“I hear we’re getting some talent soon,” Lina says, sipping at her coffee with a conspiratorial grin.

“Oh?” Rowan mutters, typing a constant beat on his keyboard. “Great. Ego in the studio.”

Austin’s getting used to the banter. There are at least thirteen animators, not all of which are around when he’s in the lab. A few are at the ends of their shifts when he comes in, coffee cups stacked around their computers as they blink repeatedly at bright screens. He’s also getting used to the zombie-like state most of the employees spend their lives in. Once, he ran into someone coming into the coffee lounge. They almost spilled their coffee all over his shirt.

Lina and Rowan are two of the veteran animators who work the same schedule as he does. Lina’s been with the company since it started, apparently, and Rowan joined a year after she did. They tend to talk throughout their shift, tossing jokes and insults in between project work. It’s a comfortable environment to work in. He likes tuning them out like a radio, their conversations providing background to his work.

The entire company is at the end of a project. Thankfully, Austin thinks, he joined right before the new projects were set to begin. The company is taking on two at a time, which is unusual for such a small group, but Dean had mentioned the opportunities the contracts would give them. Austin is just glad to be part of the team. He wants to establish himself as soon as possible.

“Well, Katie says Dean just interviewed a really cute guy,” Lina says, propping her feet up on her desk as she balances a laptop on her knees, “and he’s got a great voice.”

“What, you think you’re going to date a VA?”

“Well, apparently, you’re more his type,” Lina snorts, “which is too bad...”

“I’m no one’s type. Try talking to Austin.”

“Um, how about not,” Austin murmurs, half-joking. “I’m busy.” He keeps his tone light but cautionary. He is busy and unlike them, he has something to prove.

They continue in that vein, and Austin eventually tunes them out, concentrating on his work. He knows that if he proves himself capable, he might get a chance to be assigned to a team. He’s not keen on being one of the three people left to do quality control in the pool. Even if he’s on the lowest rung of the ladder, he still wants to be part of a project. It’ll make his work history more impressive.

Plus, he would like to save up a good amount of money. He’s always paranoid about finances. Even though he keeps a rainy day fund, it’s meager at best and certainly not enough to help him properly relocate if he needs to. Not that he expects to, given his nice new job.

“Hey, guys,” Dean says, voice suddenly booming in the room. “A minute?”

“Fearless leader,” Lina says, smiling. “What’s up?”

“Project assignments go out today. Please remember that I’ve been very careful about designing each group. Teams are based on who would be strongest in each project—they’re very specific—and I’ve tried to keep past experience in mind while grouping you. Also, remember that no matter your official title, you’re all contributing. It’s important that you realize how vital each one of you is to the creation process.”

“Yessir,” Rowan says, only half paying attention.

I guess they know each other well enough for him to get away with it, Austin thinks, watching Rowan play a visual clip on his desktop. It seems like most of the animators are comfortable with each other and Dean. A good sign of things to come, he thinks. Still, he won’t relax until he proves himself.

“Good. Oh—we have some talent coming through today for test sessions. Remember, no rattling the bars for peanuts,” Dean smirks, waving them back to work as he leaves.

“Yes,” Lina hisses, clenching a fist. “Talent. You wanna spy with me, Austin?”

“How?” he asks, interested. We’d technically work near them if we were on the same project, he thinks. Not really in the same room but at least in the same building. He’s heard of deals that were made over coffee in lounges. It would be nice to make connections, especially with voice actors. They often move around companies, which means they’re good at helping spread résumés by word of mouth.

“Well, the recording booth is right next door. Besides, sometimes it’s good to see the talent at work. It lets us know if we might have to adjust animation mechanics.”

“A good voice actor won’t speak too fast,” Rowan snorts. “We shouldn’t have to adjust.”

“Yes, we know what you think,” Lina says, annoyed. “We just don’t care. It’ll be fun,” she says, redirecting her attention to Austin, “and you can take a break. You need to learn to take them, or you’ll be dead on your feet the first project you get.”

“All right,” Austin says, laughing, “I’ll play along.”

If only to do some networking, he thinks. Lina rearranges herself to watch the door, glancing up from her project every few minutes for the ‘talent’ that will supposedly walk through the front doors. By the time she makes a noise, Austin is already nose-deep in his work, not paying attention at all.

