In, hold it, 1.....2.....3, out, 1.....2.....3. Clay tried to calm his breathes as the ship began to dock. Of all the times for him to have a panic attack, it had to be the night of the gala. He cast an irritated glare towards Mason, the cause of his life long suffering. Said boss was excitedly leaning by the ships exit, oblivious to the stress he had given the scientist.
The deafening creak of the ship door as it gradually opened was enough to momentarily distract Clay from the bad news he had received. The chattering hum of voices reached him and he finally stood, there was no going back now. Mason beamed from ear to ear and looped his arm over Clay's shoulder, dragging him along out of the ship. The docking bay was crammed with other space crafts dropping off attendees of the gala. Everywhere Clay looked he was met with elegantly draped women and dapper men, all Hyperion workers of course.
Everyone was arriving and sweeping through the docking bay and out to the wide halls of the main facility. The floors were lined with a velvety red carpet that guided the guests to a massive stair case. The flow of guests seemed to stop as everyone was forced to show their tickets at the top of the stairs. Clay rummaged through his pockets and retrieved the invitation he had been given by the CEO's.
“I thought for sure they had fixed this...line issue.” Mason rolled his eyes as he loudly commented. Clay ignored him, as soon as he got into the gala, he was going to find a way to ditch his boss. He was stressed enough as it was and he knew it would be practically impossible to enjoy the night with Mason practically hovering over his shoulder.
The line moved quickly and Clay soon found himself showing his ticket to the largest bouncer he had ever seen. The crowd then continued along the red carpet through a brightly lit hallway of photographers and writers. Before the poor scientist had a moment to register what was going on, he was yanked aside and a recorder was rudely shoved in his face. There was a bright flash and his vision was momentarily hazy.
“W-what...” he stammered, but was cut off.
“Ace reporter of the Hyperion Buzz here. I couldn't help but spy that VIP ticket you flashed at the top of the stairs here. I assume you earned it doing something grand. Please elaborate.”
Clay rubbed his eyes and his sight returned. He was face to face with one of the reporters that lined the vast hall, a camera man lingered close by, his camera aimed and ready.
“Uh...my name is Clay, I'm a scientists here at Hyperion...” Clay introduced himself, unsure what it was exactly he was supposed to say. He was a nobody, this much he knew, and it baffled him that the reporter took any interest in him at all.
“Oooh, a prized scientists, eh? You must have discovered something amazing to be given a VIP ticket straight from the CEO's.” The ace reporter prodded.
“Uhm, I guess you could say that. I was nominated for an award after all.” Clay scratched the back of his neck as the camera man snapped another picture. The reporter gasped, a sly smile spreading across his cheeks.
“An award huh? Why exactly were you nominated?”
Clay knew his project was considered classified, if the information got leaked outside of Hyperion, other military groups were bound to take action. There would be a raid on his facility for sure. The scientist fiddled with his thumbs, he had to be careful with his words. However, his problem seemed to be solved as a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Sorry boys, but we have seats reserved and there are people waiting for us.” Mason began to pull Clay back into the crowd, leaving the reporter and his crew agitated and without a scoop.
“You slipped away from me there.” Mason chuckled and guided the scientist through the wide hall and into an enormous room echoing with music and laughter. Clay's head was already pounding from all the bright lights and stress caused by Masons presence, the music was nothing more than another pain. He felt like a sardine, elbow to elbow with workers as they glided into the room and dispersed amongst themselves.
A live orchestra was positioned on a balcony on the far side of the room, behind a wide stage that took up most of the back wall. Just before the stage were rows of circular tables and chairs, while the rest of the room was empty and spacious.
On the stage, painted performers twirled ribbons and twisted their bodies like limp noodles. They flipped and spun to the fast paced music and, to say the least, it was mesmerizing. Clay found himself being dragged closer and closer to the performers until Mason had led him to one of the many tables where his boss' buddies waited patiently. They chattered like lively birds in a tree, allowing Clay a moment to catch a better glimpse of the gala.
On the East wall he spied a line forming around a steaming buffet and immediately his stomach rumbled. Perhaps now would be the perfect moment to get away. He cast a quick look over to Mason who was completely engrossed in his conversation with a fellow worker, and failed to notice when Clay slipped into the crowd, b-lining it for the concessions.
Clay weaved through the ever growing party and pushed his way right to the table of delectable finger foods. His sour mood was momentarily forgotten as his mouth watered over the inviting display of snacks.
Quickly he got in line, piling his plate up with some of everything. Behind him he could hear the orchestra begin to play a different melody, and the shuffle of feet as everyone stepped to the dance floor. The opening waltz of the gala had begun, but Clay hardly batted an eye to it. Instead he turned on his heels with his plate of treats, ready to drown out the night with food. However, he soon realized if he was to truly enjoy his meal, he couldn't return to the table with Mason, just his boss' presence was enough to turn his hair gray.
