Miles needs to learn to juggle work and having a girlfriend who can be very, VERY distracting. It complicates his life but he's happy for everything Cecily brings him, which so far has been nothing but unfiltered happiness.
PART VI - WORKING HARD
Miles struts into the office, his head held high. He's caffeinated, his belly is full of breakfast, and he has gotten enough work done that he can comfortably give a presentation on his next game concept.
His department resides on the fourth floor. He likes that it's in a corporate space but has a more eclectic vibe going on in the interior. There are colors popping from every direction, lights from the arcade machines, the vending machine, and installed neon lights.
The artistic rugs and colorful ideas pinned on a large department-wide inspiration board only add to the cozy aesthetic.
He may have been an introvert at heart but he did his best to make the office feel like a home away from home.
Especially during projects which required long hours.
First order of business: Find Phil.
"Hey," Miles raps his knuckles on the glass separator of the cubicle containing a drafting board, "What are you working on right now?"
She scratches out a line in her blue pencil and doesn't look up, "2-D Environments for Super Llama World."
Miles had heard of the proposal. It was one of several projects in the department's pipeline.
He sets down his case and steps into the cubical with a budding interest to look over her shoulder.
Dang, whatever she was drawing up was pretty cool.
He hoped he had a chance to play Super Llama World whenever it hit QA.
Ugh...in like, in two years.
He shakes his head because he can't be getting caught up with other games while he has his own to develop. "Can you do some finishing touches on these concepts I drafted over the weekend? Make them pretty for my presentation?"
She turns around with an exasperated look, "You got distracted by that new girlfriend of yours again?"
Miles can only grin sheepishly, thinking back to earlier that morning in the kitchen, "Please? Do me this favor, Phil, and I'll buy you lunch."
She holds out a hand and he quickly fumbles open his case to hand her his papers.
She makes a thoughtful grunt, then lays them out and begins to work on cleaning the rough sketches, "Good luck on your presentation."
He crosses his arms and frowns, not understanding her comment "Thanks...but what do you mean by that? Aren't you coming to it?"
"Nah, it's not on my meetings calendar. I think you are getting assigned a different concept artist for this project."
Philomena Fox has worked on the last two video game projects for Miles as a principal concept artist.
This is certainly an unseen change and Miles isn't sure he is okay with it.
Phil shoos him off, citing that she must have no more distractions if he wants those slides done in time for his meeting.
While others are working, he spots another co-worker, Willis, lounging in front of the flatscreen and playing SSX.
"You're still coming to my presentation, right?" Miles asks. Willis has always been the programmer on their projects. Miles doesn't know what he'll do if half his regular team is taken away from him.
Willis nods in the affirmative, "Yeah, you better have something good to present. I know how you procrastinate, man."
Miles scoffs, he isn't that bad—he finds his best ideas come at the 11th hour under pressure.
Carbon turns to Diamonds.
Miles's ideas turn into indie darlings.
"Don't worry, I have something good. I just hope that you can program it," he verbally barbs Willis in return.
Willis stands up and hitches an eyebrow, seeming to feel challenged. Good. The more challenged Willis feels, the harder he works on programming.
He holds out the controller to Miles, "Wanna play?"
"Stop trying to beat me in SSX, it's not happening," Miles smirks, "Besides I have to get ready for my presentation."
Willis sets the controller down since he's done playing around and nods over toward the cubicles, "by the way, both the newbies are coming to the presentation too."
Cecily is buzzing with excitement, about to solve a mystery that's been at the back of her mind since last week.
She's packed the Isla Del Kashmire soil Sample into a bottle.
She probably could have gotten away with gathering less but the farmer didn't mind!
"Hey Drey!" she bursts into the cross-pollination lab on the second floor while holding her sample.
A young man in a lab jacket narrows his eyes suspiciously from where he's been taking notes on several different composts as she beelines for the machine encased in the glass room.
"Whoa there! What are you doing?"
