Author's note:
Since the publishing of chapter 2 of Parasound, I've had something brewing in my head. The idea was this: a shorter, more concise three-part story that both leads up to the events of Parasound and is fully contained and enjoyable on its own, requiring no prior knowledge from the reader. With Parasound at the end of what I'd consider its first arc, I decided to start bringing this to life. This is the first part of the realization of that idea, with two more parts on the way. My hope is that anyone can fully enjoy Opening Act blind, while Parasound readers will appreciate similar themes and even answers to some questions they may have. That said, the focus is on an entirely new cast of characters.
Please enjoy part one of Opening Act.
Tuesday Morning
Ana walked through one of the big revolving glass doors at the ProdinaMed main campus. On the inside of the building was a huge open atrium. The building looked like a lot of these modern tech giant offices. Sleek. Steel monochrome with the occasional color trying to grab your attention with both hands and scream the name or logo of a new app. ProdinaMed was a med tech company though, so there was occasionally the mention of a new drug or something like that. Ana didn't know about all that. She was shocked to have gotten this job at all. She slacked quite a bit during her last couple years of college, but she still graduated with an IT degree like the rest of her cohorts.
She walked up to the conveyor that led past the metal detector and put her professional-looking backpack on it, along with her phone and other things in her pocket. As she went to walk through the detector, she realized she put her ID badge in the bin that just made it into the machine.
Again.
"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she turned back towards the security guard standing in front of her.
"Hold your hands up like this over your head," he said with the tone of a man who was saying the same thing for the hundredth time today.
She did as he asked. Arms up, elbows bent, hands open. It felt like going through the airport. When she went to step forward, he held a hand up in front of her.
"ID badge or visitor pass?"
"I accidentally put my badge in the bin again. Should be coming through any second now." She anxiously tapped her foot.
"Again?" He asked sternly.
"I accidentally did the same thing last Friday. It was you that stopped me then too." There were several other security lines that led in and out of the building.
"Ma'am I see a lot of people walk in and out of here."
She really hated being called ma'am. She was 22. Not a wife with two kids. Her bin peaked out of the machine.
"It's right in there, look." She went to point and the guard lifted his hand up higher and squinted accusingly at her. She put her hand back down. The guard looked at the man watching the screen as the bins passed through and he stopped it and grabbed the badge. Several people in line behind her sighed.
"My picture is on it and everyth--"
"She's good," the guard at the machine said. The other guard nodded, put his hand down and stepped aside to let her through. Ana grabbed her things and quickly walked away, eager to remove herself from the embarrassing situation.
As she did she could hear another "Hold your hands up like this over your head" from Mr. Serious.
She got into an elevator and pressed the button labeled '16' before grabbing her ID badge to look at it again. Annalise. Her full name. 'Ana' and the 'Anna' part of Annalise were pronounced 'ah-nah'. Not 'ann-ah.' She felt very strongly about this.
Ana's hair in her picture looked exactly like her own. That might have seemed like a strange thing to notice, but less so when you knew her hair hadn't always been the bleached platinum blonde that hung down to the top of her back. She'd picked the color based off her latest favorite indie artist. Her bangs were cut just barely out of her eyes, sitting in a disheveled line in front of her forehead.
She looked at the remaining physically identifying piece of information left on the ID. Height. Five feet, six inches tall. She could never get a straight answer out of anyone from HR about why that was on there.
Okay Ana, she thought to herself as the elevator began its climb. You're cute, you're nice, you're good at your job.
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. At first, anyway, before she was jumpscared by the poster in front of her face that was stuck to the elevator door.
Staring back at her from behind a layer of plastic was Tom Acron. The CEO of ProdinaMed. He had a big grin on his face, his arms were crossed, and he was wearing a suit. He was
al
ways wearing a suit.
Ana fucking
hated
the suits. Didn't matter what gender wore them. Every walking suit in this place carried themselves with an air of self importance that made her sick. They always seemed to treat everyone around them as if they mattered just a bit less.
She tried to avoid wearing a suit for the same reason she avoided reading whatever dumb quote floated above Jim Acron's head. She wasn't about to start letting herself get indoctrinated into the corporate bullshit. She opted for something less douchey. A patterned blouse and a relatively modest flowing black skirt. The black wedge pumps on her feet with lower ankle straps rounded out her outfit.
The doors of the elevator opened to her floor, finally giving Ana some much needed relief from dickhead's face. She stepped out into the hallway, quickly walking past the older woman and younger man at the reception desk that protected the supply room.
"Hi Gina, hi Bailey!" She said as she zoomed past them.
"Hi Ana!" They responded in unison behind her, only Gina said 'ann-ah' instead of 'ah-nah'. She rolled her eyes at her pronunciation. Bailey was a good kid though. Very polite and thoughtful.
Ana picked up her pace after checking her phone for the time. She was cutting it close again and decided to pick up the pace, working herself up to a light jog. Shit shit shit, she thought. She was so close. People in their cubes around her were starting to take notice of her hustle.
One more turn. Just
one
more and...
WHAM!
She slammed into a man that was just around the corner, toppling herself and the man over onto the ground. Her body took the brunt of the impact against man and the ground, but her face hit him as well. It all happened so fast, and though the moment she spent assessing her own body felt much longer, the next couple went by just as fast as the impact. She heard the man next to her groaning.
"Oh my god!" She was able to get herself back up fairly quickly, readjusting the small gold horseshoe septum ring in her now sore nose. She grabbed her bag and threw a couple of her own things back into it before starting to grab the man's papers.
"Are you okay? I am so
m>so sorry!"
He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a young man. Judging by his mildly annoyed groans and the grey color of his hair, she figured he was around his late 50s, but she was never very good at guessing ages.
She grabbed the man's arm and began to help him up. He avoided her eyes as he rose to her feet, but his face was red with obvious anger.
"Are you okay?" she repeated. He finally looked up and caught her gaze.
"What the
fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was so harsh it made her flinch. "Does this look like a
fuck
ing playground?"
"N-no, I just--"
"You just
?
hat? Didn't think?" He looked at his watch. It looked expensive and ugly. "Let me guess, you're running late and thought you could cut corners by jogging? Well guess what. That is
your problem that you have now made
>my problem."
She didn't quite understand what the problem was. Now that he was up and moving, it was very clear that he was not some frail, decrepit old man. He was perfectly fine.
"Look, I'm really, really sorry! I didn't mean to hit you"
"Yeah. You
will
be sorry when your manager hears about this..." He leaned forward, squinting slightly at her ID badge.
"...Annalise."
The way he said her name almost stung. And of course, he pronounced it wrong.
The man stormed away, mumbling something along the lines of 'stupid kids' and Ana slowly made her way to her cubicle. She was already late anyway.
She finally sat down at her desk and signed in, immediately opening the company chat, along with the private chat she had with her friends.
Ana: I'm alive gang
Ana: you can stop worrying now
Two other people began to type, their messages coming in one after another.
