Next Generation (Paused)

4

May 6, 2202

Fremont County, Colorado

"Never again." Magnus laughs at me as I rant about the physical once again. It has been a week and I feel like I will never recover from the prostate exam. Dr. Quentin checked my heart rate, blood pressure, reflexes and other factors, but then he had to check my prostate. I battled for my life, but before I could activate my trait, they knocked me out. He said I had a, "very healthy" prostate. I shiver in disgust as I think about it.

"What did Ole Will assign you to?" He asks, calming down, wiping the wetness from his eyes. We sit down together in our cell. Magnus sits up on his bunk while I occupy one of the chairs.

"Laundry." We work in order to buy stuff from commissary or from Sam or Joey. If you wanted something from the inside of the building, then you would go talk to Sam, but Joey covers the outside world. It was a nice system they had going on in here to say the least.

"Really? I thought you would be put into the warehouse." I detect the disappointment in his voice.

"What? Do you work in the warehouse?" I ask. He nods.

I chuckle and shake my head, "We already share a cell with each other, I don't see the problem. But hey, if you get off early, I invite you to come help with these filthy clothing?"

"Aye man, you make it like I'm in love with you or something bruh?" He laughs.

"You actin' like it. Like a puppy whose owner is leaving the house to go work."

"I ain't no dog son. You are just the only friend I got here." He confesses and I take a moment to process what he said. I pat him on the back.

"It's cool. I don't have any friends either." I grin at him and he shakes his head while chuckling.

"That's s-" The ringing of a bell goes off and the intercom comes on, telling us it is our work period. We both get up and dap each other off before going to our separate destinations. I pass other people as they go to their own stations before I finally make it to the laundry room. I open the door and am greeted with a strong back facing me. He doesn't turn around as the door closes, folding some clothes into a pile as the washing machine goes on. The room is a plain white with four evenly separated washing machines on the right side of the wall and four identical dryers on the opposite side. They have a long metal table with freshly washed and dried clothes being folded by the guy and in front of the table, they have two large identical baskets, filled with clothes while the other two are to the right of me, empty. The washing powder is on a shelf above the filled bins.

After I survey the room, I wait for him to say something, but he stays in his own world. I clear my throat, "Uh aye man, am I in the right room?" He stops and tilts his head to look at me. The first thing I notice is his dragon tattoo that runs from the side of his head to his neck. Not this dude.

"You stupid or something?" Xavier has an edge to his voice as he says this. I raise an eyebrow at him, surprised.

"I don't think so, why do you ask?" I respond, wondering why he's in here... folding clothes? He of all people should be in the warehouse.

"How am I supposed to know if you supposed to be in here?" He stands at his full height and I can't help to think that he should be chopping wood in a forest while fighting grizzly bears in Idaho. I slide my hands in my pant pocket and took out a piece of paper, holding it out to him. "Sergeant William told me I was assigned to laundry and the other guy in here will explain to me how everything works, which I'm guessing is you?"

His eyes look me up and down before coming over, taking the paper. He reads over the paper, "So you're the bastard he was talking about earlier." He drops the paper and I watch it float slowly to the floor as he turns around. This dude. I feel my nose flare in anger and I take a breath, calming myself down. I quickly snatch the paper off the floor and stuff it in my pocket. "It's pretty simple." He starts his lecture about how to wash the clothes and how to fold the prison uniforms. The prison provides one spare uniform, a white cotton undershirt, a plain gray jacket and wool sweatshirt for the winter. Each uniform has a prisoner's name and their number sewed into it. If someone does their time, the tag is easily removed and given to the next unlucky soul. He explains that I can buy other clothing from commissary and they can't take that off of you during a strip. Later, we end up folding the clean uniforms as we wait for the washer and dryer to finish their cycle. I stand a few feet away from him as I do my pile.

I can't help the bad vibes he gives me. My body is tense and stiff, on guard while I catch myself watching him through my peripheral vision. Magnus said he put two guys in a coma for taking his lunch? I don't want to get on this guy's bad side. "Want me to pull your eyes from your skull?" I snap back to reality and turn my head to look at him. He's still focused on folding his uniforms and I almost just shrug it off until he repeats it again.

"Do you got a problem with me?" I stop folding and turn to face him, clearly aggravated by him. He stops, too, but he doesn't turn towards me. I always had anger issues since a child, but Ray helped me overcome them since anger and my trait don't go well with each other. However, my father never let people run over him and I'm doing the same.

"Be a man and solve it instead of talking under your breath like a kid," I let my frustration roll off me in waves as I wait for him to respond.

"You was staring at me like you want something, so what's up?" He rests his elbows on the table as he looks at me, unbothered and calm.

"Aye son, I'm all for it, just do something and you'll see what's up," is all I say, turning from him, back to my clothes. I'm already over this. If he has a problem, we can always solve it peacefully or violently.

"Most people who say something to me don't live to see the next day," he threatens.

I move my head and raise an eyebrow at him, "I'm still here though."

It's tense in the room as we stare at each other for a moment. The washer and dryer goes off after a while, signaling that their cycle is over. I shake my head, dismissing the encounter, "Whatever man." We work silently together after our argument until the bell rings, the intercom telling us to get back in our cell. As I'm walking, his shoulder bumps mine harshly and he slides in front of me, walking out the room. I shake my head disappointedly. I walk back to the cell and Magnus is sitting on his bunk, reading a book. He looks up from it and marks his page before turning towards me. I shake my head at him and climb up on the top bunk.

"That bad?" I hear him ask as I cover my eyes with my arm, sighing deeply.

"That bad," I respond simply.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offers and I tell him what happened.

When I finish explaining, it grows quiet in the room, despite the noises from the other prisoners.

"You telling me that Xavier Scott is folding clothes... in the laundry room?" He finally asks.

"That's the only thing you got out of all I said?"

"I got what you said, but I wouldn't expect a dude like him to be stuck folding clothes. But hey, maybe it will brighten up tomorrow."

I lay on my side and close my eyes, "Maybe."