Opening Act Ch. 01

Author's note:

Since the publishing of chapter 2 of Parasound, I've had something brewing in my head. The idea was this: a shorter, more concise three-part story that both leads up to the events of Parasound and is fully contained and enjoyable on its own, requiring no prior knowledge from the reader. With Parasound at the end of what I'd consider its first arc, I decided to start bringing this to life. This is the first part of the realization of that idea, with two more parts on the way. My hope is that anyone can fully enjoy Opening Act blind, while Parasound readers will appreciate similar themes and even answers to some questions they may have. That said, the focus is on an entirely new cast of characters.

Please enjoy part one of Opening Act.

Tuesday Morning

Ana walked through one of the big revolving glass doors at the ProdinaMed main campus. On the inside of the building was a huge open atrium. The building looked like a lot of these modern tech giant offices. Sleek. Steel monochrome with the occasional color trying to grab your attention with both hands and scream the name or logo of a new app. ProdinaMed was a med tech company though, so there was occasionally the mention of a new drug or something like that. Ana didn't know about all that. She was shocked to have gotten this job at all. She slacked quite a bit during her last couple years of college, but she still graduated with an IT degree like the rest of her cohorts.

She walked up to the conveyor that led past the metal detector and put her professional-looking backpack on it, along with her phone and other things in her pocket. As she went to walk through the detector, she realized she put her ID badge in the bin that just made it into the machine.

Again.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she turned back towards the security guard standing in front of her.

"Hold your hands up like this over your head," he said with the tone of a man who was saying the same thing for the hundredth time today.

She did as he asked. Arms up, elbows bent, hands open. It felt like going through the airport. When she went to step forward, he held a hand up in front of her.

"ID badge or visitor pass?"

"I accidentally put my badge in the bin again. Should be coming through any second now." She anxiously tapped her foot.

"Again?" He asked sternly.

"I accidentally did the same thing last Friday. It was you that stopped me then too." There were several other security lines that led in and out of the building.

"Ma'am I see a lot of people walk in and out of here."

She really hated being called ma'am. She was 22. Not a wife with two kids. Her bin peaked out of the machine.

"It's right in there, look." She went to point and the guard lifted his hand up higher and squinted accusingly at her. She put her hand back down. The guard looked at the man watching the screen as the bins passed through and he stopped it and grabbed the badge. Several people in line behind her sighed.

"My picture is on it and everyth--"

"She's good," the guard at the machine said. The other guard nodded, put his hand down and stepped aside to let her through. Ana grabbed her things and quickly walked away, eager to remove herself from the embarrassing situation.

As she did she could hear another "Hold your hands up like this over your head" from Mr. Serious.

She got into an elevator and pressed the button labeled '16' before grabbing her ID badge to look at it again. Annalise. Her full name. 'Ana' and the 'Anna' part of Annalise were pronounced 'ah-nah'. Not 'ann-ah.' She felt very strongly about this.

Ana's hair in her picture looked exactly like her own. That might have seemed like a strange thing to notice, but less so when you knew her hair hadn't always been the bleached platinum blonde that hung down to the top of her back. She'd picked the color based off her latest favorite indie artist. Her bangs were cut just barely out of her eyes, sitting in a disheveled line in front of her forehead.

She looked at the remaining physically identifying piece of information left on the ID. Height. Five feet, six inches tall. She could never get a straight answer out of anyone from HR about why that was on there.

Okay Ana, she thought to herself as the elevator began its climb. You're cute, you're nice, you're good at your job.

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. At first, anyway, before she was jumpscared by the poster in front of her face that was stuck to the elevator door.

Staring back at her from behind a layer of plastic was Tom Acron. The CEO of ProdinaMed. He had a big grin on his face, his arms were crossed, and he was wearing a suit. He was always wearing a suit.

Ana fucking hated the suits. Didn't matter what gender wore them. Every walking suit in this place carried themselves with an air of self importance that made her sick. They always seemed to treat everyone around them as if they mattered just a bit less.