“Look,” she hisses, relocating her laptop to a table as she straightens in her seat. “Austin!”

He misses her first two attempts to get his attention and then jolts when she nudges him with her foot. When he turns, he catches the last few people coming in. The backs of their heads, that is. Lina is already grabbing a folder and tablet, rearranging a strand of hair as she rises from her chair.

“You coming?”

“Yeah. Hold on,” he says, rubbing his eyes with tired hands. “I’m getting coffee.”

“Wha—well, be quick!” she exclaims, shooing him away.

He goes to the coffee lounge, attention wandering. It’s only been a few hours, but he knows he’s been working a little too hard. His eyes feel like they’re glued open, and he closes them for a minute, reminding himself to be careful. Work smarter, not harder. He’s no use to anyone if he’s half-dead, but he can’t help it.

“They’re going in,” Lina says, ducking inside for a second. “We can follow them.”

“Okay.” He balances the cup, deciding to put a lid on just in case. The last thing he wants is to make a scene somewhere he isn’t technically supposed to be.

“Come on,” Lina whispers, twirling a stylus as she tucks her tablet under one arm.

They walk into the control booth, slipping onto a sofa at the back. One of the audio jockeys—Darren, Austin thinks—glances back at them and shakes his head at Lina. She sticks her tongue out at him.

“Why don’t we just sit around in the lounge?” Austin murmurs, sipping his coffee.

“Because that’s too obvious.”

And this isn’t? He smiles, relaxing into the sofa. There are only three people in the room: the audio guy, a woman wearing headphones adjusting things on a panel, and Dean. A simple setup, he thinks, but then again, it’s just a test.

The first person enters the booth. It’s a man, maybe in his mid-forties. He looks refined, as if he spends his weekends sipping wine on a white patio. Interesting, Austin thinks. Definitely handsome. He considers for a moment. Would it break my rule to date a voice actor? He shakes his head. If he’s honest, it would probably cause more trouble than it would be worth. Still, he can’t account for what he’ll do when drunk. Or when approached by a pretty face.

“All right, Simon. We’re just doing a run-through for audio test purposes. Don’t worry about delivery or style. We might do two or three recordings just to make sure we’ve got it right. Whenever you’re ready,” Dean says, lifting his finger from the speaker button as he finishes.

“There is much of life that is not understood,” Simon begins, tilting his head as he speaks, posture shifting, “and much more unknown.” Austin raises an eyebrow. His voice is pleasantly gravelly—the voice of a warrior, maybe, or some sort of grizzled veteran.

“Wow,” Lina whispers, leaning towards Austin, “that’s a voice I want narrating my life.”

It’s fascinating to watch the actors at work. Talent. A slow stream of them walk through—Simon first, then a younger man named Evan, then a woman named Marion, and then another woman named Sarah. Austin finds himself so wrapped up in their performances that he barely notices when the door opens again for another actor to step through.

Oh.

His mouth is dry. He thinks he can feel his heart pounding immediately, the stab painful in his chest. Something—a flush, he thinks—overtakes him. His skin seems to tingle. He wants to fight the reaction, pushing it down, but it remains just beneath the surface.

The man in the booth is exactly his age. He knows this because they went to school together. Had classes together. Were together, until the cheating, the fight, and the breakup.

It can’t be him. There are small differences—a leanness, different haircut, something soft in his expression. Still, the similarity is too obvious to ignore. He bites his lip, hoping it’s just some bizarre coincidence. He’d even take a relative over—

“Leo,” Dean says, the rest of his words disappearing into the room as Austin loses himself  in memories.

He looks even better than he did then, he thinks, a little resentful of the fact. He is the same tan, lean, and tall figure that he always had been—except now, Leo’s naturally honey-colored hair is loose and sun-kissed, streaks of gold making it luminous under the fluorescents. His eyes are a soft brown, jaw strong, and freckles dotted across his high cheekbones. He doesn’t seem to fill up the room like he used to—instead of sucking in all the light, he simply basks in it. It’s either a change, he thinks, or an act. He knows which one he’s more likely to believe.

Even knowing about Leo, he still can’t help but feel a tiny spark of admiration for him. He’s handsome, sure, but he’s also talented. His voice is smooth as silk and clear as water when he speaks, and he listens more than he talks during the process.