"I found this soil and I wanted to run it through the machine to get a reading on its components."
"Are you trying to test unauthorized soil again? You know what happened last time!" Drey frowns and blocks her path.
Okay, it wasn't THAT bad. She just wasted precious resources on a dud sample that had to get thrown out in the end.
But that was the nature of science! Experiments! Nothing was concrete until it was verified and peer-reviewed, and she had peer-reviewed the reading on this particular soil and determined something was off about it.
The truth was the most important thing in any endeavor!
Drey scoops a compost sample and takes it into the glass room. Cecily follows with a pleading cadence in her voice, "Come on Drey, this soil came through the identification lab with all the micronutrients you could ask for but was labeled sub-par! Maybe your machine is losing its mind."
"Machines don't have minds. They don't make errors either. If anything, you made a human error on your end," she can tell he's annoyed. She might have come into the lab one too many times having Drey run tests on soils that weren't submitted through the official channels.
"Prove me wrong then."
He can't miss the opportunity to do that.
With a groan of inconvenience, he takes her bottle and extracts a few grams to place in the machine's research vials, instead of using the compost soil he was intending to.
The machine whirs and starts up to begin analyzing the soil components.
Cecily watches eagerly, Drey only frowns and stares intently at the screen as it builds a 3-D model of a molecule.
"Holy shit," Drey says after a moment.
Cecily is taken aback as over 1000 points of micronutrients are listed across the screen.
There is a brief label of text that flashes 'Ideal' across the top of the screen but then just as quickly disappears.
The machine *beeps*, halts its whirring, and prints out the analysis—stating again, the soil is subpar.
What the frack does that mean?
"How can you explain that this soil is concluded as sub-par when it showed all those components?" Cecily demands as Drey removes the samples.
"I don't...I don't know..." he seems at a loss, bemused. Obviously, he didn't run the original sample.
Cecily reaches out to grab a tube but Drey stops her and tells her not to touch any of it until he gets to the bottom of this.
The machine was never wrong.
Until now.
The Department Director lays out some of the concepts and processes they go through for these types of meetings so the newbies are aware.
Miles, as the lead video game designer on the project, is responsible for the vision, writing, and communication to his team.
The two co-workers are new hires and have been in the department for about two months, this will be their first project with the company since onboarding.
"I'll let Mr. Piper take it from here," the director smiles and steps aside.
"All right, so farming simulations are proving to be the new trend in gaming. People don't have many chances to get out to real farms or grow their own crops and find the action of growing to be relaxing."
Miles continues, sliding his presentation picture to a concept of a 2-D render of an open-world environment, "We have data that shows people spend triple the number of hours on farming simulations more than puzzles and shooter genres combined in the last five years. I propose we take the farming sim and combine it with an open-world RPG."
He switches the slide and the director moves around to get a better look.
"There could be several different seeds and soils for the player to collect to create the ideal farm and grow the ideal crops. We could implement a recipe system as well as a combat system. For example, some enemies the player encounters could have rare seed drops or monster parts that create more unique composts."
Miles takes a breath. He feels so much more comfortable and confident speaking to strangers about this than his own father.
To be honest, Miles had gotten this idea from his discussions with Cecily. Seeing her so passionate about soil and plants inspired him—in a way, maybe he was trying to make this game for her.
He points out the different stages of some examples of crops growing and what their ideal soil type is. He wasn't a professional soil identifier like Cecily, so he probably doesn't have a lot of the 'soil components' based on reality.
The newbies don't seem very impressed or inspired.
"In conclusion, I'm titling this project 'Farming Adventures' until Marketing thinks of something better. It's an RPG adventure and farming simulator," Miles finishes off after going through all the different systems and how they can implement levels, even an idea to sell content to create longevity in playership after its launch and initial interest wanes.
"Any questions?" he asks.
One of the newbies raises her hand and frowns, "Um yeah...how will this be interesting to anyone?"
