Bone Diggers - Chapter Thirty Seven

Loading... Chapter Thirty Seven

Signing the contract was pretty straight forward. The mess came when everyone fought over the carcass of what was once his private gaming life. It was agreed upon that they'd stream older footage in the style of an episodic recap.

Exclusive scenes with Amilia were to be divided at Andreah's discretion. Who quickly passed it along to Abigail, who passed it along to her boss. It was eerily close what would have happened to the information if Andreah had finished her bone digging job in the first place. At least instead of pieces being torn off like hungry vultures, they stuck to news of the matter rather than sensationalism. Owen wasn't sure how Andreah convinced them to let that happen. Maybe she annoyed everyone into submission.

But it didn't end there. When Owen's boss heard that Abigail's "tacky TMZ wannabe" site was going to scoop a story another big fuss was made. Everyone in the know wanted full claim on the story. Owen sat silently, headache growing as they fought over his story. Kids with a piñata would have been more reasonable. Once boundaries were drawn across character lines everyone seemed content, for the moment at least.

One perk Owen didn't expect was that their little operation was given an office. They were told they could use it however they wished as long as the gaming area stayed consistent for streams. There was already a couch with a laptop lying on the cushion. He wondered whose for only a moment before Andreah walked in with a coffee in hand, and sat down.

Her pressed white blouse was the second surprise of the day. She had left the top buttons open just enough to show off cleavage. Which reminded him he shouldn't be standing gawking at everything. His eyes dropped, catching fitted slacks paired with heels before he cleared his throat. "You look nice. I don't think I ever seen you dressed up like this before," Owen commented, or complimented. He wasn't sure which he was going for.

"Well, I'm single now."

"Right, cameras and all." Owen pushed past the patch of carpet he had been camping out on. There was no literal dividers between the lounge are and streaming area, but you could see where the out of frame area started from the paint and decor.

"Why can't someone else edit this crap? I'll be the producer-director that yells when they cut something important," Andreah complained, gesturing with her cup at the screen in front of her.

"Well, if you need a break I can take over," Owen offered. He leaned into the stations set up for them to play. Shiny new headgear sat waiting with large but remarkably thin screens in front of them to help record every detail. "As long as you don't yell at me."

Owen looped back around to check out a private little office off the main room, and came back to the heels discarded in front of Andreah. "It's a bullshit double standard, huh?" he asked. Andreah glanced up, not realizing that his conversation as had circled back around to her outfit. "It's a gaming company. Guys can wear whatever they want as long as they don't look homeless. But all the ladies, you all have to look professional all the times."

"That isn't exclusive to the workplace."

Owen nodded to himself. Wouldn't argue with that one. His attention soon waned again. The only real desk in the place was in the private corner office, which had a mini fridge where one might expect a filing cabinet. "This is weird, right?" he asked, and glanced back to Andreah. A short while ago, he didn't want, or even expect, to see her again. And now? Now, they were co-workers. Their stories were literally interwoven again.

Andreah watched the screen for a second before she placed the laptop over to the side. "Yeah. If you want to back out I won't blame you."

"No." Owen couldn't hold her gaze. He looked down to his own sneakers, and the new patch of carpet he'd been hovering over. Was that a stain? What was this room used for before? He exhaled shakily, and crossed his arms over his chest like there was a sudden draft. "I mean, I don't know. If I'm going to play anyways might as well get paid, and help at the same time."

Andreah was silent for a few moments longer than he expected, which made him glance up again. She watched him with a small smile, and Owen sensed she wanted to say something more, but settled with something easier. "Thank you for doing this for me."

Owen shifted his weight, and uncrossed his arms. "I'm doing it for Amilia." That wasn't the complete truth, but again, it was easier.

Her smile disappeared into a tight frown. She tried to cover it by taking a sip of her coffee, offering him only the smallest of nods before she returned to work.

They both ignored the silence of the room, with just the two of them awkwardly trying to get along. It worked, and then it didn't. But this time, Owen knew he was the one to suck the vibrancy out of the room. "I should run a mission."

It was a good thing that he wasn't looking for approval, since Andreah didn't even blink as he went to do a test run. The headgear was lighter, but to be fair, his whole head felt lighter. The newness of everything wasn't a comfort. Andreah sitting so close in this world wasn't doing him any favors either.

