"You have a meeting scheduled today," Caid said, trying to sound casual, "It's at noon."
"I told you to cancel all my meetings," Wen snapped, without looking up from the folder he had been relentlessly flipping through.
"Right," Caid said carefully, "but that was weeks ago. At some point, you have to do your job."
Wen didn't respond.
"Fine. But I'm not canceling it. Do it yourself."
Wen stopped to cast a terrifying glare at Caid, who only put his hands up in defense, "I'm not calling your brother to tell him you're weeks behind on work and won't meet with him. That's way above my pay grade."
Wen rolled his eyes and went back to his pointless flipping. He was getting nowhere. Caid watched him for a moment, before tentatively suggesting, "Maybe you should tell him. He could help."
Wen begrudgingly considered this, before answering, "Not necessary."
"He has more resources. We could use them."
"He's annoying."
"He's eccentric."
"He's bad at his job."
"Which is why you do it for him. I know, I've heard this before," Caid argued. "But he's good with people. And he knows a lot of them. Right now we have nothing. We just need to find anyone who knows anything."
Wen clenched his teeth. Had this conversation happened two weeks ago, he would have shut it down instantly. But time was passing and he was just as clueless as ever.
"Fine."
"Just consider it, maybe-" Caid stopped mid-sentence, "Wait, did you just agree with me?"
Wen didn't look up, "If there's a chance it will work, I would do anything."
Caid felt his stomach sink. That's how bad things were.