I checked into a hotel room as soon as I left the headquarters. Nothing special, just somewhere where I could live while I was undercover.
The room was small, consisting of a room with a queen sized bed, and bathroom, and a window overlooking the cityscape of Boston. A TV hung from the wall in front of the bed, and a channel list gave me the impression that the hotel I was staying in was cheaper than it looked. As I picked up the list, a series of unrecognizable channels sat in front of my eyes.
I walked through the beige-painted room into the bathroom.Staring into the mirror, I noticed that my dark brown hair had somehow become more unruly than it was the last time I had looked at myself. My bright blue eyes were definitely my best feature, or so I had been told. They were almost too bright, sticking out of my head like a cartoon character.
I took a hot shower, and then crawled under the blanket of my new bed. It was extremely comfortable, and my head sunk into the soft pillow quickly. I don't remember falling asleep, but somewhere along the way I must have.
A knock at the door woke me up, and I sat bolt upright as soon as the knuckles rapped against the wooden door the first time. It was followed by two more raps.
I swung my legs off of the bed, and stretched for a second. "I'm coming!" I hollered at the door.
Noticing that my hangover had left, I smiled and rubbed my eyes as I walked towards the door. My hand reached for the door knob, but suddenly I stopped.
Who is this? I thought. I know it sounds silly, but it hadn't occurred to me in my semi-conscious state that the person at the door might be a member of Destruction. Perhaps an assassin, like from one of those James Bond movies I enjoyed so much.
"One minute!" I said, trying to find a weapon I could use in case the person on the other side truly was a member of Destruction.
I noticed a lamp sitting on the bedside table, and made a deal with myself that I would run and dive for it if there was an enemy behind the barrier.
Slowly, finally, I opened the door.
On the other side, stood a woman vocation. She wore a beige skirt, and a white button-up top. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her gray, metallic skin gleamed softly in the dim light that illuminated the hotel hallway. A suitcase sat in her hands, which were outstretched as if she was offering it to me.
"Mr. Chapman, I presume?" Stated the vocation.
"Yep," I said.
"May I come in?" She asked.
"Sure," I replied. "What's in the suitcase?"
"You'll see," the vocation answered as she pushed past me. She walked over to the bed, and placed the suitcase down gently, with grace.
After she placed the suitcase down, she simply left.
I walked over to the suitcase, wearily. The door being slammed by the woman vocation leaving made me jump, and I shook myself off a little bit. I was being ridiculous.
I flipped a lock up on the suitcase, and then the other. The suitcase swung open by itself, satisfyingly.
Inside were folded clothes. I let out a sigh of relief. On top of the clothes sat a note, which read, "Interview today at 2 at HARMONY Headquarters. Wear this."
Carefully I started to take out the contents of the suitcase. The garments consisted of a white, button-up tie, khakis, and golden rimmed glasses. I admired my new outfit, my hands on my hips. The Bounty Officers have obviously spared no expense on me. It made me feel valued.
Lastly, I pulled out a tie. Depicted upon the accessory was a fish, what I depicted to be a bass. Another note was attached to the tie, it read: YOUR NEW NAME IS JERRY JACKSON. GO NUTS.
"You've got to be kidding me," I said out loud to myself.
However much I hated my new persona - that of Jerry Jackson, a fish-loving business-man - I had to go along with it. After all, the leaders knew best when it came to stuff like this.
I carried my new clothes to the bathroom, and started to get changed. I slid into my khakis, and tucked my shirt in… it fit perfectly. I tied my fish tie, and slipped on my gold rimmed glasses, transforming what should have been a bad-ass moment into what seemed like a downgrade.
Rummaging through the drawer under the sink, I found a razor and reluctantly started to shave my head. I had to be unrecognizable. Hair fell into the sink that I stood over each one a piece of my identity being thrown down the drain.
After a couple of minutes, I had a fresh new haircut. I was pretty much bald, but I still had a couple of hairs left sticking out of my head. I checked my watch suddenly, realizing that I hadn't known what time it was in a while, and I had the interview which would determine whether I would get hired at 2:00. It was 1:30.
I practically sprinted out of the hotel room and into the elevator, my heart racing and my head spinning. I had never really had to interview for a job, and it may sound stupid, but I was extremely nervous.
