Chapter 2

"Damn it! It's her again!"

Cursing his luck, the agent leaned hard against his seat, ruffling his hair with a snark.

"Thank you for calling NetMax. How can I help you today?"

The production floor buzzed, echoing the same message across the room. The agent raised his voice as far as he could, or his voice would drown in this meat grinder of angry calls and upsells.

"I understand your concern, and I'd be more than willing to help. Could you tell me your name and account number, please?"

He nodded, mumbling and humming as his fingers tapped on the keyboard.

"Okay, I pulled up your account and saw that you already have a pending req—"

The agent paused, glaring at his screen.

"I totally get your frustration. Here's what I can do. I'll quickly send another follow-up and—"

The agents from the other stations watched as his voice began to shake.

"Oh, a manager... yes, yes. However, I can assure you that I—"

He groaned, pressed the mute button, and mumbled a few choice words. Looking to his sides, colleagues mouthed their approval, waving their hands to say, "let it go."

With a shrug and an eye roll, he returned to the line.

"Sure. Let me transfer you to our manager. Can I put you on hold for a bit? Great. Kindly wait for the next line. Thank you for calling."

The agent scrunched his face, flipped a finger, and pressed the mute button with it. On his screen, a chat window opened. 

The agent sighed.

Hey Boss. Escalation. I'm really sorry.

SEND

A notification chimed almost instantly.

No worries. I'm on it.

A few minutes passed. The door to the back office opened, and a guy stepped out.

Without a word, he walked toward the rattled agent's cubicle and gave him a firm shoulder tap.

"Good job trying to de-escalate. You'll get a hang of it."

The agent lifted his head.

"Thanks, Boss Ezra." He sighed.

Ezra waved the honorific off and chuckled. "Alright team, I'll take a break. You can take yours one at a time."

"Yes sir." A collective answer rang out.

Ezra rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Elevator, cafeteria, elevator, convenience store, smoking area. That's his usual breaktime route. After grabbing a quick lunch, he went straight to the smoking area, where Chris, a fellow senior agent, was dragging on a cigarette.

"Yo, Ezra."

"What's up?" 

Chris held out his packet toward his friend. Ezra held a hand up and shook his head.

"So, she called again?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. Fourth time this week." Ezra replied.

"Tough luck on your team getting that call every time."

"Can't be helped. That client wouldn't keep calling for no reason."

"No fix from the tech yet?"

"There were dispatch requests, but it's taking a while."

"Well, damn." Chris shrugged, taking a drag. "I feel bad for the client. With that smooth, sexy voice, who could say no to 'I appreciate your patience'?"

"Stop it, man." Ezra chuckled. "It's hard on the throat. If only non-voice support paid more."

"Then we would all be living in peace." Chris snickered as he flicked the cigarette butt into a bin.

Ezra took a gulp of his lemon-flavored energy drink. "Yeah."

"Anyway, I'm going back up."

"Sure. I'll be back in a few."

Chris nodded. "By the way, do you have a gig later?"

"None. The client pulled out."

"Whew. Come on, dude. You can try out our bar, part-time. Let me know." Chris advised as he walked off.

"Thanks, dude."

As soon as Chris entered the building, thunder clouds loomed above Ezra.

If only I had more time. Or energy.

---

The sky didn't let up. Ezra trod up the stairs of his apartment complex, rushing to get his wet socks off and dry his shoes before the next day's shift.

The door clicked, and the lights flickered on. With his umbrella, shoes, and socks shoved in the rack, he quickly slipped out of his jacket and jeans, hanging them on the bathroom's curtain rod.

His unit was modest enough for a single person. Maybe a couple, if they could squeeze together on a small bed. Nonetheless, the light-colored paint and warm lights made the room look cozy, given the apartment owner's penchant for order and minimalism. An induction stove, an air-conditioner, and a desk big enough for a gaming laptop.

Ezra blew on his instant ramen, sitting on the bed with a plate of dumplings. One slurp stung his tongue, prompting him to blow the heat off towards the window. A great view of the neighborhood and the city below sprawled beneath him, streaked by lightning and rain. A steal for the unit's relatively cheap rent.

Munching on his noodles and gyoza, he scrolled back and forth on his phone.

1 gig cancelled.

"Oh well." He muttered. "Lady Luck, please be good to me."

After dinner, he played a few quick shooter games with Chris. Just around forty-five minutes. Years ago, they would have played more. Getting married wasn't easy for his friend, and Ezra knew it. Life didn't knock harder than when you were in your thirties.

Lying on his bed, he opened his favorite horse-girl racing game. Every night, he still managed to run a few more rounds before finally sinking into his pillows, snoring.

No noise. No busy chatter or rage-cursing.

Just the soft sound of a city slowly lulling him to sleep.

---

The next day, Ezra yawned wide, staring at his computer screen. His fingers clacked on the keys mindlessly, struggling to keep his eyes open as he waited for the caffeine to kick in.

Then, his phone vibrated inside his pocket.

Slowly, lazily, he pulled the device out.

A notification.

A few quick scrolls.

1 gig booked.

Two days from now. Thank you, Lady Luck.