“That must be him,” Lina breathes. “God, men are so lucky. Just look at him.”

“Yeah. Lucky,” Austin says weakly, suddenly wishing he’d never agreed to this.

I remember when I thought I was lucky to have him, he thinks, ducking his head painfully over his tablet. He doesn’t even want to risk the other man noticing him. Leo is talking, he thinks, he tries to tune him out, forget the voice he remembers so clearly. The voice that used to speak to him in the dark, or whisper cheesy lines as they walked to class or lounged around their dorm. He suddenly knows he has to leave, before things get worse. He can’t handle a trip down memory lane, especially when it's paved with broken hearts and broken promises.

“I should get back to work,” Austin murmurs, shifting off the couch.

“Wait—” Lina tries to say, half-whispering and holding a hand out, but he moves quickly.

He pushes the door open, careful to shut it silently, and he’s just turning to walk away when the recording booth door opens.

He can only stand there, frozen, as Lina slips out behind him and Leo appears in front of them. The man blinks, glancing at them in surprise, before his smile tentatively widens. Don’t say anything, Austin prays, desperate, wanting to convey the words to Leo but unwilling to seem weak in the situation. This is my workplace. My space. He can’t hurt me here.

“Austin,” Leo beams, “I thought it was you!”

“Good seeing you,” Austin acknowledges formally, briefly ducking his head before spinning on his heel to walk away.

His heart pounds in his chest. Something urges him to go back—talk to him, see that smile one more time—and he willfully ignores it. He’s not going to be that weak. He can’t. Leo is the reason Austin has rules—the reason he avoids relationships now. There’s so much he can’t let himself do now, and the very person that caused that change is going to be working for the same company.

He thinks he can hear Lina say something hurriedly behind him before her footsteps echo in the hallway, quick behind him. She’s trying to catch up.

“What the hell?” she hisses, glancing over her shoulder as she walks alongside him. “Do you know him? Oh, my God, Austin. He’s definitely got a thing for you.”

“We just went to the same school,” Austin says, annoyed, “that’s it. And I don’t care.”

“What? He’s cute—”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s an asshole,” he blurts, immediately regretting it. I can’t just air my dirty laundry at work, especially since I’m new. He’s suddenly angry. Angry at Leo for showing up, angry at him for still being able to affect him this way. Angry at himself for caring.

“Whoa. Really?” Lina asks, opening the door. “He seemed okay.”

“I don’t know,” Austin shrugs it off. “I just...heard he’s not the best in relationships. Anyway, I don’t care. I’m not looking for anything.”

“All right,” she says, raising an eyebrow. He gets the feeling that even as she says it, she won’t let it go.

He spends the rest of the afternoon on edge, waiting for Leo to walk through the door. He’s not sure he would be able to ignore him if he came over to him. The pain of their breakup stings like a reopened cut. He wishes he didn’t care, but he can’t help it.

They had been perfect—or as close to perfect as he’s ever been able to find since. Leo was always attractive, and it had been nice to feel like the one that caught him. Austin had left classes to find Leo waiting for him, a lazy smile on his face and a cup of coffee in hand. Leo had been attentive without being overbearing. He’d paid attention to small details, remembering things like birthdays and club meetings and class times. Even before they’d started dating, Leo had been there in ways no one else had been.

It had been absolutely perfect. Austin had even almost ventured to wonder whether they’d be together permanently. Go further. And then, one month into their official relationship, he’d found out about Leo cheating. Just one incident and they’d spiraled into a breakup, graduating and leaving each other behind in fragments of something that could have been so much better.

He'd been torn apart to find that Leo was not the caring person Austin had thought he was. He’d tried to ignore the other ‘relationships’ he’d heard gossip about. A couple of weeks long, sometimes only a few days. He’d thought Leo was better than that. He’d been wrong.

“Email was just sent out,” Rowan notes, pulling Austin out of his mind.

He opens Dean’s email, holding his breath, and sees the two team rosters. His name is there, listed under the project for a horror game titled Again. He’s on a team.

He should be ecstatic, but all he can do is wonder whether Leo has been approved to work on one of the titles. If he’s going to work on the same project as Austin. He hopes with all that’s left of his heart that they stay far, far away from each other. He doesn’t think he can handle Leo reopening his wounds, especially when he’s supposed to be having the time of his life in his dream job.