The elevator opened at the lobby, and I exited into the only nice part of the hotel. A fountain sat in the middle of the lobby, and to the left was an open bar, where vocations now sat and drank happily. Hey, it was 5 o'clock somewhere, who was I to judge?
To the right was the check in desk, and revolving doors sat on the opposite wall from where I was. I started my short journey towards them, but of course, nothing Monty Chapman does can ever be plain and simple.
As I started to pass the fountain, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Sitting at the bar, three extra-jacked vocations sat, throwing back shots like no man's business. However, when I came into their view, they started to eye me very suspiciously.
I did my best to not look in their direction, but I couldn't help myself. Of course, as soon as I did, I made eye contact with the biggest one.
To my surprise, he smiled.
I smiled back, but started to walk faster towards the revolving doors. After a couple minutes of smiling, I reached them, and exited the hotel.
The next thing I knew, I was in front of HARMONY Headquarters, staring up at the giant tower from the entrance.
I opened the door, and walked over to the desk. There, on the other side, sat the receptionist I had been briefed about the other day. I had to catch my breath.
I approached and said, "Hello, I'm here for an interview."
"Oh, great," said Berlin, "Just take this form and take the elevator up to the 6th floor."
"Th-thank you."
I walked as fast as I could over to the elevator, and pressed the up button. I didn't look back once, in fear that Berlin would see my flushed face. The elevator binged, and I entered, pressing the button to take me to the 6th floor.
After a couple of minutes, I arrived. The elevator doors opened to reveal what was a dimly lit hallway with only one door that sat on the end of the hallway.
I approached the door wearily, the grip on the form that Berlin had given me so tight that I could feel my knuckles turn white. Why was I so nervous?
About a step away from the door, it swung open, and revealed a nice little office that contained only one vocation, who sat behind a grand desk. The walls were glass, offering a lovely view of Boston, and potted plants sat in every corner, bringing a kind of peace to the room.
"Hello," I said. "I'm here to interview for a job."
The vocation behind the desk stood up, and outstretched his hand. I walked the last couple of steps into the office and shook it. The door slammed behind me, causing a little bit of pee to escape.
"Welcome," said the vocation. "My name is Mr. Richardson."
"Nice to meet you."
"Please," Mr. Richardson gestured to the seat that sat on the opposite side from where he was sitting, "Take a seat."
I pulled the chair out and sat down, my foot tapping against the floor impatiently. Mr. Richardson also sat down, and started to type away at his computer, mechanically, as if automatically.
"Name," ordered the vocation.
"Mon-Jerry Jackson," I answered, kicking myself.
The vocation typed for a while, and then his brow furrowed. "That's funny, you aren't in any systems."
I had to think on my feet. I said, "That's because I've never had a job."
"But surely at your age you must have had some type of work."
"Nope."
"So what makes you think that we are going to hire you, Mr. Jackson?" asked the vocation.
"I thought you might overlook that part," I said. Sweat started to drip down my collar.
"Well, under any other circumstances we would not hire you, but in this day and age we are sort of in need of more humans." Mr. Richardson typed something else on his computer. "When can you start?"
I almost fainted, I was so happy. "I can start tomorrow, sir."
"Perfect, Mr. Jackson. See you at 9 a.m. on the dot." The vocation smiled, and I stood up and outstretched my hand, like I had when I had entered. However, the vocation didn't join me this time. The light in it's blue eyes dimmed to black, and he slouched in his chair. The door behind me swung open, and I exited into the hallway.
I entered the elevator, and rode it down, resisting the urge to jump up and down.
After reaching the lobby, I started to walk towards the exit. But from behind me, I heard, "How'd it go?"
I turned around to see Berlin standing at her desk, stretching her neck to see me as I practically ran to the door.
I retreated back to her desk, and answered, "Great. I got the job."
Berlin's eyes widened and she walked around her desk to where I was standing. She wrapped her arms around me.
"It's going to be awesome to have another human in the building. It's extremely boring when you're the only one," she said.
She pulled away from me and looked me in the eyes, smiling. Her smile was so infectious that I couldn't help but smile, too.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I croaked.
"Can't wait," she whispered.
I turned away from her and started towards the door once again, the smile still spread across my face. That interaction with Berlin was the most human interaction I had had in over a year, and to this day I still think about it from time to time.
The smile was erased from my face immediately when I exited the building and across the street, staring at me with murderous eyes, were the three vocations from the hotel bar.