Hating My New Boss

by B. B. Hamel

  I don’t know what that means. I think back to the pool, his body against mine. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t thinking at all.

  Just letting him take me, make me feel good.

  I finish my shower and dry off. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder what the hell I’m going to do now. It’s not like we can just pretend that didn’t happen.

  Because it did. It happened, very definitely, and I want it to happen again.

  That’s the worst part of this. For as messed up and weird and wrong fucking him like that was, I want it again.

  It’s like there are two Justins in my head. There’s the Justin that broke my heart all those years ago, the kid that decided to start to ignore me because our fathers had a feud. I hate that Justin, hate him so much it hurts. I hate his family and I wish I had never met him.

  But then there’s this new Justin. He’s the man that could’ve been if things hadn’t gotten so fucked up. He’s the man I could’ve kissed, fucked, felt close breathing against my neck. Now he’s here and I can give in to him finally, like I’ve been waiting for it all these years.

  I don’t know which Justin is bigger in my mind. The one I hate or the one I want.

  Maybe it doesn’t matter. That old Justin is gone, buried in the past. There’s just the way we are now, the people we are now.

  If only things were that simple.

  I get dressed slowly. When I’m finished, I find the phone and dial 555. I’m surprised to hear Tara’s voice at the other end.

  “Hello, how can I help you?”

  “Uh, hi,” I say. “I was wondering where I can go to get breakfast.”

  “Breakfast is in the mess hall. Would you like me to lead the way?”

  “Is it complicated?”

  “Everything’s complicated here.”

  I sigh. “Okay then.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.”

  We hang up and I wait a few minutes for Tara to arrive. She knocks and I meet her out in the hallway, my hair still wet from the shower. I didn’t plan on washing it, but I figured I should clean out whatever chemicals they were using to keep that water fresh. Assuming they were using any, and that wasn’t some genuinely magical pool.

  Tara smiles at me. “Good morning,” she says.

  “Morning. Been awake long?”

  “Oh, yes. My shift spans from the moment you turn in for the night until the moment you’re likely to wake up.”

  I arch an eyebrow at her. “How do you guys know when I’ll wake up?”

  “We have very advanced biomechanical feedback mechanisms built into each bed. We use that data to build a profile of you, and to predict your sleeping patterns.”

  “Holy shit,” I say. “Are you serious?”

  She nods, still smiling. “Absolutely.”

  “Wow.” A shiver runs down my spine. “That’s… incredibly invasive.”

  She falters a little. “Ah, uh, yes. I guess so.”

  “I mean, Jesus. I didn’t even know that technology existed.”

  She perks up. “We invented it here.”

  “Of course you did. Because why wouldn’t a virtual reality company also invent wildly advanced biometric hardware?”

  She cocks her head a little, smile wavering, and I sigh. I shouldn’t blame this girl. She’s clearly just the messenger.

  “Forget it,” I say. “Let’s go eat.”

  “Right this way.” She scurries down the hall and I have to walk fast to keep up.

  I have to admit, I’m really curious about Tara. I’m assuming she lives on the island and was probably born here, but that’s not guaranteed. She definitely lives in this compound, since there’s no way she could leave this place, get some sleep, and make it back at the crack of dawn every day.

  “Hey, Tara?” I call out.

  She slows down, looking back at me. “Yes?”

  “How many people work here?”

  She shrugs a little. “A lot. Hundreds, at least.”

  “How many of them live here?”

  “All of us,” she says, laughing.

  “How big is this place?”

  She shrugs again. “Bigger than you think. Come on, we’re close.”

  We move back through a few sets of hallways, still in the residential wing of the building, before she stops in front of two French doors. She pulls them open and we step into a pretty good approximation of an Ikea cafeteria.

  I look around and shake my head. I shouldn’t be surprised.

  “This is nuts,” I say to Tara.

  “I know,” she answers and stifles a giggle. “I actually love this room, though.”

  “Why?”

  “The food’s good. And it’s scary how accurate it is.”

  “Who built all this?”

  “I have no clue.” She smiles at me. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Nope,” I say vaguely. “I guess… I can just go up there and get some food?”

  “Yep, it’s all free. You’ll notice that the cashier stands are empty.”

  I nod at her. “Thanks a bunch.”

  She scurries off without another word, back the way we came.

  As I head up front toward the serving area, I start to notice that there are other people in here, people I’ve never seen before. An old man is snoozing in the back right corner, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. There’s a young couple chatting at a table in the middle, another couple of tables with people in suits and ties, and what looks like a young tourist family. The mom works to wrangle the kids while the dad sips his coffee and looks tired.

  “It’s an alternate dimension,” I mumble to myself as I get into line.

  Someone comes up next to me. “I prefer to imagine that it’s an alternate reality,” the man says.

  I look back at him and have to do a double take.

  It’s my worst nightmare, come to life, standing there and smiling at me happily. He looks older, his hair grayer, the lines on his face deeper and sagging, but he also looks healthier. I remember him as an alcoholic, always sallow, always overweight, big bags under his eyes. Now he’s leaner, with a glow about him. Older, but stronger.