Miles can't help but facepalm.
"Miss Thustra, that isn't very constructive," the department Director gently chides her, "It isn't your job to question the marketability, if you have any questions about the art direction or concepts, I'm sure Mr. Piper will be happy to speak to that."
Cecily takes her lunch in the facility's break room. She has a stash of microwave lunches in the communal refrigerator for these instances. She could barely focus on the assigned soil samples handed up to her to identify after that morning's discovery. The soil she had gathered from the farm was for all intents and purposes, perfect.
She discusses some other soil findings with her co-worker in the lab until Tyler Livingston enters, smelling like dirt and chlorophyll—not a bad scent all things considered.
"Hey ladies," he smiles and hovers nearby after washing up at the sink, "What's for lunch?"
"You're in violation of the facility's dress code," Shoko states, not baited by the attempt at flirting. It's true, Livingston harmlessly flirts around, and also true that he lacks the lab coat and business casual duds the rest of them are wearing.
Livingston twists his face up in offense, "Aw c'mon Shoko you'd be singing a different tune if you were up in the ecology test garden all day doing physical labor. It's too hot for the stuffy shirts and coats."
"I don't make the rules," she responds, with not an ounce of sympathy.
To be fair, Shoko is kind of an insufferable coworker. Cecily tries to avoid small talk as much as possible with her.
"Cut him some slack," another co-worker pipes up.
Cecily is fairly fond of Tyler. He does good work and loves plants just as much as her if not more so; they always geek out about the plants in the restricted section of the test garden when they get the chance.
"Just let it go, Shoko—he's doing his work and that's all that matters," Cecily finds herself defending him.
"What's the point of a company handbook if it's not even followed?"
Before there can be any kind of escalation on the subject of dress code between the co-workers, they hear a *ding* and the lab supervisor steps off the elevator—presumedly coming down to take his lunch break as well. He has heard their raised voices though.
"Hey folks, what's going on down here?"
"Tyler is in violation of the dress code," Shoko tattles immediately.
The supervisor looks over Livingston's rolled-up jeans and plain, casual t-shirt with consideration.
Cecily wonders if Drey has told the supervisor about her soil and if he did, she hopes she's not going to get in trouble for trying to test an unauthorized sample again.
She avoids eye contact so as not to arouse suspicion.
"I think it's safe to say that it's best if Tyler is comfortable doing his job. What he's wearing isn't inappropriate for the work he's doing," the supervisor explains.
"But sir—"
"Now Shoko, if you would like to change departments and try planting everything in the greenhouse wearing what you are now, you are more than welcome to."
Shoko works in the soil identification lab with Cecily. It is nice and air-conditioned.
Livingston makes a smirk of triumph and Shoko frowns but keeps her mouth shut. She finally stands from the table and leaves them.
Cecily understands the reasons for rules but also has enough common sense to know when they aren't fair or shouldn't apply. She has enough experience sneaking soil samples to Drey to know that bending the rules is tolerated at the facility if the outcome is worth it.
"Livingston, let's meet up on the roof. I have something to show you," Cecily mumble-whispers so only he can hear her. It catches his attention and he raises a brow with a nod.
After lunch, Cecily makes her way to the roof.
The roof of the facility is a place for soil quality control and organic growth. There are a few raised gardening plots, each filled with different soils but harboring the exact same plants—that way the lab can determine which of the soils renders the best plant growth.
Cecily loves being on the roof, it has great views of the city and mountain range beyond; she enjoys seeing what plants are growing best, but doesn't get to come up here often.
She finds Livingston standing against the edge and looking into the distance.
As she goes to stand next to him, the clouds start spitting out rain, not surprising for Memosa Bay. It's a rather temperate, wet area. She doesn't mind the rain at all.
"Do you really have something to show me or is this your way of confessing you have been in love with me since you met me?" he teases her. She rolls her eyes—he is such a pain sometimes.
