Simular Beings

Metamorphosis

The Creator could feel it. Finally. The boy was changing. The experiment was progressing smoothly. And all he had to do was give him time. All he had to do was wait. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"I'll get you back..." He was a few steps closer to his goal. All the pieces of the puzzle were mapped out, ready to be placed. The photo of his mother on his simulated desk stared back in all her former smile and splendor. "It's only a matter of time—"

"Gunther!" Azan slammed through the doors to his simulated office. "Where have you been?!"

"Don't call me that." The Creator looked up, annoyed by the constant, unplanned intrusions. "What now?"

"I was looking everywhere for you! Did you turn off your phone again?"

He despised unforeseen interruptions. That was why any means of communication had always been cut off. If it was important, he knew that somebody would come to notify him again. Whether it was difficult for them to find him or not was none of his concern.

"Why do you make it so damn hard for me? I'm the CEO of Simular and you're the key to all of it! I need you to respond on time!"

"And I'm responding now."

"Now's too late!" Azan wildly swung his arms around. "Jesus Christ!" He groaned, teeth clenched hard between all the furrowed brows and wrinkles. "Is this about that project? That-that anomaly? You have to get a hold of yourself!"

"I'm completely sane."

"I'm not talking about that! Please, can't you just let me do my job just this once?" he pleaded. "It's really not that hard."

"What have I done that makes it so hard for you?" He didn't like how Azan wanted so much from him. Why did he have to change for somebody else's convenience? "I'm not going to change my ways so that you have it easier."

"So fucking stubborn," Azan cried. "Just trust me, yeah? I got this. The least you could do is answer the damn phone! Please. I'm just trying to make our dream come true."

"I know that."

"I told you! I even reminded you that an annual board meeting was coming up. I told you that you needed to be there!" He slammed his fist on the desk. The usual nonchalant demeanor was nowhere to be seen. "I managed to push the meeting back, so I'm begging you. Promise me you'll be there this time."

The Creator was all the more annoyed. Azan could've just let it go. Nothing ever even happened in the meetings. And even if they'd wanted something to happen, without his approval as the majority shareholder, it wouldn't. He wouldn't let it.

"Promise me!"

"Fine." It was better than continuing this conversation. He knew better than to try and argue stupid nothings with Azan. "I promise."

"You better keep your word." Azan pointed his finger at him, his face still contorted and red. Then he stormed off into wherever he'd come from. Mild scents of coffee and smoke finally faded with his departure. How he could smell like that even within the simulation, he would never figure out.

The Creator shook his head in disappointment. He'd always done it his way. Nobody would ever change that. Why, then, was Azan now getting in his way?

...

"Bread?" the Creator called out. "I need you to do something for me." He pulled out a painting. It was a portrait of his own mother holding a single dandelion in her hand. Her solemn gaze still reminded him of the disappointments he'd given her throughout the years. "Tell me," he said. "What do you feel when you see this?"