Clay squinted his eyes, staring daggers across the room at Mason who laughed and snorted with his fellow workers at their table. No, Clay would definitely have to find a whole new table to sit at. Yet, it seemed that everyone had the same idea, not a single table was void. Clay began to fret as he watched the chairs fill up with men and women, soon he would be forced to stand all night, he had to hurry.
“I'll sit with anyone as long as it's not Mason!” Clay finally convinced himself and began to weave across the room towards an open chair at a crowded table. He slipped out of the buffet line, ducked through the waltzers and began to work his way through the tables, eyes glued on that one chair. As he drew nearer he started to take note of the people he would be forced to sit by.
It was mostly men save for two women who hung close to their dates. The empty chair was sandwiched between two gentlemen, the first was a scrawny older man with squinty eyes and rickety glasses that barely balanced on his drooping nose. The second was a strong proud younger man whose eyes were sharp and...Clay paused, beginning to recognize the features of the head mechanic.
“Everett...” he whispered under his breath, a scowl wrinkled his face. He looked around the room again for another empty chair, alas the only vacant seat was the one he had left beside Mason. Clay sighed, his plate was growing heavy and he had a feeling that no matter where he sat he wouldn't be satisfied. He glared one last time at the mechanic, debating if he would be better company than his boss. As he did his gaze drifted over to the woman seated to his right. Clay found himself momentarily locked onto her, and his stomach flittered. She smiled as she engaged in conversation, oblivious to the man staring her down.
She was draped in an elegant dark green dress that overflowed off her frame like a waterfall, pooling onto the floor around her. Wavy red locks of silk hair brushed her toned shoulders and Clay couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity about her. Her gaze trailed over to his own for a split second and he found himself lost in those emerald eyes he loved so dearly.
“Tabitha?” He practically whispered, but here eyes stayed on him as if she had heard him speak. All at once everything he had tried and successfully forgotten rushed back to him and broke the trance her presence had placed upon him. Instead, images of the infirmary danced through his mind, taunting him mercilessly. Clay took a step back, he couldn't face her, not now, not after what he did, not after how he had left her. He could see her turn towards him, no doubt she had seen him now, he had to leave. Frantically he searched for an escape, or someplace to hide. There on the far side of the stage was a small set of stairs, and just beyond was a curtain where the performers had gone. Without hesitation, Clay spun on his heels, gripping his plate tight, and scurried through the crowd like a mouse on the run. He didn't bother to think his plan through and practically flew up the stairs, bursting triumphantly through the curtain and out of sight of the ball room.
He was behind stage in a cramped little hall packed with outfits and props. The performers themselves were on the far side of the space and didn't seem to even notice him. Clay gave a long exhale and quickly plopped down on a crate, at last he could finally eat. As he stared down at the plate of finger food, he came to the harsh realization that his appetite had completely gone. With a loud huff he set the plate aside, letting his head slouch into his hands.
He wanted to forget everything, to know he could have a moments rest, but reminder after reminder was recalled to him. He was walking on thin ice with the CEO's and they were already furious with him. He had also screwed up with his dearest and closest friend Tabitha, letting his heart get the best of him. Yet how could he not? He couldn't stand the though of her leaving and he wanted to do everything in his power to keep her. Now, of all things, she was here, at the gala, and he hadn't found the time to sort his emotions out, or confront her about the kiss.
“Am I forgetting anything?” He groaned, massaging his thumbs into his temples as if trying to rub the stress right out of his brain.
As if on cue, the music beyond the curtain stopped and the lights around him began to dim. He could hear the murmur and commotion of voices die to a hush as the harsh screech of a microphone being adjusted echoed through the gala.
“Welcome one and all to the annual Hyperion Gala. As per usual, we will now start the awards as we roll into the second hour.” A voice echoed through the room, earning a loud applause from the gala guests.
Clay felt his stomach knot up, he had forgotten to prepare a speech.
Tabitha's eyes widened as her gaze fell upon the familiar face of Clay. Their eyes locked and she felt a flutter go through her. The loud overwhelming sounds of the gala were lost as her senses took in everything about the dear scientist; His navy blue form fitting suit, the gel that held his unruly bangs in place, the shaky hand that supported the overflowing plate of food, and his worry filled eyes. Tabitha was overjoyed to see him, but before she could even smile, he turned and darted away as if spooked by her very presence.
The sight of him fleeing from her stirred up something inside and a vision popped in her head. It was a blurry memory, or perhaps a dream long forgotten, and he had run from her, leaving her alone with a heavy feeling in her chest.
“What's wrong dear, you seem...upset.” Everett placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb over her skin soothingly. Tabitha's eyes widened as the sounds and commotions of the gala rushed back to her.
“I...I just saw a friend is all.” she began, looking down at her glass of champagne, “He looked almost...horrified to see me and just up an ran away.” She frowned, something was definitely going on.
“Who?” Everett's brow raised as he tried to read her thoughts through her expression.
