Don't Forget The Creamer

by Bethany Grace O'Brien

Cover art by Bethany Grace O’Brien

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Jugs of creamer sat in a row, a twisted sort of inside joke to anyone low on the totem pole. I grabbed the hazelnut and tipped it into my cup, watching the beige stream swirl into darkness. Laughter and conversation created an ear-grating buzz, reminding me of the perfect mistake I’d made in attending this party. ‘Everyone’s welcome, Ben. Including you.’ Deb’s tone rang in my ears as I watched her from across the room. Reading between the lines where there was nothing, my constant downfall, but I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t still entertained that thread of hope when I’d arrived. 

Even still, my chest tightened as I stared at her from across the room. I remained completely unnoticed. Quite unlike the one glued to her side like a puppy. Wesley. That lucky dog. But I supposed Deb always had a taste for power. Only she would wear a lab coat to a semi-formal event. And seeing as how I compared to one of the CEOs as being a mere employee—not to mention I worked for her, yeah, needless to say, the tension was obvious to anyone remotely paying attention. And who was Deb to try and play mediator when she was the cause of this divide? 

“Ben, come. We’re taking a group photo.” 

I gritted my teeth as Wesley waved me over. Make a good impression on the general staff. It was the founding of Syntec’s anniversary, after all. Everything was peachy. Yeah right. “Coming.” I made my way across the room, dimly lit with dismal cheer, a stupid facade of company care tainted with hidden motifs of power. Happy Syntec day, everyone. Here’s to another three hundred and sixty-five days of synthetic values and honorable intentions that made a perfect parallel with the common iceberg analogy. 

“Smile.” 

A click and the bulb flashed, then another. Surely this would make it to the bulletin board in the most obvious place to showcase the fine community spirit that made Syntec what it was today. I smiled again. 

“Now. One with the heads.” 

Jordan gave orders behind the camera, her green presence in the room a definite stand out amongst the company veterans. I maneuvered to my place in line beside Deborah, all the heads of their various trials and fields together creating an IQ that went through the roof. Everyone was here. Everyone. 

‘For the future’ on three, and I again flashed my rows of calcium phosphate for the camera. Although, ‘make it look good’ could’ve worked just fine as a replacement for the company motto. Not that anyone asked me. 

“Jordan, would you mind taking one of just us?” Wesley’s voice broke through the scene and I made eye contact with Deb as she shot me a sympathetic sort of glance at the request. I momentarily pondered whether or not the sentiment was genuine—yeah, I’m not biting on down that she’d made her choice.

“Ben, would you hold my coffee?” Wesley passed me his cup without waiting for a reply and I received it as if I were an eager-to-please intern, 

I refrained from commenting on the closeness of their pose—basically in each other’s arms—but I bit my tongue, sipping my own drink as I stepped back and out of the way next to Jordan. 

“Don’t they make such a gorgeous couple? Such brilliant minds too.” 

Nods of agreement all around and the camera clicked-flashed multiple times. I clenched my teeth, forcing another sip of—oops. Not mine. My eyes shifted back and forth as I lowered the cup, relieved when no one noticed. Not like Wes could be aware of anything with Deb’s arm around him. Wesley’s beverage filtered past my teeth and I immediately picked up on the flavor. Peppermint. My nose wrinkled. He’d insisted on Peppermint being a higher clearance seeing as how it was his flavoring of choice. Hazelnut was better, but was I gonna argue with one of the CEOs? Debatable. 

I forced a pleased expression onto my face as Deb stepped in my direction. “I’m glad you came, Dr. Cobalt.” 

Dr. Cobalt. The formality pricked like a needle punctured the skin. I nodded. Double checking that I selected the correct cup before sipping again. “Nice of the company to allow us the evening off.” I spoke over the rim of my coffee. The compliment was shallow, the best I could do under the circumstances. Make it look good. 

“Yes, everyone deserved it. Dedication is necessary, but knowing when you need to step back is also essential.” 

The inflection was obvious. Message received, Deb. Thanks for your analysis. I hated being so annoyed. But wanting something you know you can’t have feels worse. It would probably take hours for my cheeks to normalize after all this smiling. Deb turned as Wesley approached, three’s a crowd, they say… 

“Oh hey, Ben. Sorry about that.” Wes reached for his coffee. 

I honestly wasn’t sure if he forgot or just didn’t care to remember, but I opted to assume the former. He wasn’t a bad guy, just higher up on the ladder, and with a heroic disposition and connections with Nelson, Wesley Nathanial was the epitome of success. “It’s no problem.” I let the cup transfer from my hand to his and I gave a pleasant nod as he took a sip. Comedic relief producing a genuine smile at the thought of the company germaphobe drinking ‘contaminated coffee.’ Not like I had a chance to tell him I’d accidentally taken a drink out of his. But with that amount of Peppermint creamer, he probably wouldn’t notice a difference in taste if the beverage was tainted with turpentine. 