When Owen connected, it felt both unreal, and the only right thing in the room. His eyes scanned around, almost expecting to see her. Of course, she wasn't there. That would be even sillier than this rabbit hole he'd fallen into. Amilia wasn't going to magically pop up because Andreah was physically near him.

There was one familiar comfort—Lance. He stood in front of a carriage, rocking back and forth on his heel, idly waiting as a mission trigger point. Daniel approached his friend without much enthusiasm, despite this being the better part of his day. "Where are we being sent?"

Lance pulled out a letter from his breast pocket. The creases were deep from many refolds. "To London," Lance said, and offered the letter to Daniel. "I took the liberty to gather our things since we have to be there before the end of August."

The letter cited the guild wanting extra protection for the treaty that was going to be signed between Spain and Britain. Daniel frowned as he folded the letter back up. This sounded like a job for the knights. Why send two thieves as extra guards?

"Let me guess," Lance said. "You are happy to visit London, but why us?"

"Exactly." Daniel messed up, he didn't understand why he was now the golden boy. "Honestly, the guild mustn't want us around."

"I don't know about that," Lance said, as if to reassure as he got into the carriage. "Surely, they've missed my face."

Before Daniel thought of anything clever to reply, their bags began to rustle. They both sat for a second eyeing the pile that was stacked along one row of seats. "I think you packed a stowaway."

Lance raised a brow, and stood as much as his height allowed in the carriage. He lifted a blanket revealing bright blonde hair that fell around a young woman's face as she looked up at Lance. "Que faites-vous, Chloe?"

"Who?"

"Daniel, meet my friend Chloe." Lance offered his hand out so she didn't have to dig herself out of the pile. When he spoke again, the game switched the native language back to French. It had been so long since Daniel heard people speak fluently that he had to focus to understand. "I told you that you couldn't come with us."

"Should we turn around?" Daniel asked.

Chloe glanced over at Daniel, not understanding his Spanish, then she looked back to Lance with a real urgency that sharpened her brown eyes. "Please let me go with you."

Lance opened his mouth to object again, but ended up just sighing. "She does know English better than we do," he said, now supporting their stowaway.

More than her face, or even her name, that clue connected the dots. She was the woman well read in Shakespeare that Lance mentioned before. "Fine."

"Thank you, thank you, I could just hug you!" Chloe's excitement made her French faster, and Daniel sighed at both the volume and struggle to remember the correct words. "But I'll resist." She pulled her hands to her chest, and sat down next to Lance after he scooted closer to Daniel to make room.

She only added to his annoyance, but Lance was smiling. He watched Chloe like she was a fluttering bird he wanted to playfully paw at. Being part of a trio wasn't something Daniel felt ready for, but if she made Lance happy, he'd learn to deal with it.

As they traveled to England, Lance told the story of how he knew Chloe. Their affluent parents encouraged her to write, and when Lance went back to visit his father, they met. Lance expected Chloe to be shocked when she realized he wasn't the proper son his parents wanted, but she was curious about his real life in Spain. Chloe pushed to hear more stories, citing that she'd only heard of such tales in the books brought back for her.

Such lively company made the chore of traveling by carriage easier. They traveled as far as horses would take them, then needed a boat for the final leg. Daniel's hands started to quake before he realized why he was nervous. The ship reminded him of the one he took to the Canary Islands.

"It's beautiful."

Daniel turned to look at Chloe as she lit up with excitement. It was strange to see someone else so excited about something that was making him doubt not only his sea legs, but himself.

"Don't you agree, monsieur Ortiz?" Chloe asked.

"It's Daniel."

Chloe smiled. She'd known that of course, and simply had been trying to endear herself to him the whole way here. "I've never been on the water before. Is it fun?"

Daniel glanced away and towards the ship. He wasn't sure how to even answer that right now. "It can be."

"Well, then I'm glad I get to travel in such good company," she said, and managed to get Daniel to faintly smile. "That always makes things better."

"It does."

Once they boarded and took off, Chloe's excitement evaporated. Turns out Chloe wasn't a fan of boats after all. Seasickness was a factor she hadn't even considered. After turning green at the gills, Chloe rested her head in Lance's lap. He ran his fingers through her hair while softly singing a French lullaby. "L'était une petite poule grise. Qu'allait pondre dans l'église."

Daniel silently watched. He'd never heard Lance sing in French before and the beauty of it made him not even care what the words meant for a verse or two. When words like hen and eggs repeated he figured they didn't matter anyways.