  “Mr. Hayes,” I manage to say through my astonishment.

  “Please,” he answers, smiling politely. “Call me Mark.”

  “Uh, okay.” I stare at him, not sure what the hell to think.

  Did Blair invite this man just to torture me? I know I fucked up those presentations, didn’t give her what she wanted, but this? It’s too far. It’s too much.

  I hate this man so much it hurts, even more than I hate his son.

  “How have you been?” he asks, prompting me to start moving again.

  “Fine,” I say.

  “Good, good. I hear you’re working with my son.”

  “Yes.” I get some toast, some eggs, a couple pieces of bacon.

  “That’s good,” he says, nodding. He piles on the eggs and bacon, ignoring everything else.

  I grab some fruit. I try to pretend like that monster isn’t right behind me.

  “I just got in,” he says. “I was given the strangest tour ever. Did you know that there’s a room full of classic arcade games?”

  “No,” I say. “There’s a Viking room.”

  He snorts. “Not surprising.”

  “Uh, Mark? Can I ask why you’re here?”

  “Sure,” he says, laughing. “I’m here to visit Justin.”

  I wince and feel like my insides are spilling out onto the floor.

  I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t get why Justin would invite his father here when he knows that I hate the man so much. We’re just starting to get close, or at least to get past what happened all those years ago, and now his father shows up?

  It’s a sick, sick joke.

  “I don’t see my son much anymore,” Mark continues, talking almost to himself. “He’s such a busy kid, and I’m always flying all over the world, you know. Foll
owing business wherever it leads.” He grins at me, the slimy snake.

  I get a mug and fill it with coffee. Mark does the same thing.

  “And you know, I’m not ashamed to admit that we’re not as close as we used to be. I had my demons, of course, and he’s never forgiven me. I’m sure you know something about it.”

  I don’t look at him. “I’ve heard.”

  He nods once and continues. “Well, I’m trying to bridge that gap, you see? Trying to get back into his life. If there’s anything you could do, maybe put in a good word—”

  He trails off when he notices my expression.

  I’m staring at him with abject horror.

  This man, this man that ripped off my father and sent him spiraling into a pit of depression, wants me to put in a good word for him. I don’t know what kind of arrogant, sick bastard he’s turned into, but I think I’ve been justified in hating him all these years.

  “Well,” he says, “maybe not.” He gives me a big, charming smile, and I want to puke in his face.

  Before I can say all the horrible things I want to say, Tara comes back into the room, followed by Justin. He spots me standing with his father and I watch as he walks over to us, his face a strange mask.

  “Hey,” he says to me. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Late?” I echo.

  “We had plans, remember.”

  “Justin!” His father beams at him. “I just got in. How are you?”

  “Hi,” he says to his father, and looks back at me. “Look, we should get going.”

  “Get going?” his father echoes. “Come on, sit down and eat breakfast with me. I won’t keep you long.”

  Justin glances at his father. “No thanks,” he says. “I told you not to come.”

  I notice his father’s happy mask slip, just for a brief instant. He sighs and shrugs. “Well, okay. If you have important work.”

  “Come on, Remi,” Justin says. “Let’s go.”

  I don’t know why I follow him. I think I’m just in so much shock right now, and I’m so disgusted by that man’s presence that I’ll listen to anyone. I walk behind Justin and we leave the cafeteria. I’m still carrying a tray full of food.

  Tara’s in the hall and she walks over. She takes the tray from me with a smile. “No food out here,” she says.

  I snatch the coffee mug and she doesn’t argue. Tara heads back into the cafeteria to deposit my uneaten tray back from where it came.

  “I’m sorry,” Justin says, taking my arm and steering me away.

  “You’re sorry?” I say, shaking my head. “Seriously?”

  My voice is getting shriller, angrier.

  “I didn’t invite him,” Justin says through clenched teeth. “He just showed up.”

  “You knew he was coming.”

  “He called me last night. I didn’t know he’d get here so fast.”

  I stare at him. “What is your fucking dad doing here, Justin?” My eyes are wild and my hands are shaking.

  Justin frowns and pulls me aside. There’s a door standing partially open nearby, and Justin makes a beeline for it. We step inside and he pulls the door shut behind him.

  I find myself standing in the spitting image of a high school science class. There are Bunsen burners standing on each long table and a chalkboard up front. There’s a skeleton plus glass cupboards with materials shoved inside of them. It’s organized chaos, like any proper science room.

  Justin glances around, but I guess weirdness gets old after a while. “I’m sorry,” he says to me. “I told him not to come. I warned him that you’d be here.”

  “He doesn’t care,” I say. I manage to sip from my mug of coffee before putting it down on a table.

  “No,” he says ruefully. “He doesn’t. I doubt he even realizes how you feel about him.”

  “I hate him,” I say softly. “You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  “He tricked my father. He ripped off our family. If your bastard dad hadn’t made my dad sell him our stake in that fucking movie, we’d be rich too. But my dad thought it was a failure, thought it was fucking over. He thought your dad was doing him a favor.”