I watched him swallow, his eyes shifting toward the table at the front of the room. More likely than not, deciding whether he should add more peppermint creamer to his already over-mintified drink. “A little coffee with your creamer there, Nathaniel?” I eyed him over the rim of my own, stuffing my other hand into the pocket of my slacks. I allowed the corner of my mouth to upturn to indicate the intent as a joke. 

“You always were the observant one, Cobalt. I’ll give you that.” 

We were both left standing as Deb moved away from us, mingling with the other employees as she probably tried to not discuss work-related things at a party. She briefly looked over her shoulder and I nodded a smile. So did Wes. His attention afterward, moved to me.

“You coming in tomorrow, or did Nelson allow an additional day?” The coffee made an excellent source of attention as I attempted to converse like a normal human. Wesley inhaled the peppermint fumes, “no, actually, Nelson has some meetings scheduled for tomorrow morning.” 

Here it comes. 

“And I hate to mix business with pleasure, but he did request that I mention you were to attend. I hope that doesn’t mess with any plans you had.” 

The sentiment was genuine. Wes wasn’t a monster. I didn’t alter my gaze from Deb but I replied to his question. “I would know if you tell me what time.” 

Wes chuckled and slapped me on the shoulder as if we were old chums. “My apologies, Cobalt, I always think ahead of my speech. 9 am.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

Wes rotated his head and slipped his hand into the pocket of his black velvet blazer. “Good, I’ll let him know.” He used the same hand to offer me a handshake. I wasn’t a fool. What message did I need to receive this time? My hand slid into his and as expected, I felt a small strip of paper press into my palm. Nodding as we made eye contact, I expertly bent my fingers into a believably normal position to conceal the pass, thumbing it against the pit of my palm as I watched Wesley make his exit to the beverage table. Passing notes was such a juvenile approach to confidential information, but it got the job done. Minutes passed as I calmly waited for a chance to take a peek. A conversation with Scott and platonic howdy-dos to other members of staff before I had a solitary moment. I wasn’t unsociable. Call it caution, but I just didn’t appreciate meaningless chatter duped in fake ideas of ‘everything’s fine.’ Perhaps a bit cliche, but I envied the receptionists and interns for their innocence. Finally catching a moment alone, I spectacularly faked a sneeze into my elbow and seized the opportunity as I bent to unravel the slip of paper. 

Bring coffee for Nelson. Don’t forget the creamer. 

Right turn at the top of the stairs, third room on the left. I could recite the blueprint of Location 1 in my dreams to anyone that wanted. I inhaled the tint of cleaning solution mixed with stale overnight air as I reached the last step, the tails of my lab coat floating in the wake my movement created. My eyes caught the steam wafting up from the styrofoam cup as I glanced around the vacant space. Bring coffee for Nelson. I’d given myself more than enough time to prepare it, but I was still several minutes early. 

Voices floated toward me from the conference room and I slowed my pace, deciding to approach quietly when my curiosity got the better of me. Only a fool would stand directly in front of the door, allowing their shadow to give them away—I would stop just before, stepping the unnatural toe-heel method to cut down on noise.

I shifted the coffee to my other hand, sudden heat rising to my neck along with the goosebumps that found my arms as the awareness of being watched tingled my spine. It didn’t help that the absence of my movement allowed the room to become deathly quiet. Muffled voices murmured from the other side of the wall which created a sense of what I imagined being on the inside of a coffin could be like. I wasn’t exactly known for having a sixth sense, but I always knew when Nelson was near. That amount of brilliance seeped from him like a plague. But regardless of being dead or alive, I hated the feeling of being watched. 

I stared through the wall at the seat he probably occupied at the head of the table. He didn’t have to make eye contact to make you feel the level of tension his intimidating gaze could bestow. They didn’t even know I was here early. But still, I would be stupid if I didn’t take advantage of this opportunity. 

Having absolutely zero shame in eavesdropping, I checked over my shoulder before leaning closer to the wall. Nelson always said that the walls here have ears, and I didn’t have a problem facilitating that reality. 

“If we can’t find a solution, the project might need to be put on—” 

“No.” Nelson cut in. 

“Then what do you suggest?” Even muted, I could make out the exasperation lacing Wes’ tone. 

A Pause. Then, 

“You have my permission to pull subjects from the Pegasus section in location 3.” Nelson proposed. 

