PACHELBEL’S PILOT - I.a.

"MISTER ROGERS?"

The twenty-two-year-old male, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit, hazel eyes and well-groomed hair tilted his head from the Heroes Initiative Agency ad dashed across the television,

Eric cleared his throat, attempting composure.

"Hi - Yes, that would be me."

A receptionist puckered her lips and looked at him like he had two heads. The lobby buzzed with activity, a choreographed symphony of superheroes and employees dancing around its wide expanse, intent on accomplishing one of several vital tasks before the day's end. That is, unless something major came up, like a villain in need of assistance, a school to evacuate, or a mob of civilians at one of the bank-side lobbies with a camera watching too closely.

He stood upright, handing over a document, the receptionist inspecting it with a slide of her hand.

The man fixed himself, attempting to brush away the lingering clouds above his head in such a boring scenario like this. Though he sighed, keeping his cool. He had to:

"How are ya?"

"All accounted for, Mr. Rogers."

The receptionist had raised eyebrows as she picked a folder off of a stack of files behind the desk.

"Hmm. I didn't think you'd be... er, this tall."

"In this profession... Everyone's usually the same, aren't they? You know- Average-height." Eric sniggered with playfully rolled eyes, feeling the urge to tap dance with his 6 foot 3 figure.

"You don't come up too often in casual conversation, though. Not here, I mean, in person."

"Do I not?"

Eric furrowed his brows, flashing her a smile.

To his fortune, the woman bought it, and chuckled lightly. She beckoned him to wait a moment with a wave of the hand, before signing a clipboard to finalize his admission. "You're scheduled for an interview with MR. JONES in 3. They'll see you in room three, Level three."

She pointed toward the elevator bank, directing Eric.

"Oh… right. Thank you." He summoned a grin, saluting the lady with two fingers.

Finally, the same expression was somehow reciprocated, albeit delayed- and uncertain from one end of the bulletproof glass.