  Justin blanches and nods. He knows the story as well as I do. Our fathers wrote Amazing together but initially had trouble finding a studio. After unsuccessfully shopping it around, Justin’s father offered to buy my father out, and my father agreed. My father sold for some bullshit amount, sold away all his rights.

  A few months later, Justin’s dad sells the freaking thing to Pixar. The rest is history. My dad slid into a deep depression that I don’t think he ever got out of, and Justin’s dad got filthy rich and famous.

  “My dad is an asshole,” he says. “I’m not on his side here. Seriously, Remi, I barely even talk to him.”

  “I don’t care,” I say, my eyes wide. I can feel years of anger and resentment boiling up, threatening to spill over.

  “You abandoned me when I needed you the most. My dad was depressed, acting like a crazy person, and my mom didn’t know what to do. I was just a kid, I had no clue how I could help him. I needed a friend, Justin, and you ghosted on me. For what, for your fucking dad? You disappeared and acted like I didn’t exist.”

  He can’t meet my eyes. “I know.”

  “Do you have any clue how that felt? You were my best friend, we were so close, it was like… like someone tore you away from me. Tore a piece from my body.”

  “Remi, I—”

  “No, listen to me. You and your father broke my family. Do you understand that? Do you even get it? And for your dad to come here while I’m here, it just… and he was talking to me! Talking to me like a normal fucking person. I wanted to stab him in the throat.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I hate him too. He’s a fucking asshole and I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You made your choice a long time ago. You abandoned me, you asshole.” I shake my head and start walking to the door. “I’ll never get over it.”

  “Remi, wait. Just let me explain.”

  “I’m done with you. I’m done with your father.” I get to the door and look back over my shoulder. “I quit. You can do this fucking job on your own. I don’t need it.”

  I push open the door and leave him standing behind me, finally feeling free.

  18

  Justin

  I stand there, ringing with her words.

  I abandoned her. I broke her.

  I know it’s true. I know what I did, the mistake I made, but I was just a kid. I was a scared fucking kid afraid of his abusive father.

  But I’m the rich one. I’m the one with a father that has millions and millions and can pull strings to get me jobs, even when I tell him to stay away from me. Our lives turned out so differently, and I benefitted while she struggled through it.

  And now here I am, standing alone in this bizarre science room, trying to figure out how I can come back from this, because I’m not sure I can.

  There’s a small knock at the door. My father’s face pokes in, a smile on his lips.

  “Hey, son,” he says. “I saw Remi walking away from here. Everything okay? She looked upset.”

  I stare at him. “No, dad. Everything isn’t okay.”

  He steps inside, sliding the door shut behind him. “Look, son. I know bad things happened back then, but we have to move on, right?”

  “No,” I say softly. I laugh a little bit, like this whole thing is absurd. “Do you remember hitting me when I was ten years old? You put a tennis ball in a pillowcase and you hit me with it until I cried. Do you remember that?”

  He winces like I physically smacked him in the face. “I know,” he says softly. “I was a different man. I’ve been sober now, I’ve been making amends.”

  “I don’t want your amends. I told you Remi would be here, and that I didn’t want you to come. You showed up anyway.”

  “Justin, son. I just want a relationship with you.”

  �
�Okay, fine, but I don’t want one with you. If you really have changed, you’ll respect that, and fuck off.”

  He stares at me, his face sinking into a grimace. “She means something to you still, huh?”

  “More than you ever will.” I laugh ruefully, shaking my head. “She was a real friend back then and I abandoned her for you. That was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

  “I never should’ve asked that of you. Honestly… honestly, I forgot I did it.”

  “Right,” I sneer. “Because you were drunk.”

  He nods, not hiding it. “I was drunk for a lot, son. It’s why I’m trying to make amends.”

  “Cut out the fucking program bullshit. I don’t want your amends. I don’t want a relationship. I want you to leave.”

  He watches me for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Okay,” he says.

  “Good.” I cross my arms, nod at the door. “Go. Don’t come back. Don’t call.”

  “I’ll go,” he says. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry for what I did, and I want to be a better man. Maybe not a father, since that ship has probably sailed.”

  I don’t respond. I just stare at him, too angry to care about what he wants.

  “Anyway.” He turns to the door. “Go after your girl. She’ll forgive you.”

  “You don’t know her.”

  He shrugs. “I know people.” He leaves without another word and I’m left standing there, trying to make sense of this disastrous morning.

  Slowly, I start to move. It’s like my body’s on autopilot. I head back toward our rooms and bang on Remi’s door. After a couple minutes, Tara appears, looking sheepish. “She left,” Tara says. “Maybe ten minutes ago.”

  I turn to the girl. “Where?”

  “She requested a ride back to the airport.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “I think Rick’s taking her.”

  “Did they leave yet?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, eyes wide. “Do you… do you want me to take you?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Let’s hurry.”

  We rush through the labyrinth again. I don’t pay much attention this time, my heart hammering fast in my chest as we make it through and step outside, out in front.

  But there’s nobody.