Silence followed and I could envision Wesley’s jaw working from side to side. The suggestion was ludicrous and I didn’t need to see Wes’ reaction to know that he agreed with me. The subjects at location 3 had just been transferred from basic testing. They were at least 2 weeks from being acclimated to the serum for the level of testing this project required. As head of Chemical engineering, I knew that more than anyone. It would be a complete waste of patients. I quieted my breathing as Wes continued. 

“They’re not ready.” 

Exactly. 

“But we need patients, Wesley.” 

Deb. Her voice was recognizable anywhere. I pressed closer to the wall. 

“The project will fail if we stop.” The disappointment lacing Deb’s tone was obvious to me as much as she tried to cover it. “We can’t lose all our progress.” 

“Then what do you expect me to do, Deb? Test on myself?!” Wes was heated. It sounded like he slammed something on the table. Probably his hand. 

Deb let out a sigh. Followed by a momentary silence. 

Wes started again. “We can’t continue without patients, and we can’t pull patients that aren’t ready.” 

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Nelson challenged. 

It was clear that Wesley wasn’t giving the desired response. I wasn’t oblivious to the situation either. I knew the project wasn’t moving anywhere close to the pace it needed to. Deb was siding with Nelson on this one. Against Wesley. And as much as I hated to admit that it made me smile, it did. This was the first time I’d witnessed any animosity between the couple. Well, ear-witnessed.

“Figure something out, Wesley. The project needs patients.” Nelson again, “but enough now, I’m expecting Benjamin in two minutes. We can continue this later if need be.” Office chair wheels rolled on the carpet and shadows moved in the gap under the door. I jerked back from the wall as the knob rattled, sloshing the coffee as I tried to pretend I’d just arrived. 

Wesley stepped out. His jaw muscles were tight with frustration. He walked right past me. It was as if he were a kid getting sent to his room. The spiteful sniff of a chuckle that escaped through my nose felt disgusting after it slipped, but I couldn’t help the shred of triumph I found in seeing the golden boy being put in his place. 

Deb followed Wesley out into the hall, pulling the door behind her—fatigue and stress close company to her usual peppy sort of appearance. She’d hidden it well at the party last evening, however with work at the forefront of her mind, the signs seeped through. 

A clipboard was held in the crook of her elbow and against her side. I caught the heading as she turned, noticing me. Pegasus patient status report. 

“Good morning, Dr. Cobalt.” A smile was delayed in finding its way to her face. But it looked genuine. 

“D.” I nodded in greeting. 

She stared at me—check that—stared through me with green eyes that speared jade into my own. I debated whether or not she knew I’d been eavesdropping. “Nelson is already inside.” Deborah angled the clipboard out of my view. Everything about Deb was calculated, so I deduced if she knew I’d been listening, it wouldn't matter if I saw it, so I concluded she was unaware. 

Another quick smile and a lingering glance before she stepped into a brisk pace towards the stairs. Opposite Wes. Seemed a cool-down period was needed for the duo. The doorknob rattled again and I straightened. 

“Punctual as usual, Dr. Cobalt.” The voice was silky but dangerous like poison and Syphus smiled as if we were friends rather than boss and employee. Brilliant as he may be, the man could be quite a monster. But whoever said monsters aren’t friendly? 

“Mr. Syphus.” I gave a curt nod. Perhaps monster was a bit harsh. Villain was better suited. Nelson Syphus wasn’t afraid to make hard decisions. 

He fully opened the conference room door, making it a point to block my entrance. He inhaled, lifting his chin. “Is that for me?” Nelson’s eyes remained on my own, a minuscule smile tipping the corners of his mouth. 

It was obvious he knew the answer. I met his gaze and passed the cup toward him without a reply. 

Nelson sipped the beverage and I noticed the smallest hint of pleasure flash across his eyes before he blinked in return to the usual dose of confident suspicion and observational study that was the standard expression behind those green eyes. 

Mocha. 

A smile formed on his face and he backed, allowing my entrance into the room. I hadn’t been worried. I knew I had the right creamer. I might be lower on the totem pole of power when marked next to Wesley or Nelson, but I was by no means an idiot. The whole point of the note I’d received from Wes was to indirectly relay which level of clearance was needed. In-person meetings require in-person proof that you’re supposed to be here. But the fact that it’s kept so secretive, secrets are known by only those who know, you can’t exactly run up to the door and say Mocha. You never know who might be listening. As Nelson is always apt to point out. 

‘Bring coffee for Nelson. Don’t forget the creamer.’ Creamer equals clearance needed. Nelson equals which level. The coffee is for Nelson which means the clearance needed is Executive—Nelson’s favorite creamer. Mocha. The system’s simplicity is what made it so brilliantly complex. 

