Starsnatcher - Trapped In An Alien World [COMPLETE]

Chapter 1.2

How long did I stare at the screen uninterrupted? Ten seconds? Fifteen? Long enough for Steve to give me a funny look.

The door to the community room slammed open. Only one man in this building opened the doors with such power. Mr. Graves was here.

An unused cigarette rested in one of his hands while the other hung limp around his beer belly, holding a burger. Crumbs stained his red manager's uniform. His curly black hair was neatly trimmed around the ears, although the same couldn't be said about his beard. To be fair, I wasn't exactly in a position to criticize him. Him threatening to fire me otherwise was the only reason I took care of my appearance at all.

Graves took a seat right across from me near Emma. Was I the only one who was bothered by the cigar smoke from his throat?

I took another bite from my burger. Hopefully, I wouldn't finish it too quickly, lest I'd run out of excuses to maintain eye contact. Prolonged eye contact in general was exhausting for me, with my tolerance levels being even lower than usual for Graves.

"What's up, folks?" he asked.

"Just chatting about aliens and the world," Steve said. "Have you finally tried out Big B.I.G.'s new album, Phil?"

"No," he said.

"Typical. You only listen to those rich mainstream types who use holograms for their concerts."

"Still better than someone whose beats sound like they were composed by an AI. Anyway, how are you, Emma?"

"Awesome!" she said. "You?"

He laughed. "Fit as a fiddle. And how are you, Lucas?"

'Good' would have been a lie.

"Did you ask mommy for a haircut and buy some antidepressants from your pocket money?" he continued.

My co-workers giggled in the background. Did I have to answer? My hairstyle was admittedly sub-optimal, but no-one other than him seemed to be bothered by this.

"Tell me, do you have a mouth?" Graves asked.

I faced him. "Yes, I have a mouth?"

"And can you use it, too?"

"Well, you can hear it right now!"

There was a reason I normally didn't even try to be funny.

"I hope you can use your ears, too because I have an important announcement to make," Graves said. "Your colleague Lisa just called me with news that was ... unpleasant. A running nose, a headache, and a forehead hotter than hippo excrements. She'll probably be out for commission for weeks."

Emma and Steve looked at each other and then faced Graves again. Even if I didn't know how to express it, I was concerned about her, too. Lisa was someone I knew. She was among the friendliest people to be around here. Plus, illness meant a financial burden and I wasn't sure if she could shoulder that.

"Hopefully, she'll be fine soon," Steve said. "Who's doing her shift in the meantime?"

"Well, are there volunteers?" Mr. Graves asked. "Remember, volunteers get a 15% salary raise!"

None of my co-workers moved a muscle. Lisa was a cook who did the really late shifts which today meant from 6 PM to 11 PM. Even if he doubled the hourly wage, why would anyone do that to themselves? From 1 PM to 11 PM plus all the college before that? And something like that every day?

"I thought so," he said. "I can understand that 10 hours is tough, but maybe some of us need discipline."

Crap.