Page 46 of Infamous Heart

I had seen it from Sebastian, and even Rebecca, the cockiness that came with the employees of Revelations. I might look the part, or at least a low-budget version. The question on my mind right now, could I keep from hurling on the floor as I attempted to play the part?

Deep inhale. “Yes. At least enough that I’ve picked out my desk. Phillip is going to need to move to the shared workspace.”

His eyes widened. Subtle. He managed to hold the rest of his face perfectly in place, but I had piqued his interest. He had turned to face me, finally, the entirety of his attention was now focused on me. I thought about reaching into my messenger bag and pulling out my portfolio, but this required him to believe I understood the ethos of Revelations.

“What is good and evil?”

“Am I being quizzed?” His head cocked to the side as his eyes narrowed.

“Do you answer questions with questions?” Alejandro’s jaw would have dropped as I tried to imitate that suave personality that landed him a non-stop line of overnight guests.

“It’s a societal construct, moving as the populace grows and evolves,” he answered slowly.

“So, would you say the superheroes of Vanguard are good or evil?”

He started to speak and stopped. Leaning back against his desk, his pointer fingers tapped against the wood as he considered the question. Damien Vex studied me, trying to understand where I was going with this line of questioning. The smile had vanished, and I couldn’t tell if he was amused with my new approach to requesting a job.

“Is a man good if he saves a babe from a burning building so he can be on the news?” I asked.

This was the longest conversation we had where he didn’t hurl an insult. Either I was learning, or I had piqued his curiosity enough to satiate the bully in him.

I continued. “I think they do good things for society, but intent matters. Catering to their egos creates monsters that we call protectors.”

I understood the goals of Revelations enough to predict his answer. I reached into my messenger bag and produced the black binder holding my newly designed spread. I started to hand it to him, but pulled back as his hand reached to receive it.

“Revelations stands between the light and dark, good and evil, right,” I handed him the portfolio, “and wrong.”

I held my breath, worried I had overplayed my hand. Had I built up my work too much? Was that actually the purpose of Revelations? I didn’t know how Alejandro kept up the bravado all evening and not pass out behind the bar.

“Infamous Hearts?” Damien read. The words were accusatory. I had to rally, or he might not look any further.

“You wanted a look behind their heroics. As an avid comic book fan, I can promise you, your prime demographic will understand that every hero is defined by their heart.”

He skimmed through the article, and I couldn’t tell if he read the drivel. I wasn’t a writer, nor would I ever claim to understand their job. It was enough to let the design speak on the page.

“You used genuine charcoal?”

“Yes, sir.” I had made the chalky substance for college and thought there was no time like the present to break it out. I used burnt wood to grind into the page, sprinkling debris on the paper, tarnishing the white space. It covered the right margin of the page, where I had cut out a painting of liquid black and layered on top, a giant white figure made of light.

“You’ve essentially turned this fledgling hero into the villain. There is pure vitriol on the page, as if you had a grudge against this up-and-coming hero.”

“I put my faith in the hero.” I could feel my face flush as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other in hopes of alleviating the anxiety. “I know better now.”

“Is this your best work?”

“Not even close,” I admitted. Given a few days, I could have made it a showstopper. Right now, it was enough to impress another designer, but it hadn’t reached the level I knew I was capable of achieving.

A warm tone filled the air. Our eyes remained locked in a showdown, chucking daggers at one another. The door behind me opened, and I held perfectly still. I must have barged in just before a scheduled meeting.

He walked up to me, to the point where our chests almost touched. He handed the portfolio to somebody behind me. “Thoughts?” He took a step back, waiting to hear the new couple’s opinion of my work.

I could smell him before I turned. The cologne mingled with his scent enough that I blushed at the thought of him naked in bed. I wanted to turn around and slap him across the face. But even as the thought entered my head, guilt tugged at my heart.

“Introductions are in order,” Damien started. “Sebastian, you know,” I turned slightly, dreading the second name he was about to announce.

“Rebecca is the head of our marketing.”

“We’ve met,” I said. I expected her to be covered in bruises, perhaps missing a tooth from the sucker punch Slipstream delivered. Either she walked away unscathed, or she had a miracle touch with make-up.

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