Chapter 7
Fifteen minutes before the end of his shift, Kieran marks the current ticket as resolved and prays to the IT gods that no more come through. He swears there’s some unwritten rule that only the most annoying, time-consuming requests are generated just as everyone’s about to leave.
There’s a bang from his neighboring cubicle, and he peeks over the top.
“You okay, mate?”
Joe lifts his head from the desk, a small red mark on his forehead where he slammed it against the top.
“Got a ticket from Greg.”
Kieran winces in sympathy. Everyone knows Greg. The guy who will, unfailingly, contact IT with the most ridiculous of tasks.
“What is it today?”
Joe blinks blearily at the screen. “Says his mouse is haunted.”
Kieran snorts. “Sounds like a fun one.”
Joe groans. “Kill me now.”
Just as Kieran’s about to send a small thank you to whatever deity has spared him the headache of dealing with dear Greg, his own computer pings.
Fuck him, why now?!
“I need to find a different job.”
Not a new epiphany, just something he’s been working on, but hasn’t found a solution to yet.
What difference would it make to switch companies?
It’s probably the same everywhere. Working from home would be ideal, as would doing something different.
Building websites, maybe? Something to engage his brain a bit more before it completely rots.
Unfortunately, being self-employed doesn’t exactly scream work stability.
He drops into his chair and opens the ticket.
Subject: URGENT. Computer not working. Need fixed ASAP. Possibly hacked???
Sent by: Janet, HR
Nooo. Not Janet. The same Janet who once claimed her desktop ‘smelled weird’ (it was a microwaved tuna sandwich in her desk drawer).
Okay, deep breaths.
The ticket comes with a single attachment—a screenshot of her desktop. Taken with a phone. With the flash on.
Kieran squints at the contents, managing to somewhat decrypt it after a few minutes.
Janet’s desktop has about a hundred icons, all of that on a colorful rainforest background.
There’s a pop-up in the corner, the system encouraging a Windows update.
That’s it. That’s the crisis.
In the interest of resolving this quickly, despite hating phone calls, Kieran calls Janet directly. As expected, the explanation goes over her head.
“There’s a message saying it wants to restart the computer,” she tells him, sounding irritated. “I didn’t tell it to do that. Someone must be controlling it remotely. Maybe the Russians.”
Kieran pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Janet, it’s a Windows update. Your system is overdue for a patch. It needs to restart to apply security updates.”
“But what if I don’t want it to restart? What if it deletes all my files? What if it…” her voice drops into a whisper, “downloads porn?”
“Shockingly, porn isn’t part of the Windows update.” How sad is that?
“But I heard—”
Twenty minutes and a few more conspiracy theories later, the ‘issue’ has been resolved and Kieran’s shift is officially over. As is his will to live.
What a long fucking day, and it’s only Wednesday. He can’t wait to go home and do absolutely nothing.
“Yo, Kieran, you coming?” Shane calls as he, Joe, and two other guys, whose names Kieran can’t recall, make their way to the lifts.
“To…?”
“You didn’t hear? It’s Dan’s last day, so we’re going to Harvey’s for a couple of beers.”
It would probably be helpful if he knew which one Dan is. Not that he can ask.
Despite his initial reflex to decline the invitation, Kieran ponders it.
On one hand, he has an amazing bed waiting for him at home, as well as a shower with heavenly water pressure.
On the other, he’s a sad sack of crap who can’t get a date for the life of him, and whose friend barely spends any time with him.
Technically, he might consider Zeke and Gabe friends, but after what happened last time, he’s been avoiding going to the café for fear of bumping into a certain someone.
So that’s that. Maybe it’s time he starts socializing a little.
Suppressing the instant cringe that rises at the thought, he flashes Shane a smile and shrugs. The fact that alcohol will be involved helps him make a decision.
“Sure, why not. But I’ll head over later. Need to drop off my car first.”
“Cool. See you there.”
“See you,” he replies, already getting the feeling that he’s going to regret this later.
The pub isn’t busy, it being the middle of the week, and it takes no time for Kieran to spot his little group.
“Long time no see,” he says in lieu of a greeting as he slides into the last available chair at their table.
“You made it.” Shane grins at him, his beer more than half empty, similar to everyone else’s. “We thought you might have ditched us.”
“I was thinking about it.”
The guys laugh, even though Kieran wasn’t joking.
“Here.” Shane pushes another beer towards him, the foam at the top still thick. “This one just arrived, so you can have it.”
