Chapter Text
“Junk, junk, junk, garbage, garbage, garbage… huh.”
Reagan absently scrolled through her emails, finding it easier than all of the actual work she had to do.
She paused on an email from “Av’rajj, Joe,” which was the Illuminati’s online pseudonym (made to avoid suspicion from regular citizens), and read the subject line. Congratulations!, it read. Jesus Christ, even the timing is conspicuous, she thought. Reagan opened the email.
Congratulations on the promotion, Doctor Ridley!
As a gift, we are granting you a free ticket to Hamilton in Ford’s Theater, tonight at 8 o’clock sharp! Lin-Manuel Miranda himself will be there to star tonight and tonight only!
We hope to see you there!
Best wishes,
Joe & friends
She shook her head. She knew it was probably some ploy to pull her aside and interrogate her about Ron. Reagan didn’t want the ticket to go to waste, though. She pulled out her phone, contemplating her options.
rr: hey brett. pal. buddy
brett!!: HI REAGAN!!!!!! :)))
rr: sooo i was given a free ticket to see hamilton in ford’s theater tonight but i think the illuminati only gave it to me to interrogate me about ron
brett!!: ofc i’ll go !!
rr: can y
rr:
rr: how did you know i was. going to ask.
brett!!: brett prepares for anything and everything dawg! also ur my bestie i would do anything for you :))))
brett!!: hand’s the man, as they say!!!
rr: who’s “they”
brett!!:
brett!!: alr BYE REAGAN I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!
Reagan sighed. Brett’s overzealous tendencies were endearing, but still a bit much at times.
The inventor left her lab and entered the main office, where her coworkers were doing anything but their jobs. Andre and Myc were passing a bong back and forth, Gigi was taking a numerous amount of selfies, and Glenn was chowing down on a plate of ambiguously simple fish. Brett wasn’t even in the room. “God, guys! We have a fucking job to do! Just because my shitty dad’s not in charge doesn’t mean you don’t have a boss!” Reagan shouted.
Everyone looked up. “Man, now I wish Brett stayed our boss. He was less mean but his white man powers made him intimidating,” Myc remarked. “Okay, Myc’s blatant racism and misogyny aside yet again, I think it’s time to discuss our next mission,” she frowned, whispering the next part, “which you would have known about if you’d paid attention.”
Reagan stormed to the front of the room and slammed her palms down on the table. “Rumor has it that there’s an employee in this building exposing some of our business practices on Reddit. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem because we could track the IP down to the computer; however, this whistleblower is experienced in tech, because they’ve made it seem like they have no prior existence on the planet.” Everyone in the room looked bored of her voice at that point.
“Now, which department this could be from, I have no idea, but I need you all to find them and have them brought to my office as soon as you do.”
Various replies of “yes, ma’am,” and “whatever” were thrown her way. “Gigi, wait,” Reagan called, holding up a hand to stop her. The woman in question looked at her with an exasperated face. “I want you to do damage control. Get all of our information off of wherever it can be found.”
Gigi gave her a thumbs-up and left.
Reagan left the room, heading towards Brett’s office. When she walked in, she found him playing with the dog he had kept—the one he called “Regular Bud.” Whatever. The animal made Brett happy, so she had no qualms with the dog being there. “Hey, Brett! I was wondering where you were,” she remarked, leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed leniently.
Brett whipped his head around to look at her. “Oh, hey, Reagan!” he greeted, and his ever-present smile seemed brighter than usual. “I was tryin’ to spend time with Regular Bud, because he was probably getting lonely being alone too long and was beginning to question his self-worth and his standing with all of his friends because of his abandonment issues!” Brett grabbed either side of Regular Bud’s face, squishing it and touching noses. “Isn’t that wight, lil dude?” he asked in a babying voice.
Reagan cleared her throat, pushing past his clear projection of his issues onto a dog, and brought herself back to why she came. “I, uhh, actually came to say that I’d be happy to drive you to the theater after work. The drive is a bit long and you probably won’t have time to stop at home. I can watch Air B- sorry, Regular Bud for the night.”
Her best friend shot up, arms splayed happily. “That’d be great, Reags! Man, you’re the best!” He ran over and hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground an inch or two before setting her down. “Dude, a free ticket to a musical and a car ride with my best friend? Gosh, I can’t think of a better way to spend a Friday!” Reagan shook her head, amused. “See you later, then?” she asked. Brett nodded cheerfully, giving her two thumbs-up before returning to playing with his opposably-thumbed animal companion.
