CHAPTER 4 - The Cologne Incident

/THEO/

It was the morning of the interview and I had barely been able to sleep at night because of how nervous I was. 

PixelPulse Studio was one of the biggest names in the industry, and getting an interview there felt like a miracle. I spent twenty minutes just trying to get my tie straight, which was a struggle because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I wanted to look—and smell—the part. I reached into my drawer and pulled out a bottle of cologne Mayla had given me for my last birthday. It had a nice, woody scent, something that felt more "adult" than the citrus stuff I usually wore. I dabbed a bit on my neck and wrists, hoping the scent would give me a boost of confidence.

As I walked out of my room, I bumped right into Lorcan in the narrow hallway. He was heading toward the kitchen, probably for his morning caffeine fix. Usually, he’d just sidestep me like I was a piece of furniture, but today he stopped dead in his tracks.

His nostrils flared, and his blue eyes narrowed as they swept over me. For a second, he looked genuinely startled, almost like he’d been hit by something.

"Good morning!" I chirped, trying to ignore the way he was staring at me. "I have that big interview today that I mentioned before, so I’m heading out early."

Lorcan didn't say "good luck." I didn't expect him to do so to be honest. 

Instead, he took a half-step back, his expression souring into a scowl. "Rule number three, Theo."

I blinked, confused. "What? The scent rule? I just put on a little cologne for the interview. Is it that bad?"

"It’s distracting," he snapped. His voice sounded a bit strained, and he looked even more irritable than usual. "And it’s unprofessional. Don't let it happen again."

He brushed past me into the kitchen without another word. I stood there, sniffing my own wrist. It smelled fine to me—maybe a little sharper than usual, but definitely not offensive. I wondered if Lorcan was just one of those people who hated anything that wasn't scentless.

"Tough crowd," I muttered, checking my watch. I didn't have time to wash it off, so I grabbed my bag and bolted out the door.

PixelPulse Studio was located in a massive glass skyscraper in the center of the business district. Everything about the place screamed money and efficiency. The interview itself was brutal. Three different managers took turns grilling me on production pipelines, talent resource management, and how I’d mitigate "bottlenecks in the rendering phase" during high-pressure crisis scenarios.

By the time I walked out of the conference room two hours later, I felt like my brain had been through a blender. I took the elevator down to the lobby, desperately needing some fresh air.

As I walked toward the exit, I passed a group of other applicants sitting in the waiting area. They looked just as exhausted as I felt.

"Man, that was intense," one guy said, loosening his tie. "I knew they’d be tough, but that felt like an interrogation."

"What do you expect?" his friend replied, shaking his head. "It’s an Armoni Group subsidiary. They don't just hire anyone. If you make it in here, you’re basically set for life, but they only take the top one percent."

I slowed down, the name catching my attention. ‘Armoni Group.’

I stepped out onto the sidewalk, the midday sun hitting my face. ‘Armoni,’ I thought. ‘That’s a funny coincidence.’

I thought about Lorcan. He was definitely intense, and he clearly worked in business, but he lived in a residential apartment with a roommate he couldn't stand. If he were one of those Armonis, he’d be living in a penthouse and probably wouldn't be worried about sharing utility bills.

"Guess Armoni is just a common name for business people," I said to myself, checking the bus schedule. "Like how all the tech guys are named Mark or Elon."

I spent the bus ride home thinking about the job. If I got it, the salary would be enough to pay my half of the rent and start a savings account to pay back Nevan. That was the goal.

When I got back to the apartment, it was quiet. Lorcan’s door was closed, but I could hear the muffled sound of him talking on the phone. He sounded like he was arguing, which was kind of uncharacteristic of him.

I went to the kitchen to make some tea and waited for him to come out. About twenty minutes later, the door clicked open, and Lorcan stepped out. He looked stressed, his hair a bit messier than usual as if he’d been running his hands through it.

He made a move toward the coffee machine, and I decided to take a chance.

"Hey, Lorcan?"

He paused, his hand hovering over a mug. He didn't look at me, but he didn't walk away either.

"I had that interview today at a place called PixelPulse Studio," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "The other applicants were saying it’s a big deal because it’s owned by the Armoni Group. Since you’re in business too, I was wondering if you’d ever heard of them? Or if you know if they're actually a good place to work?"

Lorcan went completely still. He didn't move for several seconds, his back still turned to me. When he finally turned around, his expression was completely unreadable, though his blue eyes seemed a bit darker than before.

"I’ve heard of them," he said. It was the first time he was talking to me in days that didn't involve him reminding me of the rules. I could genuinely cry now.

"The applicants made it sound like the people who run it are pretty terrifying," I added with a small laugh. "Do you think all the Armonis are as high-strung as they say?"

Lorcan stared at me for a long beat. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just gripped his mug tighter and turned back to the coffee machine.

"I wouldn't know," he said coldly. "And I don't care. As long as you can pay your rent on time, it doesn't matter where you work."

I shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Fair enough. I just thought it was a cool coincidence that you have the same last name. Maybe it’s a sign I’ll get the job, right?"

"Go to your room, Theo," he muttered.

"Right. Rule number one. Got it," I said, giving him a mock salute.

I headed for my room, feeling strangely better. Even if Lorcan was a jerk, talking to him made the apartment feel a little less lonely. I didn't notice the way Lorcan stayed frozen by the coffee machine long after I’d closed my door, his eyes fixed on the hallway with a look of frustration.

I slumped onto my bed and pulled out my phone. I didn't have the job yet, but for the first time in a year, I felt like I was actually moving forward. I just hoped the "Armoni luck" was real, even if my roommate was the grumpiest version of it I’d ever met.