She tried to avoid wearing a suit for the same reason she avoided reading whatever dumb quote floated above Jim Acron's head. She wasn't about to start letting herself get indoctrinated into the corporate bullshit. She opted for something less douchey. A patterned blouse and a relatively modest flowing black skirt. The black wedge pumps on her feet with lower ankle straps rounded out her outfit.

The doors of the elevator opened to her floor, finally giving Ana some much needed relief from dickhead's face. She stepped out into the hallway, quickly walking past the older woman and younger man at the reception desk that protected the supply room.

"Hi Gina, hi Bailey!" She said as she zoomed past them.

"Hi Ana!" They responded in unison behind her, only Gina said 'ann-ah' instead of 'ah-nah'. She rolled her eyes at her pronunciation. Bailey was a good kid though. Very polite and thoughtful.

Ana picked up her pace after checking her phone for the time. She was cutting it close again and decided to pick up the pace, working herself up to a light jog. Shit shit shit, she thought. She was so close. People in their cubes around her were starting to take notice of her hustle.

One more turn. Just one more and...

WHAM!

She slammed into a man that was just around the corner, toppling herself and the man over onto the ground. Her body took the brunt of the impact against man and the ground, but her face hit him as well. It all happened so fast, and though the moment she spent assessing her own body felt much longer, the next couple went by just as fast as the impact. She heard the man next to her groaning.

"Oh my god!" She was able to get herself back up fairly quickly, readjusting the small gold horseshoe septum ring in her now sore nose. She grabbed her bag and threw a couple of her own things back into it before starting to grab the man's papers.

"Are you okay? I am so m>so sorry!"

He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a young man. Judging by his mildly annoyed groans and the grey color of his hair, she figured he was around his late 50s, but she was never very good at guessing ages.

She grabbed the man's arm and began to help him up. He avoided her eyes as he rose to her feet, but his face was red with obvious anger.

"Are you okay?" she repeated. He finally looked up and caught her gaze.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was so harsh it made her flinch. "Does this look like a fucking playground?"

"N-no, I just--"

"You just ?hat? Didn't think?" He looked at his watch. It looked expensive and ugly. "Let me guess, you're running late and thought you could cut corners by jogging? Well guess what. That is your problem that you have now made >my problem."

She didn't quite understand what the problem was. Now that he was up and moving, it was very clear that he was not some frail, decrepit old man. He was perfectly fine.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry! I didn't mean to hit you"

"Yeah. You will be sorry when your manager hears about this..." He leaned forward, squinting slightly at her ID badge. "...Annalise."

The way he said her name almost stung. And of course, he pronounced it wrong.

The man stormed away, mumbling something along the lines of 'stupid kids' and Ana slowly made her way to her cubicle. She was already late anyway.

She finally sat down at her desk and signed in, immediately opening the company chat, along with the private chat she had with her friends.

Ana: I'm alive gang

Ana: you can stop worrying now

Two other people began to type, their messages coming in one after another.

Jazz: sup bitch

Vic: we were VERY worried

Ana blew air out of her nostrils and smirked. Talking to Jazz and Vic already made her feel better about her shitty morning.

Vic: heard you took a tumble

Ana: how the fuck did you hear about that already?

Ana: is there a single person in this place that can mind their own damn business?

As Vic typed his response, Ana started lamenting her reputation all over again. It wouldn't be the first time she garnered a reputation as 'the clumsy one'.

Vic: no, i mean i LITERALLY heard it

Vic: sorry, not the best phrasing

Ana sighed, happy to be free of the thought that people were gossiping about her already. She wasn't particularly fond of being perceived.

Ana: you know vic

Ana: you have a real gift for stressing me out

Victor was one of Ana's very good friends. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that he was her best friend. The two of them grew up together. Ana's parents and Vic's mom had been close almost their entire lives and for that reason they were constantly around each other. With the exception of a few years in high school where they drifted apart after an argument (that Ana quite frankly didn't remember the details of), she and Victor were practically inseparable. They not only went to the same college together, but they graduated together. And got a job at the same place.

