What in THE FUCK are they talking about? Employment fucking agreement? Own B-Girl?
This must be about the document Brooke noticed before she left. It finally hits me. My mind recalls the standard form I’ve signed for Sketch Republic and other freelance work I’ve done before I start their projects. It maintains their ownership while I work on their properties.
“That’s for stuff I do here at work, not on my own time at home,” I insist. I ball my hands into tight fists.
“I’m afraid you have misinterpreted the agreement if that’s what you think,” Ruiz says calmly.
“B-Girl is mine,” I state clearly.
“Not anymore,” Arnold says smugly.
“Over my dead body,” I assure him. “I will fight this as long as it takes, no matter the cost.”
“Well I hope you’re a very wealthy man, Mr. Evans. Because these cases are extremely expensive, and Arnauld’s prepared to take this all the way.”
I think of dad and my family…my creation and my dignity are what I have to fight for. They wouldn’t let me back down.
“I have the resources,” I insist. “I’ll fight it all the way too.”
“Good, I love a fight when I know I’ll win,” Arnold says casually. “Meanwhile, we’ve contacted Sharper Edge Comics and given them the details. So be aware that your deal is now on indefinite hold until our potentially long case is finished. But I’m sure that they’ll be more than happy to deal with us directly when we’ve won…we’re professionals after all.”
I glare at him, wishing his fur would burst into flames, and he’d die a slow painful death.
“And while we have fun in court, I think I’ll use someone on staff to start redesigning B-Girl to my liking so that we can hit the ground running after we win. Maybe I’ll get your old team involved.”
“Arnauld,” Ruiz warns. He must be able to tell that I’m about to snap.
“Is there anything else?” I ask, trying to neutralize my voice.
“Nope, that’s all. Right, Ruiz?”
“We’re done for now. Have your lawyer contact me directly so we can discuss how we’re going to proceed.”
When I go to stand my knees almost give out on me. I falter for a moment, but somewhere inside I find the strength to stand tall and gather myself. I turn towards the Monkey.
“I know I have what you want, but you’re fooling yourself if you think money and lawyers are going to make what’s mine, yours. You have underestimated me before, and I assure you, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
I don’t wait to see his reaction or hear his response. I’m done. I try to remember to breathe as I head out the door. I need to pass the threshold before it does an Alice in Wonderland and the doorway suddenly shrinks to a tiny size or turns sideways.
I’m so stunned that I just start walking down the hallway…so disoriented that I’m not even sure where the elevators are. I wish someone, any one of my friends, was nearby so that they could help me.
“Mr. Evans, you need to stop.” I turn to see Cathy, the HR woman that assisted me once with straightening out vacation days, rushing after me, a security guard only a step behind her.
“I need to get out of here,” I say out loud, not specifically to her but more to myself.
“Yes, yes, the guard will walk you out. But do you need to gather any personal items from your cubicle? We can make arrangements another time for you to do it, if that would be better.”
I think of my iPod, books and my figurines. I fear they’ll all disappear by Mojo’s mandate if I don’t take them now.
I turn towards her. “No, I want to get my stuff.” I’m right on the edge of my sanity, but I need to keep it together. Once I get the hell out of this building I can have my breakdown…but not now. I try to shift into autopilot, pushing all my devastation and panic behind a closed door in my mind.
“Okay, I’ll come downstairs with you. The guard will need to be there as well. When you’re done, he’ll escort you out.”
“Is that really necessary? I’m not going to do anything. I swear; I’ll just leave.”
“I’m sorry, Nathan. It’s policy,” she confirms pointing towards the elevators.
During the ride down I wonder where Brooke is and how I’m going to reach her. They said they were going to interrogate her. She’s probably in there right now hearing the horror of it all. I think I’ll go mad if I don’t get to talk to her soon and understand how she’s feeling. I couldn’t get a clear read on her at all in Arnold’s office. Was she upset and angry about B-Girl, or trying to pretend that it didn’t matter to deflect the situation from me? Why didn’t she even look at me after she heard the news?
As we approach the production area I see the team gathered in the hall near Nick’s office. They all turn and gawk at me and my entourage before quickly disbanding.
Andy heads back to his work area several steps behind us.
Once I’m inside my cube he peeks over the top of our shared wall. “Whoa dude, what’d you do anyway? Did they catch you doing on-line porn at work or something?”
He looks genuinely concerned, not just for me, but it appears for himself, too.
“No, it wasn’t on-line porn, Andy, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sure,” he says, seeming to understand that I need my space. “But I’m sorry man, whatever it was. I’m going to miss having you around.”
I look up at him and his face is distressed. Who would have thought that the butterball’s a softy? He’s the last person I expected that from. “I’m sorry too, Andy,” I reply, realizing that I’m really sad to leave my team this way. They’d become like a second family to me.
I look sideways and realize that HR Cathy is standing outside my cube, and she’s pulled out a pad and pen. She sticks her head inside.
“Sorry, Nathan, but before you leave I have to write down what you take.”
“Really?” I say, irritated as all fuck. Now I’m a goddamned criminal. The guard hands me an empty box, and I slam it on my desk.
“Spiderman,” I call out tauntingly, waving it in the air for her before sticking the figurine inside the box. “iPod…Daffy Duck mouse pad…” I rattle off the titles of my reference books, and she gives me a suspicious look. “Hey, I brought them from home.”
“They’re his,” an angry voice responds, supporting me.
I turn to see Joel standing in my doorway.
“Nathan?” he asks, his hands straight out, palms turned upwards. He looks like he’s in pain. “What happened, dude? I need you here. What the hell?”
“I know, Joel. This is so messed up.” I look down and shuffle my feet.
“What can I do? I’ll go upstairs and fight this bullshit, whatever it is.”
“There’s no fighting this,” I say. “I’m sorry. This is really, really bad. Believe me; I never would want to let you down like this.”
“Fuck,” he curses, looking down. “You were my best guy, Nathan. And besides that, I liked working with you.”
“Me too,” I agree, feeling worse by the second.
He turns and looks back at Cathy and steps closer. “Hey, I’ll give you a call later, and we’ll set up a time in the next day or so to go out for drinks. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks man.”
He punches me lightly on the shoulder and then steps back. “Damn.”
“I know.” I nod sadly.
“Okay, later, Nathan.”
I try to refocus, quickly riffling through my drawers and shelves for anything I don’t want to leave behind including my black Darth Vader shaped coffee mug and joke-of-the-day flip calendar. I pull open the bottom drawer, and I feel a huge surge of relief to see it’s completely empty. They never would have let me carry those drawings out of the building now. Nick and Dani came through for me.
I stand back up, and realize that I’m finished here. This part of my life is over.
“I’m done,” I tell Cathy and she looks relieved there hasn’t been more of a scene. But just then Dani and Nick push their way past Cathy and the guard.
Nick gets to me first. He pulls me into a hug and leans into my ear, speaking in a low voice, “We’ve got you covered, Nathan. Where are you headed now?”