Somewhere Only We Know

XLIII - Not Today, God

11:06 p.m., Saturday

"I don't know, jackass, why don't you figure it out yourself since you're the standing head of the team?" Keith shouted, his voice cracking through the speaker.

I rubbed my temples, swiping away the call as I watched the digital clock on my laptop.

"Don't you swear at me, Keith. Right now, I can fire your ass." She paused, shouting at a poor assistant outside of the call. "I can fire every single person on this godforsaken call. If this issue doesn't get resolved by tomorrow, you are all out!" Regine shouted, her face angry, filling the screen. It was clear she had her hands full, walking around the main office with a cup of coffee in her other hand.

I watched as everyone but her and Keith disconnected from the call, notifications flooding the chat, 'Maria left the meeting,' 'Jason left the meeting,' and so on.

I unmuted, emphasizing and elongating my sigh. "Listen, it's really no issue; I can compose a simple statement about this and post it in a few hours."

Keith cleared his throat, a sign that he's going to say stupid shit to one-up Regine. "If I may, Mr. Davidson—"

"Yu, Keith. Do not call me that," I said, seriousness flashing on my face.

"Right, my apologies. Mr. Yu, with all due respect, it is a large issue that will cause great damage to your next show," he stated, tilting his head, similar to a puppy dog, I'd say.

I chuckled, glancing at both of them. However, they seemed far too serious to humor me. I sighed in defeat, taking their silence as a sign of reappraisal.

"Fine, what do you have in mind? It's late; quickly," I said, melting into the hardwood chair I swiped from the kitchen.

"What I have in mind is a public statement. There's a sizable charity falling through in Brighton this coming week," Keith began, making me furrow my eyebrows. Ordinarily, Regine would never let Keith pitch first.

"Alright, go on," I replied, leaning closer to the laptop. "What we have in mind, by the way," Regine continued, rolling her eyes. "As you know, we work very hard for you, Ronan, and we have collectively decided on this individual pitch."

My eyes noticeably twinkled at the thought of my team working together. "Wow. I'm glad you finally see eye to eye, given all the mayhem you two have caused over the years we've worked together."

Regine laughed, loud enough to cut off her audio for a second. "Don't worry, Ronan, I still hate every single person working under me."

She continued, clearing her throat, "Anyway, we're waiting on an email from Christian Prior to approve your position as the chosen speaker for their charity." 

I blinked. "Christian Prior? Sounds familiar. Have we worked with him before?"

"Christian Cruz Prior, best-selling author, 2009, Executive Director of  'Not Today, God,' a worldwide exhibition on suicide prevention—"

"He wrote that stupid book," I said, laughing quietly.

"Sorry? What stupid book?" Keith asked.

I swatted at the air. Every time I speak to Keith, I feel my brain slowly shrinking.

"'Keep Going, Main Character'?" Regine interfered. "I saw you have a copy, a deteriorating one at that."

I grimaced, shifting in my seat. "I read it a long time ago."

She shook her head, smiling brightly. "Well, that's great news! You already have an idea of his works; this should make things less difficult."