15 Months

3: Settling In

The first week went by in a breeze. Tristan studied his co-workers as he did for all missions. He didn't run into the manager at all that week except at noon, during their break which turned out to be wilder than he expected

The break area was always crowded. People were either sitting at the little table or getting food from the fridge before heating it. Twice, Ann made them all hot chocolate with marshmallow snowmen. Alan blasted a song from his favourite anime at least once causing others to yell at him about the noise. Another co-worker, Ahmad, made them a hot middle eastern drink called sahlab.

These little gestures made it easier to tolerate the cold winter weather. Tristan could almost forget that it was freezing outside. He dreaded going home. For some reason, corporate decided to rent him an apartment that was 20 minutes away from Kerzillion. In this weather, it took him up to one hour to get home.

The project coordinator's job wasn't difficult. Tristan had done all this work before for other companies. He just had to help the other coordinators and Dahlia in planning two certain projects that were due by the end of the week. He'd spent most of his free time with Evelyn. She told him about all the fun traditions of the employees. She also told him that every Friday they gather in the meeting room to review all the week's work.

That was why Tristan looked forward to this day. He'd finally be able to get to know Dahlia. And earn her approval. He's usually not this hurried but this mission required her trust.

"You'll get a particularly large financial budget."

"You can't tell me when this will happen?" Tristan asked the man, already knowing the answer.

The man just gave him a side glance causing Tristan to sigh. They never gave him all the information. He didn't know if this was because they didn't trust him or if it was just their way of work. What he did know was that he shouldn't ask more questions as the man continued the mission report.

"There'll be a fire, an employee will try to get the only hardcopy of these plans. Your last resort is to reach the hardcopy first and burn it."

All Tristan could do was nod.

"If you have to, die trying to get it but don't die trying to save anyone, I know how attached you can get."

His last resort, Tristan thought about those words. A fire and people getting hurt wasn't really something he anticipated. That's why he wanted to get close to Dahlia. He had to ruin that project plan before it reached its clients. He had to avoid the last resort.

At 4 pm, Gloria called them to the meeting room. Once they were all inside, she closed the door. Tristan opted for a chair. He wasn't sure how he felt about attending a work meeting on a bean bag. They all sat facing the wall with the screen on it. Dahlia was standing underneath it.

He saw how comfortable everyone was, he could even make out Alan bickering with someone at the back over the sofa. He was, once again, reminded of how much this group seemed like a family rather than a bunch of co-workers.

"Ok, team," Dahlia clapped her hand once to get their attention, "We've finally finished one of the bigger projects of this year. The clients liked it and appreciated our different strategies and solutions so thank you all for the hard work." A few people cheered.

The meeting went on for the next two hours. Most of the talk was about their work next week, their other big project and some new little projects that were coming in. A few times the conversation strayed from work-related topics like whether they had Thanksgiving off and whether the new TV actually worked.

They were finally dismissed 2 hours later.

"Oh right, heichou!" Alan called out to Dahlia. Captain, Tristan's mind automatically translated the word. Alan gave the manager some papers and they had a short discussion before he left.

Tristan waited after everyone left. Dahlia was still looking through the papers when he talked, "You certainly know how to keep things fresh."

She looked up at him, "You're not so bad yourself. I heard you're on first name basis with almost everyone. Even Marcus likes you."

It took him a moment to realise she was talking about Mr. Dylan, another project coordinator. He flashed her one of his signature smiles, "Yes, it's a good quality to have. Especially since teamwork is important for project management."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "You're proficient, Antonov, and I like that." She took a pause, "You're not from Canada, are you?"

"No," he took a second, trying to decide whether he should clarify, "My father's Welsh."

"Ah, but you weren't raised there, were you?"

He just looked at her, as he tried to understand what she was getting at. His CV included nothing about his country of residence as a child. There were multiple locations. Fake locations of fake jobs he purportedly had. He racked his brain for anything that could lead to suspicion, but his personal documents didn't have any blunders. They never did.

She saw the look on his face and decided to clarify, "You just don't have an accent, sorry if I overstepped."

He let out a relieved chuckle. She was a very observant person; he'd have to be cautious around her. "It's alright and no, I wasn't raised in Wales."

"Tristan!" Evelyn's voice came from outside before she popped her head into the meeting room, "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were with the manager."

Dahlia beat him to a reply, "It's alright, it wasn't anything important. Is everyone gone?"

"It's Tristan's first Thursday here, you know what that means."

She nodded at Evelyn, "Ah, of course, have fun then," she looked at Tristan, "See you on Monday."

"See you, Ms. Garcia."

"Please, call me Dahlia."

He smiled, his mind did a little victory hop, it took one week after all, "Good night, Dahlia."

That night, he joined Evelyn, Alan, Gloria and three others to celebrate him "joining the family". They ordered an absurd mixture of food and ate it at a park where they exchanged stories and bad jokes. Later they went to a bar and although he didn't drink, Tristan had fun. They sang and danced and toasted to "a future full of Tristan" which reminded him of how their future wouldn't be full of Tristan.

He felt guilty for making these people like him, he always did. One would think that after almost 2 decades of this job, he'd get used to this. Yet, he never did. He chose to ignore those thoughts. He focused on the laughter and the lively conversations.

That night when he went home, he wished for the umpteenth time that this wasn't his job. He had all the money he'd need, a house found only in dreams, and yet he didn't control his life. He quickly shunned that thought and went to sleep.