Plastic Hearts (Being Edited)

Chapter 9: The Stakeout: Part 1

The cab driver took an abrupt turn into the next lane, as he drove me to work, which I'm likely going to be late to since I'd assumed two extra minutes for snooze time wouldn't elongate into a whole hour. Thanks to a mild disease I suffer from called procrastination. Procrastination may not be a scientifically proven disease yet, however that's how it appears in my books.

I hastily rushed into the building through the narrow hallway and into the The Dirty Closet's HQ or the unofficial term our hideout. I caught sight of one of my colleagues sitting around the coffee table in the main lobby drinking coffee, though I still didn't know his name.

There was nothing off about him, nothing that gave me the hint that we would bump heads together. However, our styles was definitely going to be a conflict of interest. I was more of the classy type and he seemed more like the hipster type, judging by his choice of clothing.

He'd shaved the sides and back of his hair, except for the top, he'd brown cornrows which he tied into a bun. His eyes were brown also and looked out of it, like he was on conscious. His left ear was pierced, which distracted ones attention from his lifeless eyes, as did his beard which looked like a forest. His skin was tanned and looked like he was of Mexican descent.

"What's your name again?" His accent unconsciously confirmed my theory. It was slightly raspy though very subtle and soothing.

"Gwen"

"Gwen" he let the name roll off his tongue, as if he we're trying familiarise himself with it. "Well, Dex said he wanted to see you when you came in"

"Thanks, uh"

"Mordecai" he introduced himself. "But you can call me Mordy"

I smiled at him while I nodded at his comment, bearing what he said in mind. I made my way to Dex's door then knocked on it and pushed it open.

"You're late" he didn't waste any time.

"I got here at 10:01" I protested against his comment.

"Thanks for confirming my point" he remarked.

Technically I was late considering I had to be here by ten, but by one minute. The fact that he had to mention it was simply just ridiculous. It's almost as if he's trying to intentionally make me look unprofessional and like I don't give a damn. So he could have an excuse to pester me about it later on.

"Now that that's out of the way, I can inform you that your mission was not a success"

"How exactly is that possible? I set up all the cameras" I confusedly explained to him. "Right"

"That's what I thought" he agreed. "Until, I went home and connected the cameras to his network, and noticed that you're an absolute idiot" he rudely remarked. "Almost all of the cameras are placed in the most stupidest of places, let alone are upside down and for some unknown reason there's none in the kitchen"

"Firstly, how was I supposed to know that the tiny cameras even had a right way to be set up, you didn't tell me" I pleaded the first part of my argument. "Secondly, please tell me what business a guest has in someone else's kitchen?" I asked Dex though he stared at me blankly with a bored expression on his face. "None" I answered the question for him, since he shown no intention of doing so.

"That still doesn't change the fact that you failed... for the third time... in a row" he sighed heavily.

I was going to be fired. I didn't entirely hate the job so i knew it was going to hurt when I heard those two words. I'm aware of how sinister that may sound, considering the type of job it was but that doesn't mean I changed my view on the job. I had a part-time job once at Curry's for the summer of my senior year of high school and this is how they went about firing me. Maybe, not as aggressive but they dished out all my mess ups then hit me with the finishing blow.