Eyes snap shut, fists clenched, nails white. Breathe....breathe...breathe...-
His near ebony-colored irises were visible once again, gaze fixed on the unfolding sprawl of 39th and 2nd: cars flitting by in bursts, pedestrians barreling down the sidewalk, eyes craned downward more so than forward, prompting the occasional sideswipe or collision that elicited a variety of reactions, all of which contained some form of an expletive or disdain. He nodded towards the urban wildlife, registering it's presence as he shifted his eyes up towards the iconic skyline of the city, his thudding heart slowing to it's normal creep. He exhaled, his wide-shouldered frame collapsing forward for a moment before resuming it's normal, erect posture. The crystal blue hue of the sky, the radiance of the late Spring sun was more than enough to fully bring him back to the present.
For now.
He glanced at a desk tucked away in the left-hand corner of his living room, noting that his monitor had beckoned him with three new emails, a couple of slack messages and a reminder of an upcoming behavioral analysis debrief in fifteen minutes. While he was normally adept at responding to work communication, the mild accumulation was thanks in large part to this latest episode, which lasted...five minutes, from what he could remember. He made a mental note to book another therapy session, chalking up this latest relapse in sanity to what he believed was workplace stress, although he knew, KNEW that there was something much deeper going on that he just couldn't put a finger on. He snorted, remembering his last conversation with Diana, his therapist of the last few months:
"These episodes sound like bouts of anxiety spurred by workplace stress; a change of scenery might be good for you."
Right, as if a simple swap of location would work; no, he had to dive deeper, had to figure out why for the last year he was experiencing these bouts of nearly overwhelming panic, surges of overpowering desire to break free, to liberate, to BE something that he-
A call. Oh thank you.
Grabbing his headphones, he took the call, wiping dime-sized beads of sweat off his forehead as he forged the best smile he could.
"Joe! Ready to get going?"
"Yeah, absolutely, let me just go ahead and pull up my screen here..."
"Yeah, of course; hey, while we're waiting, just wanted to remind you about the gala tonight. Might be a good time for you to relax after finishing the project, you know?" Right, that.
"You know, Gary, I can't believe that we're already there. The Phoenix Group does know how to throw a party."
"A gala, Joe, a gala." Laughter.
"But seriously, make an effort to show up, alright? You've been with the Group for a couple of years now and it'd be good for you to get face time not just with the Board, but other folks in the tech sector. Never know what could happen." Yeah, never know.
"I'll think about it, Gary, for you."
__
The "gala" was being held at one of those "this definitely was used as an art gallery" office spaces on 45th, so not too bad of a hike for dress shoes and a suit. He had managed to stick around for the first twenty minutes without making a single sarcastic remark about their surroundings, the latest Phoenix Group AI initiative or his own work, which was progress considering his normal cheekiness. After summarily being socially dismissed from a discussion with two execs, Joe found himself by the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked midtown, the remnants of Jameson and ice floating pathetically in a cocktail glass. A few moments passed before he heard footsteps approach from behind.
Who was this visitor?
His near ebony-colored irises were visible once again, gaze fixed on the unfolding sprawl of 39th and 2nd: cars flitting by in bursts, pedestrians barreling down the sidewalk, eyes craned downward more so than forward, prompting the occasional sideswipe or collision that elicited a variety of reactions, all of which contained some form of an expletive or disdain. He nodded towards the urban wildlife, registering it's presence as he shifted his eyes up towards the iconic skyline of the city, his thudding heart slowing to it's normal creep. He exhaled, his wide-shouldered frame collapsing forward for a moment before resuming it's normal, erect posture. The crystal blue hue of the sky, the radiance of the late Spring sun was more than enough to fully bring him back to the present.
For now.
He glanced at a desk tucked away in the left-hand corner of his living room, noting that his monitor had beckoned him with three new emails, a couple of slack messages and a reminder of an upcoming behavioral analysis debrief in fifteen minutes. While he was normally adept at responding to work communication, the mild accumulation was thanks in large part to this latest episode, which lasted...five minutes, from what he could remember. He made a mental note to book another therapy session, chalking up this latest relapse in sanity to what he believed was workplace stress, although he knew, KNEW that there was something much deeper going on that he just couldn't put a finger on. He snorted, remembering his last conversation with Diana, his therapist of the last few months:
"These episodes sound like bouts of anxiety spurred by workplace stress; a change of scenery might be good for you."
Right, as if a simple swap of location would work; no, he had to dive deeper, had to figure out why for the last year he was experiencing these bouts of nearly overwhelming panic, surges of overpowering desire to break free, to liberate, to BE something that he-
A call. Oh thank you.
Grabbing his headphones, he took the call, wiping dime-sized beads of sweat off his forehead as he forged the best smile he could.
"Joe! Ready to get going?"
"Yeah, absolutely, let me just go ahead and pull up my screen here..."
"Yeah, of course; hey, while we're waiting, just wanted to remind you about the gala tonight. Might be a good time for you to relax after finishing the project, you know?" Right, that.
"You know, Gary, I can't believe that we're already there. The Phoenix Group does know how to throw a party."
"A gala, Joe, a gala." Laughter.
"But seriously, make an effort to show up, alright? You've been with the Group for a couple of years now and it'd be good for you to get face time not just with the Board, but other folks in the tech sector. Never know what could happen." Yeah, never know.
"I'll think about it, Gary, for you."
__
The "gala" was being held at one of those "this definitely was used as an art gallery" office spaces on 45th, so not too bad of a hike for dress shoes and a suit. He had managed to stick around for the first twenty minutes without making a single sarcastic remark about their surroundings, the latest Phoenix Group AI initiative or his own work, which was progress considering his normal cheekiness. After summarily being socially dismissed from a discussion with two execs, Joe found himself by the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked midtown, the remnants of Jameson and ice floating pathetically in a cocktail glass. A few moments passed before he heard footsteps approach from behind.
Who was this visitor?