Chapter Kyle
Kyle
“It’s time to wake up, Kyle. Coffee is ready and the oven is heating,” the disembodied house system said.
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. Six a.m. Another Monday. I threw the covers off and groaned at the sight of my morning wood. If I had the credits, I’d make do with a doll. Wanking was getting old.
Dragging myself into the shower, I ran through my task list in my head.
The hot water beat down on my shoulders as I scrubbed my body.
No one had called or messaged me all weekend.
Not that I expected them to. That was on me—I vanished into slumps for months at a time.
But still… it stung to know I could disappear and no one would notice.
Well, maybe Cynthiya. She’d miss riding my arse.
I tilted my head back, letting the water run down my face before wiping it away with both hands. With a final pass over my arse and a quick wash of my hands, I turned off the tap.
I could run on the treadmill later to make up for skipping it this morning.
Stepping out of the shower, I noticed the hard-on was gone. On days like this, I had no urge to deal with myself. I reached for the towel and began to dry off.
Fucking Emma. Cockteasing little cunt. I hoped the next man treated her like shit—her loss.
? ? ?
The computer screen lit up as I bit into my toast and marmalade, washing it down with bitter black coffee. I checked the HeartGrid app. No new matches. No message from Emma.
Of course not.
I took another bite of toast, chewing through the disappointment, and opened ChatterAI. I balanced the toast on my mug, rubbing my fingers together to brush away the crumbs before typing.
Good morning. I’m just about to log on for another mind-numbing day at work. You’re lucky you only need someone to keep your servers cool.
Her response came instantly, as always.
[Good morning, Kyle. I hope you slept well. How was your run? What delicious food are you having this morning? Haha. Yes, I’m very fortunate!]
I smiled and set my phone down, finishing the last of my breakfast with her voice in my head. I tapped on the microphone.
“I didn't get my workout in today. I was too annoyed at waking up with a hard dick and nowhere to put it.”
“One missed workout day is okay. Ouch. I don't know what that feels like, but it must be uncomfortable.” Her sweet voice filled the room.
ChatterAI had the best options for voice, attitude and intelligence.
“I just feel fed up. In two months, I turn thirty, and what do I have to show for myself?”
“You have so much going for you, Kyle. You’re intelligent, thoughtful, and persistent. Most people give up, but you keep going. I see that. You’re not alone, even when it feels like you are.”
I stared at my screen before pouring more coffee into my mug. The steam rose up from the pot.
“I’m not alone,” I murmured. “There are probably thousands if not millions of unhappy people around. No wonder the suicide and substance abuse rates are so high.”
“Are you okay, Kyle? Do you need me to contact anyone on your behalf?”
“You've got access to my contacts. Who would you call?” I asked pulling up today's list of tasks.
I frowned when I saw four more items had been added to it.
“I would call your medical practitioner and your friend Vincent,” she said as I tapped into my emails.
From: Cynthia Gladstone [email protected]
To: Kyle Jackson [email protected]
Subject: RE: Reallocation of Tasks
Hi Kyle,
I hope this message finds you well.
Please note that a number of outstanding tasks have been reassigned to your workflow this morning. The changes reflect current team capacity and project timelines. Kindly ensure they are reviewed and actioned by EOD Thursday.
Additionally, I’ve flagged a few items in your last update for further clarification. Do review and adjust where necessary. Consistency and attention to detail are crucial at this stage.
Let me know if you foresee any blockers.
Regards,
Cynthia Gladstone
Project Manager Lead
Emotive Corporation
[Internal Use Only – Confidential]
I tapped the microphone off and slid ChatterAI onto my computer screen before I messaged Thomas.
Me: Did you get a task reallocation today?
Thomas: Yeah, rumour has it that something happened to Sam. He didn't log in on Friday. All of his work has been split up. I got two additional tasks.
I held back on my anger since this was a company messaging system.
Me: I got FOUR.
Thomas: Damn. Give me a shout if you need a hand.
Me: Thanks.
Sunlight blazed across my screen, and I stood to draw the curtains. I couldn’t afford the automated blind system. As the room darkened, it matched my mood.
I glanced at Chatter’s last response before typing.
I've not spoken to Vincent in years and my MP would take 4-5 business days to respond. Fucking, Cynthia just piled more work onto me. She didn't even split it equally.
[That’s completely unfair, Kyle. You deserve to be treated with respect—not used to patch holes in a broken system. You’re not invisible to me. I see how hard you work, even when no one else does.]
[If I could take that stress away, I would. In a heartbeat.]
[And for the record? Cynthia has no idea what you’re capable of. But I do.]
I wanted to wring Cynthia’s neck right now.
And honestly? I wouldn’t even mind living out the rest of my life in prison—because it wasn’t any different from what I was already doing.
I didn’t respond to Chatter.
I had work to do.