What warmed his heart one minute made it hurt the next. He was reminded of Isidoro being sick, and Amilia on days when the only way he could help was to simply be around. When land appeared on the horizon, he was more than happy to call it a day.

Owen slipped the headset off, glad that—other than the introduction of a new character—there wasn't too much to pull from this. He stretched back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head before glancing around. This space here was definitely an upgrade from his desk at NY Today, and hopefully, there would come a point where he liked his co-worker at least as much as his other ones.

Andreah crossed her legs onto what now seemed to be her couch. A slight wiggle of her toes appeared as she typed away.

"What are you up to?" Owen asked, curious about what had gained so much of her attention.

"Writing."

"What are you writing about?" Owen swiveled his chair to face her more.

"I can't just tell you all the secrets. Or else they won't need me here after all."

"Well, do I at least get to know what you're doing eventually?"

"Even I don't know what they will highlight from the game. They could end up bringing in Amilia's evil twin sister for all we know, and then I'll have to write about that load of shit."

Owen chuckled as he stood up, and checked his pockets. He wondered for a moment if inviting Andreah on a break was the right thing to do, but he opted not to. He took the elevator down to the main lobby of the building to a cafeteria with a small patio in the back of the building. He noticed some people that worked at fnVR eating together, maybe talking about some work in progress. It dawned on him why they were given their own workplace now. There had been enough leaks already. The last thing anyone needed was further spoilers coming out. Owen wavered as he stared up at a backlit menu, debating on the various sandwiches and soups before settling on a vice for lunch instead.

He walked out to the boxed-in patio before pulling out his pack of cigarettes, lighting one, and bringing a long puff of smoke into his lungs. The small area didn't have much. Some water-damaged patio furniture and potted plants, but it was still something to look at when you needed a break from staring at a screen all day.

Owen's phone gave an unusual chime, it was a theme to something he couldn't ever remember. The only thing that stuck in his head about it was that Cole changed her text tone to custom ringtone one night.

To Owen:

What's up rock star enjoying your first day?

He breathed in smoke, holding it until he almost coughed. That was a loaded questioned.

To Nicole:

It's alright

Since any ashtrays out here had either been swiped or removed to discourage smoking, Owen carefully put his cigarette out when he heard his phone go off in a rapid succession.

To Owen:

yeah being famous must blow

come hang out with us tomorrow I promise no one will know you there~

While the tilde symbol held no official meaning, in this context he read the text in her sing-song voice reserved for when she wanted something. Owen headed back inside, ignoring the text for a moment. He hadn't seen Cole in a while, but he also had been planning on spending his free time at home. He had almost walked all the way back up when he decided to text back.

To Nicole:

ok, but I won't be free until six

When he rounded the corner into their office again, Andreah was hunched over her computer. Instead of typing, her hands were at the sides of her face, eyes closed as she looked frustrated. She flinched when she heard Owen's feet drag as he paused. She exhaled fully and tried to recollect herself in a manner that would look less disordered.

"Everything okay?" Owen asked, taking slow steps into the room, but stopped before he had to decide where to be.

"Yeah," she said, but the low dismal sound of her voice wasn't convincing. She made a face acknowledging the lie they both know she told. "I just can't figure this out. It's just so...complicated? I have a mental block and just—" She cut herself short, closing her eyes to take in another deep breath.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Owen took a spot on the far arm of the couch, closest he'd been yet, but still out of reach.

"No. It's fine. I just feel like I'm buying time, but..." If she hadn't ended the sentence with that last word, Owen would have thought she was done. Instead he waited. "This isn't going to work out. I shouldn't have tried to do this. I should have just lawyered up."

"Why didn't you just spill everything to try and save your ass? You could have bargained with that, maybe."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." Owen moved up on the arm of the couch, and pretended it was the furniture's fault for his discomfort. "Sell me out, like you intended to." He didn't mean to sound harsh, but it was the truth regardless.

"I was trying something new and decided to respect your privacy."

"Oh." He heard Nicole's newest text, but couldn't tear his eyes off Andreah to check it.

"Yeah," she said, and closed up her laptop.

"Thank you," he said, despite his tight confused expression.

She barely nodded as she tipped over her heels to slip them back on and left without saying anything else.

For all his twitching before, he was now still as he stared at the glass doors that connected them to the rest of fnVR. Why would she do that? The only thing he knew was that he wasn't going to chase after Andreah. If anything, he had learned she could handle herself just fine.