Vic: wouldnt be myself if i didnt

Ana and Vic's parents always used to joke about when the two of them would get married. The problem was that Ana never saw them that way. The closest they had come to any kind of romantic relationship was when Vic drunkenly confessed feelings for her one night in college. Ana didn't feel the same, didn't feel the physical or mental attraction he did, but Vic didn't hold it against her. As a matter of fact, he found his soulmate the very next week.

Jazz: how touching

Jazz, on the other hand, was a relatively new addition. Her new spot in their little ménage à trois hadn't been created until she won over both their hearts here at Prodina. She was cool and confident, one of the coolest people Ana had ever met. She had lots of interesting hobbies like gardening and tarot reading and rock climbing. Besides running and video games and shitty horror movies, Ana didn't have much herself. The thing that initially bonded them together at first was their favorite genre of music.

The three of them chatted as long as they could before it became apparent that they were bullshitting. Jazz declared their little session over and they all got to work.

Ana's job was not hard. She dealt with simple tech related issues. Asking people to restart their computers, helping them search for emails, resetting passwords. Put simply, it was mindless grunt work. But she didn't mind. Ana didn't have ambitions that reached to the sky. She was happy to be lost in the sea of ProdinaMed employees.

As the time dragged on to just after 2 p.m., Ana received a peculiar email. Before even opening it, she whispered the subject line quietly out loud to herself.

"Congratulations, you've been select..."

Hearing it out loud only helped her confirm what she already knew.

"Bullshit."

She marked the email as spam and trashed it, just as a message came in from her boss.

Mark: Ana, can you please stop by my office as soon as possible?

Her bosses office was unremarkable. The walls of it were mostly glass, leaving little privacy for her emotions. She would have been shocked if he closed the curtains for what was sure to be a quick scolding and prayed this wasn't going to be bad. She pulled the glass door open.

"Ana, come in and sit please."

She did as he asked, slinking into the seat across from his desk.

"Look, I won't dance around it. Late? Again?"

"Yes, I am really sorry. I had some problems with security and--"

"Please," he held a hand up. Mark Valentine was less than 10 years older than her, but acted as if the difference between them was more like 20. "You don't have to make excuses. We both know that a pattern like this is a planning problem. You need to make it to work on time."

Mark sighed.

"I would have avoided this conversation today, but you forced my hand by knocking Jim over. You can't just go barreling into senior directors like that. I honestly would have preferred you just took your time and showed up late. But now, we don't have that luxury. You need to be on time tomorrow. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I understand."

It felt demeaning. Ana always wanted to be the kind of person who stood up for herself. On the walk over, she imagined her self telling Mark to shove it. The unfortunate truth was that she had bills to pay and getting fired from what was easily the best job she ever had would make that difficult.

She stood up and walked towards the door before realizing she had forgotten to push her chair back. She she turned around, Mark's gaze moved up from her lower body to her face. They stared at each other for a brief moment. One of his hands was on his lap behind the desk.

They studied each other's body language in a stand-off that must have lasted half as long as it felt.

"Have a good day, Ana."

Ana left, beelining from her boss's office straight to her desk. Her face felt hot. She was failing miserably at hiding her embarrassment and disgust. He was fucking checking me out, she said to herself. The fucking asshole was staring at my ass.

She sat down into her chair with an audible thump before taking a look at her computer screen. The same spam email was back in her mailbox. She deleted it again and got back to work, which for her at this moment meant trying desperately to not to punch her monitor.

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned forward, holding back the angry tears that were threatening to flow from her eyes. Another notification sound came from her computer. She looked up.

"Oh my god, really?" She mumbled to herself through a lump in her throat.

It was the same email she deleted earlier. She decided she would bite, unable to understand how they kept getting though the email filter.

Subject: Congratulations! You've been selected!

Congratulations! You've been selected to take part in a special research program with the Audio Therapy Department based on your employee profile!

Ana read through the rest of the email, finding a bit of comfort in the act as she felt herself calming down. It wasn't until the end that she came across a detail that gave her pause. She stopped, considered, and then opened her chat with Vic and Jazz.