"No, I have something I want you to see," she opens her lab jacket and his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in surprise, probably taken aback and thinking she was about to do something that would get HR called on them.
She just frowns and belts out a menacing laugh before showing him a vial of the soil sample from that morning.
She swiped it when Drey wasn't looking.
Bending the rules.
Drey wasn't her supervisor, so she had no need to heed his directions.
"I took your advice and got another soil sample. It's incredible! It has over 1000 vital macronutrients! The analyzer still marked it sub-par though."
"I've never seen a reading with over 1000 components."
"Neither have I! I want you to take this and see if you can find out anything else about it."
He looks only a bit hesitant but he has the same fire behind his eyes that Cecily felt about it.
He was curious and she had counted on it.
Miles was still heated from his presentation and the audacity of his new concept artist suggesting his game idea wasn't interesting. He had decided to try and cool off by going to lunch with Willis and Phil. He owed Phil lunch anyway for her work on his concepts.
They were the seniors of the department in their respective roles and had been working together for at least eight years at their current job.
"I don't know where she gets off asking 'how will this be interesting to anyone' during a presentation," Miles fumes while they wait to be seated at a popular brunch spot along the bay. "Her personal feelings about the content don't negate the research. 'Anyone' is in the demographics."
Willis and Phil give each other amused looks and it only exacerbates Miles's annoyance.
"What?"
"You are so hangry right now," Willis finally says.
Miles blinks, he is pretty hungry—having gotten worked up over the presentation and also must have also worked up an appetite.
But they are kidding themselves if they think a sandwich is going to smooth his frustration over.
He shuts up about it though because they have an unspoken rule not to talk about work when they are out at lunch. It's an overall break from everything work-related.
He wonders what Cecily is doing right now. Is she enjoying her lunch? Does she eat out with co-workers or alone? Does she bring her lunch? He made a mental note to find out these things about her because just doesn't know and how could he?
"The server didn't bring me a water," Willis pouts.
"Well you asked for a soda right off so maybe they didn't bother," Phil rationalizes. She is good at that.
Miles is still bitter that Phil got reassigned projects and won't be able to work on his new one. If she had any concerns she wouldn't have just spit them out with no tact in front of everyone like the newbie had.
They get their food and Miles continues to contemplate.
He wonders what he should make for dinner? He looks down at his shrimp platter, realizing he doesn't know if Cecily has any food allergies—just another thing he needs to find out.
He has this primal urge to just want to know everything about her! At least thinking about her removes the frustration he has been feeling, gnawing at his stomach since the end of the presentation.
"Earth to Miles!" he hears Phil say and wave her hand in front of his face. He finally acknowledges her with a slow, puzzled, blink, and she laughs, "Wow you must be thinking really hard about something."
He gains a sheepish look and it seems she already knows, "So are you gonna tell us more about this girlfriend that keeps distracting you?"
He would love to, but he has more to learn himself.
"She really loves plants," Miles says, he doesn't think he mentioned it before. He didn't realize just how much Cecily loved plants until she referred to one of his fake houseplants by its scientific name yesterday night.
"She gardens? That's cool," Willis says.
Miles nods, "She was growing tomatoes in her apartment."
He hopes she remembers to go back and check on them if she's going to be gone a whole week and not watering them.
He makes another mental note to remind her. His notes are stacking higher. He hopes they don't topple over into a mess of thoughts.
Cecily pulls up to Miles's house. It's so weird coming here after work rather than her apartment.
She thought she had quite an excellent day of progress inside and outside of work.
She happily flips her keyring around her finger and then hears a delighted barking.
Dexter is at the fence to greet her!
"Aww my Dexy-wexy!" Cecily coos and kneels down to rustle his ears and rub his doggy cheeks with utter fondness. "How was your day? Did you spend it inside the nice, big house?"
Dexter's tongue lolls out of his mouth in drooly approval.
She realizes Miles must have seen her pull up and let Dexter out to greet her and smiles.