“Clay, the one working on the special project.” She let her chin rest into her palm, a suspicious feeling clawed at her, like there was something important that she just couldn't seem to remember.
“Oh, well who knows what his problem is. Maybe he wasn't looking at you but someone else.” Everett shrugged.
“Even so, it's strange that I haven't seem him sense the day I was put into the infirmary...Are you positive he didn't try to visit me and I was just asleep?” Tabitha turned toward Everett, a sadness lingered in her eyes.
“I told you before, I was there practically the whole time, and I never saw him once!” Everett shook his head as if it was a tragic fact indeed. “He must not have been as great of a friend as you thought.” He added for good measure. Tabitha's brows furrowed and she turned back to her glass, swirling the contents before taking a swallow.
“Don't let it get to you darling, I'm sure he was just busy with that important project of his.” Everett assured her, before letting his hand slide back to his pocket. Tabitha sighed, she knew something had to be going on. The previous conversation at the table struck back up and the poor mechanic found it near impossible to think.
“I'm going to the powder room, I'll only be a minute.” She stated, getting a nod from Everett. Quickly she stood and slipped through the dancers and guests, venturing off down one of the many red carpeted halls.
As she wandered, she replayed the vision of Clay running from her over and over again. They were in the infirmary, that much she could tell, and it was as if she could close her eyes and imagine his presence there like she was reliving it. She could see the expression of his face, hear the familiar tones of his voice, though she couldn't bring to mind what he was saying. One thing she did notice, was that no matter how she tried, she couldn't imagine anyone else there, they had been alone.
“Why was he running?” Tabitha muttered under her breath as she leaned against a corner in the hall. Across from her was a mirror and she let her gaze get lost in her reflection, as if the Tabitha in the glass could help her recall.
“A dream...it must have been a dream or I wouldn't have so easily forgotten it.” she sighed, giving up on figuring the mystery out.
Confused and somewhat flustered, she returned to the gala where the music had stopped completely. Everyone was quiet as a man on stage tapped a microphone.
“Welcome one and all to the annual Hyperion Gala. As per usual, we will now start the awards as we roll into the second hour.” He spoke and everyone began to applaud.
Quickly, as the lights began to dim, Tabitha zipped back to her seat next to Everett, and turned her chair to face the stage. A CEO had walked up to the microphone and was beginning to read off a card in his wrinkled hand.
“We would first like to award the Hyperion Soldiers who went above and beyond to fight for this great facility.” He announced, and a handful of decorated men went up from the crowd. It was then that Tabitha's thoughts began to wander again. Her body wincing as she recalled the buff trainer who had dueled her in the gym, it was here she found her memory's began to scramble.
A wave of cheers rang up through the great hall and Tabitha quickly snapped up, her hands beginning to clap, despite having missed everything that conspired on stage.
“Next we will be awarding some of the sharpest minds here at Hyperion,” the same CEO continued, “the first award goes to a scientist who not only dared to think outside the box, but also managed to completely succeed in his endeavor...Dr. Clay.” The CEO exclaimed, and the gala attendants cheered again. Tabitha watched, overjoyed, as her scientist peeked out of the backstage curtain like a timid child. She knew it was a dream of his to be recognized for his work, and here he was, winning awards at the Hyperion Gala.
Clay finally strode across the stage and shook the CEO's hand before he was handed a golden plaque. She could see the small beads of sweat that trickled down his brow as the microphone was handed to him, and he nervously cleared his throat.
“I..i would like to start by saying what an honor it is to be up here. It...it has been a dream of mine to one day accomplish something that could help to better this vast organization.” Tabitha smiled as he took a deep breath, stopping the shakes in his hand as he clenched a fist. “And I never could have done it without...the wise CEO's who guide this great facility.” Tabitha furrowed her brows, what was he saying? After all the CEO's had put him through, after all the terrible things they had ordered for his project, and the danger they had placed 'A' in, after all that, Clay was praising them? Tabitha frowned, her arms folding across her chest, she never thought she would see the day that Clay would become a kiss up.
“The CEO's blessed me with this great opportunity. I would be nothing without them and their guidance.” Clay continued to spew nonsense on stage. “I owe this reward...and my project to them.” He gave a shy smile and shook the CEO's hand before turning and darting off the stage, clearly glad to be out of the spotlight.
The gala echoed again with applause, but Tabitha's hand remained tucked at her sides as her evergreen eyes trailed Clay back to a packed table where he slumped in a chair beside his boss. She stared him down during the rest of the awards, her irritation increasing as he refused to even turn in her direction.
Finally the lights flicked back on and the music chimed back up as the gala drifted into its third hour. The second waltz of the night had begun and Tabitha stood, determined to get answers.
“Avoid me all you want Clay-jar...but I will get to the bottom of this.”
Authors note: I had the most trouble with this chapter, and re-wrote the beginning twice. I'm still not satisfied but i'm tired of re-visiting it. Also, do you know how hard it is to write with long fake nails??? IT'S INFURIATING. (never again)
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