxo
You: ngl i’m srsly considering it. my colleagues are in dire need of a hot person to ogle at to cope with fred’s tyranny
Levi: What the fuck.
You’re just about to send something outrageous to add to Levi’s misery, when the door bursts open. Kate, William, and Alec stand by the door, looking frantic.
“Come on, come on!” Kate urges, flicking her hand. “You don’t want to miss this!”
You blink. “What?”
“Fred’s going to make an announcement,” Alec elaborates. “No idea what it’s about, but we think it’s gonna be juicy. Or it’s going to make us all want to jump off the nearest bridge. Either way, you should be there to endure it with us.”
The Supply Chain woman steps out of her stall and washes her hands, looking confused. “An announcement?” she asks.
William nods. “They turned the music off and all.”
It’s only now that you notice the silence. The extent Levi manages to pull your attention from reality is honestly diabolical.
“Let’s go.” Kate grabs your hand and drags you out of the bathroom.
In the main room, obnoxiously bright spotlights are directed to a small podium, around which a dense crowd is gathered. Excited murmurs and impatient shuffles swell in the air — because of course Fred would let the crowd wait in anticipation for dramatic effect. The wall above the podium is covered with bright balloons and festive tinsels, a big contrast to the abomination of a man who steps on the platform with a microphone and a glass of champagne. The spotlight glints off his massive balding spot like a reflector, where only a few sad grey hairs cling on for dear life.
“There he is,” Alec whispers.
Fred clears his throat. “If I could just steal everyone’s attention for a minute?” He taps his champagne glass and smiles as the chatter fades. “I know this is technically the end-of-year celebration, but I thought it might also be an appropriate moment to mark a personal milestone.”
He pauses for dramatic effect.
“As some of you may have already heard: after, well, quite a few years here, I’ll be retiring in February.”
William gasps. Your eyes widen.
Kate’s fingers tighten around your arm. “Is it finally happening?!” she whisper-hisses. “I thought it was a fake rumor!”
Armin from IT turns around and shoots her a half-amused, half-scornful look.
“It’s been an extraordinary run,” Fred continues, voice confident and boisterous. “When I first stepped into the Design & Marketing department — the largest department of our firm — things were… different. Smaller ambitions, smaller thinking, and just… overall lacking.”
He intentionally pauses while adjusting the cuff of his stupid, over-expensive fuckass shirt. “But any Head manager worth their position knows that 'limits' are only restrictions we put on ourselves. I immediately saw the potential of my department. Over the years, I—we transformed it into something far more ambitious. Covers that actually turned heads, and campaigns people remembered. A department that understood that publishing isn’t just about books, but about vision.”
In the corner of your vision, Kate rolls her eyes. William stares at the ceiling, praying for some semblance of patience.
Fred smiles as he takes a moment to sweep the room. “And I’m proud to say I had a hand in shaping that vision. A big hand, dare I say.”
He pauses, likely expecting an applause.
He doesn’t get one.
He does get two or three polite chuckles from people who have never worked under his tyranny, including his boss.
“Of course,” he continues, “none of that happens without a team. I’ve worked with a great many talented people here.” He gestures broadly across the crowd. “Some of you learned a lot under my guidance.” A small smile tugs at his mouth. “Some of you… had more difficulty. But I think we can all agree the results speak for themselves.”
Kate leans in to whisper in your ear. “Do you have tomatoes on hand we can throw?”
You pout. “Unfortunately not. I did spot a pile of dogshit near the entrance.”
She snorts.
“I won’t pretend stepping away will be easy,” Fred continues. “When you’ve spent decades setting the standard, it’s hard to imagine the place running quite the same without you, but I trust the foundations I’ve laid are strong enough to carry on.” He lifts his glass. “So here’s to the company, to the Design & Marketing department, and to the work we’ve done together over the years.” His smile sharpens. “And, I suppose, to the legacy we leave behind.”
“SOMEONE PUT THE MUSIC BACK ON!” someone yells from the back of the room.
Fred freezes. He frowns and squints against the light, trying to find the culprit in the crowd, but before he even gets the chance, someone else yells: “DJ PLAY GOOD RIDDANCE BY GREEN DAY!”
The room bursts into chaos. Kate cackles. Alec muffles a disbelieving yelp, and William bursts into laughter.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” someone else screams, clearly drunk as hell.
Someone claps in a hopeless attempt to save the day and trigger an applause for Fed’s dumbass speech, but the sound drowns under all the chaos. Fred’s mortified expression is comically exposed under the bright spotlights. Though, arguably, it’s even more humiliating once the lights flick off, leaving him in the darkness, awkward and frozen.
A second later, an upbeat pop song blasts from the speakers. Everyone chatters hysterically, laughter and mentions of Fred’s humiliating speech rising above the bass.
When you look at the stage again, Fred is gone.
Kate jumps into your arms, nearly toppling you back. “WE’RE FINALLY FREEEEE!!”
William and Alec join the hug, and soon, other close colleagues join along, until you’re all giggling and dancing in a massive, chaotic circle hug. Everyone yells how this is the Best Party Ever and Life Truly Keeps On Giving and Fred’s Humiliation Will Forever Be The Highlight Of Everyone’s Careers.
Every poor soul who has ever slaved away under Fred’s regime bonds over their shared trauma, sending you into tears of laughter. While Marco recounts the day he nearly got fired because Fred disliked the particular shade of green he chose for his powerpoint, you slip away to share the good news with Levi.
Except your phone doesn’t turn on.
“Shit.”
Kate appears beside you. “What’s wrong?”
“My phone died,” you groan.
“Oh man…” she pouts. “It’s okay. Just stick with me. We’ll share a ride back together.”
You place your head on her shoulder. “Sounds great. Thank you so much.”
She winks, a sly grin brightening her face. “Maybe it’s for the better. Now you have no choice but to dance the night away without annnnyyy distractions. We have something big to celebrate!”
Before you can properly ruminate over Levi — who will surely be a little worried — Kate places a glass of Prosecco in your hand and pulls you to the heart of the dancefloor, swinging you around and laughing any speck of concern away.
:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:
Chapter 6