His body going from relaxed to rigid in a matter of seconds, Kieran forces himself to breathe through a bout of nausea. He scrambles for a response before anyone can notice his strange reaction. “Thanks, but…I’m not really into beer.” It’s not even a lie.
“That’s fine,” Shane says, unbothered, and nods towards the QR code glued to the middle of the table. “Order whatever you want.”
A stuttering breath leaves Kieran’s lungs, his stomach slowly settling down. He knows he’s being irrational. He knows no one put anything in the beer (probably). Now if he could only convince his brain.
Pulling out his phone with slightly shaky hands, he goes to scan the QR code when an incoming call from his mum lights up the screen.
For fuck’s sake… Is today cursed or something?
He considers letting it go to voicemail, but that would only result in ten missed calls in a row. Better get it over with now.
“Sorry, guys, I have to take this.” He makes his way outside, away from the music, and takes a bracing breath before he picks up. “Hey, Mum.”
“So you do know how to use your phone.”
“What?”
“You never call. I always have to chase you.”
Nice. Guilt-tripping instead of a hello. Must be a new record.
“I’ve been busy.”
She scoffs. “With what? It’s not like you’re working towards a promotion.”
Kieran’s hand tightens around the phone. Criticizing his job again? That’s rich coming from someone who relies on her boyfriends to pay all the bills.
He doesn’t say that out loud, and instead asks, “How’s Tom, by the way?”
“Tom?” she repeats with disbelief. “That’s been over for two months. You’d know that if you’d called.”
Suppressing a groan, Kieran rests his head against the wall of the pub, the music making the it thud and vibrate.
A disapproving sound comes from the other end of the line. “What’s that noise? Are you out partying in the middle of the week?”
Here we fucking go again. “I’m not out partying, Jesus. I’m having a drink with coworkers.”
“Well, just be careful. You know how you get.”
Despite knowing the answer, and how it will send his blood pressure through the fucking roof, the masochistic part of him forces him to ask, “How do I get? Please, enlighten me.”
“You know what I mean. You have a penchant for getting with the wrong crowd because you are so impressionable.”
Getting with the wrong crowd. What a freaking irony.
There never were any crowds. No one who’d give Kieran the time of day, no matter how much he wanted to be part of something.
But at least he learned how to appreciate solitude and the peace that comes with having only yourself for company.
It all worked out in his favor, because that’s how he prefers it now. Who needs other people, anyway?
So yeah, no crowds, and definitely none when he was a teenager. He had no idea that taking a joint from the class bully on a dare and subsequently getting caught would stick to him like chewing gum for the rest of his life.
Instead of saying any of that, he just grits out, “Anything else you wanted to say?”
She gives a sigh, because clearly Kieran is being terribly difficult right now. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine. Going to work. Going home. Living the dream.”
She clicks her tongue. Jesus fucking Christ, what now?! “You never go anywhere, always holing up in that apartment of yours. Have you met any nice girls yet?”
She was just complaining about him spending time outside with other people…
“Nope. I told you, I don’t have time for that.”
“You keep that attitude up and, before you know it, you are fifty and alone.”
What’s new? He’d rather be alone forever than end up with a string of asshole partners like his mum.
“I’m twenty-six. Maybe calm down?”
“Watch your tone.” She hisses, making his stomach knot up despite them being in different states. “And when I was your age, I was already pregnant with you.”
As if he could forget. He’s heard the story about what a difficult child he’s been, ever since leaving the uterus, more times than he can count.
“Sorry, but I’m not planning to get knocked up anytime soon.”
“Don’t be distasteful,” she chides. “Since you never do anything, why don’t you ever come visit your old mother?”
“You’re not old and I’m busy,” he reminds her.
“You’re always busy,” she complains. “I was busy for 18 years taking care of you, but you can’t spare one weekend.”
Taking care of him. Right.
“You didn’t hesitate to visit your father,” she throws in his face.
“He was at the hospital after having a stroke.” And his dad is easier to handle. He also never demands Kieran visit him. In fact, he has little interest in keeping in touch. And why would he, having a whole other family to play dad for?
“So you’re saying I need to be on my deathbed before you’ll come to visit?”
“Oh my god,” Kieran cries, short of banging his head against the wall.
“Well, that’s what you’re saying—”
Nope. He can’t do this. Not now. Ideally never, but especially not now. “Mum? I gotta go. I’ll call you next week, okay?”
“But—”