Ana: okay

Ana: first of all, i have something i need to tell you both in person later

Jazz: something good i hope?

Ana: traumatizingly bad actually

Vic: oof

Ana: you don't know the half of it

Jazz: is that even a word?

Vic: idk think its like a meme thing

Jazz: traumatizingly?

Vic: oh thought you meant me

Ana had to stop herself from physically palming her forehead.

Ana: stay with me here children

Ana: did either of you get this email?

Jazz: what email?

Vic: no

Strange, she thought to herself.

Ana: about the study?

Jazz: nope

Vic: nada

Ana: well I was selected for some research study thing

Ana: and get this

Ana: they'll give me $2000 for it

Jazz: what?? how do i sign up?

Ana: i dont know

Ana: it says i was selected based on my employee profile

Jazz: fuck

Jazz: how do i get on the hot girl email list?

Ana: maybe its because im new? idk

Jazz: then why not vic?

Ana couldn't help but wonder why she had been selected. If she had been close with anyone other than Vic and Jazz at work she imagined she would have asked around.

Ana: no clue

Ana: but you can bet im doing that shit

Jazz: what is the study?

Ana: idk but it's literally in audio

Ana: i don't care if they make me listen to polka for 8 hours straight

Ana: we can talk about it more later

Jazz: happy hour?

Ana: happy hour :)

Ana got back to work. After about fifteen minutes, a notification popped up on her screen with a message from Vic in their chat.

Vic: happy hour!

"...and then when I turned around to push the chair back, he was staring, and I mean staring at my ass!"

Ana took a swig of her cheap beer.

"What the fuck?" Jazz said.

Ana, Vic, and Jazz were sitting in a booth at their favorite hole-in-the-wall bar not far from her apartment. It was dirty inside, poorly decorated, and the toilets always had a 50/50 chance of working.

Ana loved it.

"Did you tell HR?"

"No, Vic, I didn't tell HR. It's not like good ol' PM is gonna do anything about it. There's no proof and they'd sooner kick me to the curb than put him under investigation."

"You're telling me there are no cameras that caught him checking you out?"

"It's just not worth it. Besides... as a girl you just kind of get used to guys looking at your ass all the time. This particular one just felt gross."

"Amen, sister," Jazz responded, taking a swig of her own beer and looking over at Vic. "Don't think we haven't caught you looking too Victor."

He laughed nervously and took a drink. Ana decided to avoid eye contact with both of them, certain that her face had turned a few shades redder.

"So..." Vic said, clearly trying to change the subject. "...what's the deal with this study thing?"

"Honestly? No clue. There were practically no details beyond what I told you. Other than that it starts tomorrow at 11. Seems like the whole thing is pretty hush-hush."

"Bet an NDA is involved. PM loves their NDAs," Jazz said"

"I heard Audio got some kind of big contract. I don't know when but the going rumor is the feds right now," Vic added.

"Okay Mr. Top Secret," Jazz teased.

"Well I don't give a fuck. All I know is that I'm gonna take that money and go on a vacation far away from Eyeballs Valentine as soon as I can."

Jazz and Vic laughed at the absurd nickname and Ana took in the feeling of just spending time with them. She was happy to have friends that she could comfortably call her family. After sufficiently admiring their happy faces, she walked up to the bar and ordered their table another round.

Ana loved the idea of self-sufficiency, but she wasn't an idiot. She asked Vic to walk her home, which seemed to be the right call, seeing as she was having trouble walking straight. She held onto Vic's arm as they passed the familiar sights and sounds of the city on their way back to her building.

"Thank you for... walking me home."

"Of course, Ana. Any time," he was babying her a little bit with his voice but she barely noticed it.

"You're... like... ssssuch a good guy."

He laughed and didn't respond.

"Nicki is just... so lucky! She knowsss that, right?"

Vic laughed again. Ana could hear herself slurring her words but she couldn't control it. She knew how ridiculous she sounded but kept going.