6

THEODORE

I think I’m going insane.

“Are you listening to me, Theo?”

My mother’s shrill voice risks bursting my ear drum as I rip out the drawers annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter absentmindedly as I search through the cupboards.

I make a mess, not caring about my mother screaming at me at the other end of the line.

Where did I put them?

I could swear I had put them in one of those drawers.

“Don’t ‘yeah, yeah’ me,” she screams. “Can you even imagine how I am feeling right now?”

I swallow a groan as it’s always just about her feelings.

“I can’t even look Margerie in the eyes anymore. Do you even realize how seeing her in church was? This is so embarrassing,” she continues, making me lean against the kitchen counter, propping myself up onto my hands in pure desperation.

I don’t think I can do this.

How can I face him?!

Taking a deep breath, I just let her ramble along, waiting for a break to say something as well. “You have insulted everyone and your language was awful. This is not how we raised you, Theodore. We taught you better than that. I don’t know why you can’t be more like your brother and finally get your life together and drop this ghastly behaviour.”

“Yes, Mom. I’m trying my best, Mom… I-”

Throwing my head back, I pull my phone away from my ear to see that she has indeed cut the call, interrupting what I was saying.

“My Mom. There’s no one else quite like my Mom,” I sing along as I rummage through another drawer.

I sigh, letting my shoulders slump. “Where the fuck did I put them?”

I’m totally convinced that I put my medication in one of the drawers in the kitchen.

But now that I have practically taken apart the entire apartment, I’m convinced that I’m going insane.

As if it wasn’t enough that I would soon be working for the man I was fantasizing about practically every night, or rather morning, since I arrived in New York, I had to crawl at a lot of people’s feet to beg for forgiveness because of a strange hacker.

What has become of me?

Realizing that I totally lost it, I was determined to take the pills my doctor gave me to ease up the sleep paralysis and start my new job without any strange fantasies.

But I have looked everywhere for them, and they are nowhere to be found.

Fuck!

Getting them was already a shock as it literally drained my last funds, so calling the doctor again is out of the question.

I groan, slumping into my couch and passing my hands over my face.

Damn it!

They can’t possibly have disappeared into thin air.

Shifting in my seat, I sigh at the feeble stinging I can still feel in my ass.

I really need to stop using the toy.

In fact, it keeps getting worse and the dreams about my soon-to-be boss returned to the cozy little sleep paralysis interactions while I never had such an intense dream again.

Crossing my arms, I humph, feeling disappointed. I first thought that the toy would trigger the dreams, but it didn’t get him to resurface in my mind.

I’m so stupid.

I should stop wanting to fantasize about him, but I’m so hooked that it seems like he is the best drug available on the market.

And I’m the fucking addict waiting for the overdose to hit him.

The vibration of my phone gets me to jump up, tearing me out of my thoughts and I groan before I take the call. “Baxter.”

I’m already rubbing my eyes exhausted, waiting to be insulted again as I expect another angry relative to be behind the anonymous number as a high-pitched and happy voice reaches my ears. “Oh, hi. This is Gilda, calling from the Hel Company. How are you doing?”

“Hey, Gilda,” I sit up in my seat, clearing my throat. “I’m great. How are you?”

She giggles happily as she rustles through what I guess to be my file. “I’m so glad I reached you so quickly, Mr. Baxter. I’m just calling you to provide you with a bit of information for your first day.”

“That’s great, thank you so much. And please… Call me Theo,” I say, making her giggle again.

“Gladly,” she responds and I can literally see her bouncing in her seat.

She definitely will be gone soon.

But her good mood is addicting and I find myself smiling brightly.

She goes through the agenda of my first day as well as some basic rules for the normal work day. She informs me that I will be starting on Monday morning at nine and about where I will have to go to get my access.

We stay on the phone a bit longer, engaging in light small talk and we end up arranging a lunch date on my first day.

She is about to hang up with the promise that she will have a lot to fill me in on to allow me to do my job the best way to keep it for long, allowing me to gather all my courage to ask the single question that has been burning on my tongue for days.

“Hey, Gilda… Sorry,” I start, waiting for her reaction.

“Yes?” she asks, ready to help me out in her usual friendly way. “What is it?”

Clearing my throat, I can feel my ears heat up. “Can I ask you something? Maybe it’s stupid, so I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry. You can ask me anything,” she says in a sing-song.

Now or never.

“Would- Would you mind telling me what the N. stands for?”

I gulp while I wait for her to answer. “The N.?”

“Uh-huh. The boss's name,” I elaborate, feeling my throat go dry.

“Oh, sure, sorry,” she giggles, and I hear her clicking around on her keyboard. “Nathanael.”

I can’t describe it but his name hits me like a powerful wave.

Nathanael?

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “But he doesn’t want people to be casual with him. He is very old-fashioned.”

Gasping lowly, I nod repeatedly, even if she can’t see me. “Don’t worry. I know my place. But I was curious. Well, See you on Monday.”

“See you on Monday,” she confirms before hanging up.

Slumping back into my couch, I take a deep breath, pushing it back out. “Nathanael.”

I let the sound of it dissolve on my tongue and I scrunch my nose.

“How totally not sexy. I can’t possibly get off on that one.” Shrugging to myself, I get up. “Well, at least the name fits an asshole like him.”