Character Development

Chapter 1

Salutations!

TW: swearing

Enjoy!

Knock, knock, knock.

I groaned, rolling over to check the time. Who was knocking on my door at seven in the morning on a Sunday? I stumbled out of bed, pulled on a bathrobe, and drowsily went to get the door.

I was greeted with two people in blindingly white suits and blue tinted glasses. "Good morning. Are you Mr. Cody Thatcher?" the shorter one with pale skin and dark hair asked.

"That's me," I grumbled. "Who are you?"

"My name is Agent Mika, and this is Agent Taran," she replied, gesturing to the taller one with darker skin and shorter hair. "We're from the Developers, and we'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I don't suppose I have a choice? Or that you could come back at a more reasonable hour?"

"Did you know that almost 80% of America is awake right now? It actually is quite a reasonable hour," Agent Taran said.

"And no, you don't have a choice," Agent Mika added.

I sighed. "Come in, then." I walked inside and they followed. I gestured to the spotless white couch in the sitting room. "Have a seat, don't make a mess. I'll be back in a couple of minutes when I'm more... presentable." I gave them a quick glare to let them know that their choice of arrival time - I didn't give two shits if 80% of America was awake right now, I wasn't part of that 80% - was the reason I wasn't fully prepared, and it was entirely their fault.

Five minutes later, I'd donned a brown suit and black tie and joined the Agents in the sitting room. "Alright," I said with a sigh as I sat in my favorite white armchair. "What do you want to ask me, and can we get this done as quickly as possible? I have things to do."

The two Agents had sat next to each other, Agent Taran with a blue and white tablet in his hand. Agent Mika nodded. "First off, what is your name?"

"Cody Thatcher. But you already knew that."

Agent Mika gave me a quick glare. "This will go much faster, Mr. Thatcher, if you simply answer the questions and spare us any excess lip."

I sighed a little more dramatically than necessary. "Carry on, then."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four. No, twenty-five, now. Birthday and all that." I'd almost forgotten I was twenty-five today. Happy birthday to me, I guess.

"Are you employed?"

"Recently finished college, so no, not yet. Looking for something that's not a waste of my time."

Agent Mika raised an eyebrow. "Unemployed at your age? In this economy? How are you affording all of this?" She gestured to the lavish sitting room.

"I have some familial ties."

"Ah. Rich family, then?"

"Mhm."

"How is your relationship with your family?"

"Alright. They send me money and otherwise leave me alone, I do my own thing and leave them alone."

"It sounds rather strained."

"What are you, a therapist?"

"No extra lip, Mr. Thatcher," Agent Taran reminded me before Agent Mika could lose her cool.

"Fine. Next question."

"How about your friends, Mr. Thatcher?" Agent Mika continued.

"Haven't met any yet."

"And you went to college for how long?"

"Four years."

"And no friends?"

I shrugged. "Waste of my time."

"You keep saying that."

"Hm?"

"That things are a waste of your time."

"Because some things are. Why should I do something if it's not worth it to me?"

"But don't you get lonely without any friends?"

"No? I'm perfectly fine on my own. I have better things to do with my time."

Agent Mika and Agent Taran exchanged a glance. Agent Taran nodded once, turned off the tablet, and stood up alongside Agent Mika. "That will be all, Mr. Thatcher. Your hand, please."

"What?"

A black marker appeared in Agent Mika's hand. "Your hand, please."

"Can't you write whatever down on a piece of paper?"

If looks could kill, Agent Mika would've killed me right there. "Your hand, Mr. Thatcher. Last warning," she said through gritted teeth.

I sighed, stood, and offered her the back of my hand. She wrote an address and time down on my skin with the cold marker. "Please meet us at that place and time tomorrow, Mr. Thatcher."

"Can't you just come back here?"

"You will meet us at that location and time tomorrow, Mr. Thatcher, and that is final. Do you understand?"

I rolled my eyes with a sigh and nodded. "Yeah. Whatever. Get out of my house."

The Agents left promptly and I looked at my hand.

Central Park, The Blockhouse

12:00 PM

Although I'd lived in New York City my whole life, I'd never really been to Central Park. What was a blockhouse, anyway?

And what the hell did "The Developers" want with me there?

[Word Count: 805]

Thanks for reading!

Hope you enjoyed, see you next time!

~ Matteo