The title will make more sense if/when I post more. This time, it's relevant! Though not immediately apparent. This is a prologue for LavenderBlue's contest. Wish me luck! Oh, and be as nitpicky as you like, I want this to be amazing. It might be my JulNo concept.
He turned to the left, and collided with a person. Hoping wildly that he’d just pushed Alisa, he moved to speak, but realized he'd been met by a secretary. His eyes narrowed at the older woman. She smirked in return, brushing off her stiff pencil skirt. “You’re too late,” she murmured darkly, her eyes glinting in the low light. “She’s gone.”
His breath caught for a moment. “No.”
“Denying it is useless, Alec,” the woman glared at him, her expression turning from menacing to business-like. “I want that damage report by three a.m. If I do not have it, you can forget being liaison to those...those roaches you call a people.”
Alec shook his head. It was no use to debate her opinions. But he refused to believe her until he could see for himself. He set off down the catwalk, running as fast as he possibly could.
He skidded to the right and found the maintenance exit door. He stepped out, and immediately yelped. He’d forgotten how far up he was. He inched along the ledge, unable to take his eyes off the walkways below, and below them the platforms. He knew below the platforms there was actual ground. He hadn’t been on the ground in days. Not since…Alisa. He had to move, and fast. As he inched along, he shifted his eyes to the end of the ledge, where the path widened to a smallish deck, encircled by an aluminum guardrail. There, housed by a stainless steel shed, stood the roof access stairs. He let go of his handhold and walked over to them. He was met by a flashing gold "NO ENTRANCE" sign. Alec saw the iris scan station--someone, no doubt it was Alisa, had smashed the sleek black boxed that had been mounted to the shed panel on the right. In doing this, the perpetrator had managed to jar the doors to the stairway open. But rather than guarantee access, a latticework of angrily glowing vermilion lasers had been erected. He couldn't climb the stairs without first killing himself.
Dejected, Alec raised his voice to the heavens, daring whoever was in charge to strike him down. Nothing mattered. Not anymore. Fists clenching, he walked around the deck aimlessly, fuming at Alisa. Maybe the secretary had been right. Maybe Alisa was serious this time and had finally taken the plunge. He ran his right hand through his black hair, not ready to give up. There had to be another way. He stepped back to the guardrail on the edge of the deck. He surveyed the side of the building searching for handholds. Alec could find nothing, and swore loudly to himself, but pressed on. He was almost certain there was another way up for when the iris scanner was malfunctioning. It only made sense. He looked around the deck, maybe there was an ancient elevator, or maybe a hidden set of stairs. He could find nothing, but heard a strange clanking sound, much like two pots hitting each other. With nothing to lose and everything to gain, Alec investigated. Blowing in the wind, almost as if it was beckoning him, hung a ladder. An antique chromium-steel, Alec noted upon further inspection. He tugged at it, testing its remaining strength and elasticity, deeming it to be exceptionally well kept. Not wanting to waste another second, he grabbed the ladder and found his first footholds.
Hastily, Alec navigated the ladder, almost forgetting to watch his footing for weak spots. He reached the rooftop and rolled over the ledge, lacking anything one could call grace. “Alisa!” He shouted to the empty air as he stood up, instinctively brushing his suit jacket and pants off. A fierce wind whipped about him from this altitude, stealing his voice and carrying it the wrong way. He searched all around, eyes darting from one corner to the next, over the various, vaguely rectangular structures. Some spat steam, others had small oscillating spheres in their centers, all of which glowed iridescently. He couldn't fathom any of their functions. Alec began to move forward across the roof, trying to shout to her in hopes that maybe, somehow, she was still here, but the cursed wind muffled him, not that she’d be able to hear, anyway.
It didn't take long for an aching sense of defeat to seep into his bones. The secretary was right; she was gone and it was too late. He’d done nothing, and it had all been for naught. He sunk to the bitumen-membrane-covered ground, head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? Of course, all of the Proletarians were the same. Impulsive uneducated brats, that’s all they were. He’d been a fool to think one of them would be any different, would be anything like his class. Sadness and an emotion he refused to acknowledge faded too quickly into cold objectivity. He stood again, brushing invisible debris from his trousers, and left for the ladder. He had a report to turn in.
“Alec, I said don’t go! C’mon, listen to me, you nitwit!”
He turned his head slowly. Alisa. But he was unmoved. He silently wondered if her accent had always been so ungainly. Alec said nothing, and only looked through her.
“Alec…? What’s wrong, love?” Alisa smiled softly and reached for him. He recoiled and appeared mildly disgusted. She frowned, dropping her outstretched hand. “I’m sorry, Alec. It was stupid and vain and irrational of me, I know that. Please forgive me.”
“I’m Mr. Hale to you, Alisa,” Alec intoned slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. “You should’ve listened to your friends when they told you to leave my kind alone. You would’ve been over this by now.”
Alisa clenched her fists, her next words full of venom. “Judging me on that stupid scale you made up, aren’t you, Alec? Your 'kind'...even after they left you for dead. I'll never compare to the people you call friends,” Alisa stopped, shocked at her own words.
Alec’s face started to crumple, but he managed to stay composed. He stared at her, she stared back in silence. “Alisa, I’m--”
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