Chapter Text
So there is this guy over at Allsafe. At first you think he's just a plain coding-monkey, but you notice the way Gideon treats him despite his clothes (they're not horrible, just too casual, and you imagine a conversation between Gideon and him about it that didn't go too well), and his less than welcoming attitude. He's clearly valuable. When you look over his shoulder at his screen, you understand that he's probably the smartest guy in the room. Yourself included.
When you talk to him you realize he's not deliberately rude or arrogant like you first believed. He's just scared. You mistake him for being nervous around management and you offer him a smile for comfort and put your hand his shoulder. That only makes it notably worse. He looks up at you with his wide, worried eyes and you realize his fear runs much deeper than suits. He seems thankful when you retract your hand and you decide to ask someone about his name.
And why the fuck doesn't he work for us?
"That weird Allsafe techie? Are you serious?" Tom, the thick as brick assistant-manager-of-blah annoys you like nothing else when he raises questions like that, but you manage to keep your mouth shut. But yes, you're very serious.
***
You know the devil. It's not a metaphor. Her name is Joanna, and she lives in your house. You love her more than anything you've ever loved, but she is evil, truly, yet you love to have her at your side. She encourages you to do things you never would have done if it wasn't for her. She builds you in her image piece by piece and you let her, cause you know how powerful you'll end up at the end of this road. You know that your weak days are already fewer and fewer, your breakdowns further in between. You'll be strong eventually.
***
That weird Allsafe-guy is named Elliot and it's not hard to find his address. Even with your painfully expensive suit and slick hair, you're not all management and money, you know your shit too.
You're not really sure why you go to his apartment, but you have several explanations in your head. One for yourself that you can't really say out loud without it sounding a bit strange (so you don't), one for your bosses when you've managed to talk him into working for you and it proves a success ("yeah, I saw this guy had potential right away") and one for the fictional Joanna in your head ("han kommer att hjälpe oss att ta över värden, älskling") since you haven't really told the real Joanna.
He opens the door in black jeans, a hoodie, and that look. Like every single moment of his life is the scariest thing that has ever happened to him. He doesn't say anything but you're fairly certain he wants you to go away. You tell him with your calmest voice that you have to talk. You can tell he doesn't want to, but he lets you in.
***
It's hard to explain exactly what happens to you that night. It starts out like a normal conversation (albeit fairly one sided) about money, "possibilities" and "your future" but you understand from his blank stare that you're not reaching him. At all.
You stop to try a different approach. You need to reach him. You know you can. It's important. So you start talking about yourself instead. How you got into computers. Your idealistic childhood dreams. How they've changed now, of course, because you're all grown up and you know things cannot be the way you wanted then, but - well, those dreams were important to you. They made you work hard.
You scan him for changes, but you get nothing. He's hard to read. You're starting to worry he might be harder to get to than you anticipated. You finish your well-formulated train of thoughts, and finishes with a "Please tell me your thoughts on this, Elliot."
Then, slowly, he starts to turn. The changes are subtle, but significant. His posture changes. He straightens up, pulls his shoulders back. His eyes are different. This is unexpected. At first you're impressed. You give him a nod of approval, and gets a happy, tingly feeling that you weren't wrong after all, you were right. He needs to follow you. You'll do good things together.
Then he tilts his head just a little bit and looks at you with eyes that are both wild and focused and makes you think about a serpent or a dragon and you almost expect him to turn completely, grow a body full of hair in a second and run away howling at the moon, or at least flash a pair of healthy fangs. But he doesn't, he just stares so far into your soul it almost hurts before he starts talking.
You love Joanna, you really do, she's the only reason why you don't run off screaming the first five minutes. Because he takes all the stuff you've told him, picks it apart and turns it back on you. All these things you work so hard every day to deny and forget, he digs them up and makes you look at them. You can barely believe your eyes, this can't be the same guy, this has to be someone else. An evil twin that wants to save the world from you and everyone like you and everything you've created. You manage to keep your mask for a while, you actually surprise yourself with fierce arguments despite feeling like you're gonna lose, but in the end it's not enough. He collapses it all by grabbing a hold of your shoulders, looking into your eyes and saying "Tyrell, you are a good person. You know what's right."
You know it's a such a power-move, you've used it yourself sometimes but it's so hard to resist. It feels so true, and you've kinda known it for a while now, that you're trapped in a bubble that makes it impossible for you to see beauty that's not made of money or manipulation. It's all so painfully clear right now and you just can't stop crying.
When his serpentlike demeanor fades away he looks genuinely worried, he wipes your tears away with his right hand. First with the sleeve of his sweater, then with the back of his hand.
"Don't be scared," he whispers and put his arms around you, but you are, for a million reasons right now, and you cling to him and sob. You can feel his fingers dig into your shoulder blades, his warm breath against your neck.
***