Steelheart

05. | missed calls

For the third time, I stare at the clock, hanging on my office wall. I was trying to be patient—waiting for the last few minutes of my shift to wrap up. It felt like it was getting longer with each minute.
I was in the last meeting of the day. Today there were four. All of them have revolved around the discussion of a new project that's been in the air. Something that a guy named Mitch Gordon was doing. It's said to be one of the biggest up-and-coming projects Pittsburgh has seen in years.
It sounds like something special, but it's also disclosed for now. That helps me in no way though, since it's probably going to be offered my way.
I don't mind being a part of something big. Especially if it helps others. I just hate when I feel like my creative thought process or ideas aren't working. Or maybe just not meshing with others. It's always 'too much' or 'not enough'. It beginning to feel unfulfilling. I'm only good for my ability to sculpt and draw these crazy buildings. It feels useless.
The meeting involved Parker, Trinity, and Bennett. Parker and I have worked together here for years now. I wouldn't consider us like best friends, but he certainly is a close one. We do a lot of traveling together. Plus he coordinates a lot of our meetings, delivering information.

Trinity isn't new but hasn't been here as long. She's sweet, I think. The thing is, she mostly serves as office eye candy, and I'm pretty sure she's sleeping with a few of our co-workers. There's no way all these men love her that much in such a power-dominated building.
Everyone thrives off of who has to best ideas, connections, and position in the hierarchy. For a woman to be that high in the field is nothing surprising to me. Men are idiots. I would know. But when a woman is of that intelligence, it becomes a problem usually. Not for Trinity though.
Then there's Bennett. He's probably my least favorite. He loves scamming and wrapping you into plans that aren't that well thought out. I sometimes wonder how he got this job. He's also new. Really new.

We also were focused on a project that I call 'Esplanade'. What it is, is a sustainable development project that will be built over nearly fifteen acres of land. It even sits on the river so we can add something similar to a boardwalk. I brainstormed the idea while in the area a while ago, seeing a hockey game.
"So, we can pick this back up next week?" Parker asks all of us.
"That's fine." Trinity nods.
"Yup," Bennett adds.
Everyone looked at me through the laptop screen as I fumbled with my tie.
"Silas," Parker says.
My head snaps up as I nod, "Oh yeah, sure. Next week."

Everyone begins to say goodbye. All I could think of was ending the call as fast as possible. The problem with the Esplanade project is that they feel it should coincide with all of these business people. People who have wealth already. I just don't believe in that.
Why not build a new community from the bottom up? One where people can commune, bond, and achieve their daily tasks without worry. Not some big shot taxing them thousands or crime every single day on each corner. It can provide new opportunities for lower-class people.

But that would be too hard apparently.

I shut my laptop before standing up and collecting a few papers. I pick up my briefcase bag, put them in, and then add my laptop before shutting it.
I then make sure I have everything before turning the lights off, locking my door, and making my way out to my car. I usually rush at this point. Praying for minimal conversation if any at all, while I make a dash for it.
It was nearing eight o'clock and I still had plans. The gym.
I had gone into work early, so getting any kind of workout in was unrealistic. But I figured I would try to at least get some of my frustration out on a punching bag for a little while until Cree closes up. It wasn't a long drive. And I decided I would change in the gym quickly since I brought my duffle bag.
When I got there, Cree was in his office, looking busy with paperwork of some sort. I let him be and got my station set up so I could do my thing. Think and let go.
The past few weeks have been like a fever dream for me. First Vera ghosted me. Then my mom confesses she has cancer. And I feel stuck working at and lying about this self-deprecating, fake pro-civility I call a job isn't repulsive.
I can't get my mom outta my brain. I'm constantly connected to the thought of her. My mind keeps going back to that day in her kitchen when she told us. I think my soul just kinda stayed there in time because the emptiness is becoming extremely intense.