BACKUP

CHAPTER ONE REWRITE

"Ready?" Demetria asked as she handed me an off-brand coffee. A third the price and just a strong. I drank it nervously, hoping not to answer her question. Was I ready? No. Not in the slightest. I'm eighteen and I've just finished education- finally- and now I'm on my way to my first job. It's just a crappy office job making people drinks and making photocopies, that sort of thing. I just want to start making money so I can move out at some point.

"Well?" Demetria nudged.

"I would rather sell a kidney." I said honestly which made Demetria laugh.

"You'll do great." Demetria took a sip from her own drink which was some sort of coffee-shop-jargon that I didn't quite understand but it had been considerably more expensive than mine which she bought from another shop down the road from the more expensive coffee shop. I don't care for brands, I think the quality should speak for itself.

"There's an induction so there will be several people starting today." I made small talk. "They're trying to grab as many school leavers as they can at the moment."

"We're desperate, poor, and we get excited by the idea of free biscuits." Demetria added with a grin.

"Damn straight." I tapped my empty cup against hers.

"I've got to run, I'll call you at five." Demetria took my empty cup as we reached the building. Demetria was one of those fitness fanatics and managed to get a part-time job teaching kids karate last year, and since we had finished school she had been promoted to full-time while working in the gym and continuing to teach kids karate. She worked at the local youth-centre-slash-gym and it was perfect for her.

"Cool." I said nonchalantly as I walked into the ground floor of the rest of my life, leaving my best-friend to walk to work on her own. Then again, if anything were to happen she was more than capable of making a grown-man cry.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asked. It was reasonably quiet apart from muttering of old men around a coffee table with newspapers. Probably waiting for a meeting. Behind the receptionist desk was three doors with a key-swipe pad on each of them. There were three security guards hanging around in their dull grey uniforms. (Alfie/Khan/Rico)

"Hi, I'm Mercy. I'm meant to be starting today." I said casually.

"Mercy..." The receptionist began to flick through a stack of paperwork. "You're the new assistant on floor fourteen, right?"

"That's right."

"There's another assistant on floor fourteen starting today. Good guy. Really chatty."

"Do you remember his name?" I asked.

"It was like Vincent-something." The receptionist scratched her hair.

"Vincent-Tracy Hunter?" I asked and she nodded. "I know him. He is really nice."

"Okay, do you know where you're going?"

"Floor fourteen." I said.

"Got your key card?" She asked.

"Yes-" I patted my pocket where my phone was and my key card was in my phone case, but my phone was not in my pocket. "No, I apparently do not." Demetria took her key card to try keep her safe.

"Right." Her face fell. "Well it's a security company, so we can't just let you up without any credentials."

"So what do I do?" I asked, freaking out internally.

"I'd have to call your line manager. Floor fourteen... that would be Mr Henrickson."

"Oh okay." I wiped a layer of sweat from my forehead. I was expected upstairs already, and Vincent-Tracy was already up there. This was not a good first impression.