His car is there so he had returned sooner.
She enters, and the door is unlocked. She doesn't have a key but doesn't expect to, it is so new—her living there—and besides this is all just a trial stay.
"I'm back!" she calls, though she knows Miles is well aware. She finds him in the kitchen and it looks like he is packing meat into patties. Dexter is immediately interested in a dinner that does not belong to him.
"Hey!" Miles says and briefly glances at her with a welcoming smile.
She leans on the door frame, "Hey good lookin', whatcha got cookin'?
"Hamburger patties," Miles replies, patting one down into a round shape and stacking it on top of another.
"I sure hope you cleaned this counter before you started," Cecily notes with half-seriousness coming up behind him and looking intently at the spot in question.
He flashes a keen smile accompanied by a chuckle, "Of course I did."
"Do you have a grill?"
Miles shakes his head, "Was just gonna pan-fry it."
She accepts that fact with neither a look of approval nor disapproval. It makes him consider buying a grill.
"I was meaning to ask.." he transfers some of the patties over near the stove to begin to fry them, rummaging through a cabinet for a clean pan, "Do you have any food allergies I should know about?"
"Nothing I know of. I don't like beans though."
"Noted."
Cecily hangs out in the kitchen and watches Miles cook. She mentions she should take Dexter on a walk but finds out Miles already did that as soon as he got home.
She is impressed Dexter had no complaints, he wasn't the most behaved being one-on-one with strangers which Miles virtually was.
Miles carefully places cheese slices on each medium-well patty and tops them off with a hamburger bun. Considering how little sleep he had gotten, she is impressed with his strength of focus.
"Hey," she says and hugs herself around one of his arms. He regards her without a word, just a movement of his head to see what she has to say, "Thanks for making dinner."
"My pleasure."
"So, how was your day? How did your presentation go?" Cecily asks. She had thought about it a few times at work, wondering what Miles was doing. She probably should have texted him over lunch but was too preoccupied with the soil thing.
His smile fades and she braces to hear bad news.
"It was okay, my regular concept artist was replaced with a newbie who doesn't like my idea."
Cecily takes a bite of her hamburger, tries not to get ketchup on her face, and swallows, "What was the idea, anyway?"
"I kind of want it to be a surprise for you."
Cecily drops it at that, but can't help but to feel a bit giddy because as far as she knows new video games take years to develop, and if he wants to surprise her with it...it means he's thinking about her for a long haul. She is also curious about it but is willing to wait and find out.
Evening descends upon their dinner and they continue to chat.
"What about you? How was your day? Get your hands dirty?"
She just smiles mischievously, "I'm chasing a mystery."
Cecily goes on to explain what that mystery entails—the discrepancy of the soil machine to her careful observations. Miles doesn't quite understand the implications of her findings but still listens intently. He's trying to understand at least.
She could all but kiss him when he reminds her about her tomatoes back at her apartment. She will get up early before work tomorrow and water them.
She suddenly reaches out and lands her hand over his, "I think whatever you came up with for that video game proposal will be golden."
His smile returns, albeit, it's a small one, "How can you be so sure? You don't even know what it was."
"Because it's your idea. You have a great mind and anyone who doesn't see that is a fool."
His expression softens, and he enjoys the comfort of her hand in his, where her fingers have threaded through his own.
It feels so natural.
Soothing.
There is such a warmth about her that it blows all the cold and lonely nights from his immediate memory. What was life before a few weeks ago? How did he manage to function on five hours of sleep and reheated leftovers because he didn't care how he was perceived?
He isn't much hungry for dinner but finds he has a never-ending appetite when it comes to being around Cecily Louis.
Which is only proven so after they clean up dinner.
She kicks off her shoes and starts kissing him like she's waited all day to jump him like this.
He sweeps her up in his arms and all the woes of his day dissipate as if Cecily is a power buff.
+10 comfort.
Story Index | Prev | Next
Comments
Post a Comment