Reagan headed downstairs to find Glenn angrily interrogating a water tank—wait, no, it was just Steve. “You’re gonna tell me what you did, or you’re a liberal and a terrorist!” he screamed at the deformed being, jabbing an accusing finger into the water jug. “L-look, man, if I knew, I’d tell you!” Steve whimpered. “Don’t think I haven’t seen that confounded ‘Reddit’ hoodie, traitor!” Glenn exclaimed, using air quotes around “Reddit.” Reagan just sighed. She walked down another hall to find Myc strangling a man from accounting, yelping about “misinformation” and “calling Joe Rogan on your ass” and other stupid shit.
The brunette turned on a dime and walked away. She did not want to deal with that bullshit.
She made her way to Andre’s lab, where Andre seemed to be getting hooked on truth serum, instead of using it on potential rumormongers like she had hoped.
Gigi was the only one doing anything productive, as she was running news stories about conspiracies about Atlantis (those assholes have had it too good for too long) and corporatized news manufactured specifically to distract the general public. “How’s it lookin’, Reagan?” she asked. Reagan frowned. “You’re the only one getting anything done, so… not good. Keep up the good work, though!” She gave her coworker an awkward, crooked smile before leaving the room.
The end of the day couldn’t approach fast enough. No one had caught the snitch, and Reagan’s patience was running thin.
A soft knock on the office door startled her from her thoughts. “Hey, Reags,” Brett said cheerfully, opening the door with Regular Bud in tow. “I do not want that dog in the office.” “Ah, sorry… I was just seein’ if you were ready to head out? It’s seven, so…” He pulled at the collar of his button-up anxiously. “Give me a minute to finish some work, okay?” Reagan tiredly leaned forward, hand on her forehead keeping her upright. “Okay, well… I’ll just… wait for you.” She sighed, frustrated. “Okay!”
The door clicked shut, and the office was empty sans Reagan. Sighing, she scrolled through her computer, double- and triple-checking to see if the whistleblower had given away any information about themself. She had no luck.
When she left the office, she found Brett leaning anxiously against the wall across from her door with Regular Bud loyally at his heel. He seemed to be stressing himself into a fit, religiously combing through his hair with his fingers and breathing louder than normal. “Uh, Brett, I’m all done here. We can head out,” Reagan tried, softly. Brett gave her a strained smile. “Yeah yeah yeah yeah totally,” he said, words coming out fast enough to blend together.
When they entered the elevator, Reagan looked at Brett’s face since he was standing closer. He was pale and sweaty. “Brett, I’m… not mad at you,” she started, grimacing at the way he flinched, “I promise. You did nothing wrong. I just had a long day today and, like, zero sleep last night. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” Brett’s head snapped towards her hopefully. “You mean it?” “Of course I do, you doof. Now come on, I gotta get you to your show.” She playfully punched him on the shoulder as the elevator hit the main level.
They left the building, Regular Bud in tow. Brett opened the backdoor of Reagan’s car to let the canine hop in before getting into the passenger seat himself.
“You excited?” Reagan asked while she started the car. Brett pumped his fists, yelling “Heck yeah!” The driver laughed and shook her head. Out of her peripherals, she saw Brett plug his phone into the aux and turning on “Accidentally in Love.” “What is your deal with this song?” Reagan laughed. Brett smiled as a passionate look grew onto his face. Dramatically wiping away a tear, he stated, “Shrek 2 is the best, most artistically cinematic piece of media I have ever consumed. It’s not just a movie, it’s a film.” Regular Bud barked approvingly from the backseat.
Brett turned around to pet his dog. “Yeah, you have good taste in movies, huh?” he cooed.
After a few runs of “Accidentally in Love,” followed by Pitbull songs to fill the background behind Brett and Reagan’s mirthful conversation, the two pulled into the street by the theater. “Well, this is where you get off. Give me a text when it’s over, okay?” Reagan called as Brett got out of the car. “You got it, Reags!” He winked and pointed a finger gun at her before turning around and walking away, pulling up the ticket’s QR code on his phone.
Reagan watched him walk for a minute before she drove away, taking Regular Bud home for the night.
Brett was directed towards his seat: an aisle chair not far from the front of the stage. “Sick!” he whispered to himself, pumping an enthusiastic fist. He picked up popcorn from the lobby and sat down in his seat, anxiously awaiting the beginning of the show.
Reagan’s phone vibrated, waking Regular Bud from her lap while she tiredly watched Interstellar with him.
brett!!: hey reags the show is over im just waiting to get out!
rr: alright, im omw dude
Reagan hopped in the car, leaving Regular Bud inside to sleep.
She arrived after around twenty minutes. People were filing in and out of the building.
Reagan pulled out her phone.
rr: i’m here dude
She waited. Five minutes passed.
rr: you there? im outside
Five or six more minutes. Maybe he was in the bathroom?
rr: brett?????
rr: hello!???
rr: dude i am here
He never answered.
Brett never came.
Reagan bit her lip anxiously, looking at the receipts.
Delivered, 10:26.