I followed Syphus into the room, pulling the door in behind me. It clicked into place and I turned. Syphus had already assumed a chair at the head of the table and he gestured toward the one beside his own to the right. “Have a seat, Benjamin.” 

I didn’t miss the fact that he used my forename. He was attempting to establish a sense of comfort right off the bat. I replied with another nod and pulled out a chair, inhaling the air that whispered remains of Deb’s perfume and Nelson’s cologne. They were alike in more ways then one. 

I relaxed into the seat, the faux leather wheezing out air as my weight was distributed. Nelson’s eyes drifted down and then up, giving my appearance a once over. If I’d cared enough to remember, I would’ve shined my shoes for the occasion. Not that good impressions mattered much when secrecy was a close companion. “Mr. Syphus.” Clearing my throat was a nervous habit. But still, I found myself relying on the feeling of comfort it provided. 

“You don’t need to be nervous.” Nelson’s tone was steady. Calculated. 

Yeah, he’s that smart. I brushed some loose hair out of my eyes and blinked. “Not nervous, sir.” I’d already eavesdropped. Lying wasn't that big a jump. 

A brow raised—eyes narrowed slightly. “Very well.” He pushed the file lying on the table towards me. 

Was no one else attending the meeting? I glanced at the door. 

Syphus noticed. “We two are the only attendants of this meeting.” 

I nodded. The situation felt dirty. Like we were planning something evil. But I wasn’t leaving. I wanted to be a part of whatever this was no matter the discomfort. Maybe it’s just the general air Syphus gives off, but one on ones always made me feel a little like a lab rat. Not that I cared to entertain that train of thought seeing as how I treated patients the same way without batting an eye. I pulled the file closer, opening it. “This is a blank report?” It was more of an observation than a question. But my tone reflected the latter regardless. 

He met my gaze. And I spoke again. “I don’t understand.” 

Nelson took a sip of his coffee before speaking. “I need you to fill it. Wesley will not, so that puts it on you to do the job he couldn’t.” 

I glanced over the page. It was a single patient report. Patient reaction of the serum and their tolerance of the testing. But blank. Odd. The previous meeting’s conversation played through my mind. I understood they needed multiple patients. ‘What do you expect me to do, test on myself?’ Wesley’s heated outburst rang in the 80% of fat that makes up the human brain. 

Syphus tapped the table with his thumb. I felt his eyes on me. Again with the labrat mentality. He was CEO for a reason. That gaze was stereotypical of what one would expect. He swallowed and I watched the bob of his Adam's apple.

“Progress on Project Pegasus is not at the level it requires to succeed.” Nelson inhaled the dark roast fumes of the clearance-level coffee. “I need you to work on a way to cut down on time spent waiting for patients to acclimate to the serum.” 

I sighed. Always about speed. “I could work on something, sir, but I’m not sure it would make that noticeable a difference.” This was my field of expertise. I was actually flattered that Nelson thought it prudent to personally ask me about the task. But I wouldn’t let it cloud my judgment, even if it meant disagreeing with him. “At the rate of current testing needs, we’re burning through patients faster than we accumulate them. Regardless of their acclimation to the serum, we just don’t have as many volunteers as considered optimal. And I’m concerned the current ones are not ready for the full twin serum testing…” 

Silence followed my speech. He asked, and I told him. I assured myself. 

The air thickened as Syphus tilted his head ever so slightly to one side. “That’s not what I want to hear, Dr. Cobalt. Deborah will be disappointed.” 

I hadn’t noticed the dangerous feeling that’d crept into the air. It was as if someone had flipped a light switch. Nelson’s eyes darkened—they aimed at me. 

“Do you want Syntec to succeed, Dr. Cobalt?” Syphus challenged. 

What kind of question was that? Of course, I wanted Syntec to prosper. 

“If you’re unwilling to risk depleting our current source of subjects, Dr. Cobalt” Syphus continued, “then you need to come up with an alternative.” He paused. Then, “you might consider utilizing yourself. You’ve already had the proper amount of serum doses as required to work on this project, yes?” 

I nodded. Wait. What? Test on my—“You think I should use myself as a test subject, sir?” Nelson’s face morphed into surprise and I didn’t have enough time to discern whether or not it was planned. 

“Why would you suggest something like that?” Syphus’ head tilted again. I glanced down at the file. Did I? I allowed my eyes to just stare at him. No. He’d suggested it. An odd sense of confusion flustered my cerebral cortex as I stared at the concern on his face. 

“I know we need more patients, Benjamin, but that’s no reason to go testing on yourself just for speed.” Nelson’s words were soft—not unlike a serpent. He wasn’t necessarily a bad guy. He just wanted the best for the world. Not many saw it, but I did. Regardless of his need for secrecy and odd protocols, I understood what Syntec stood for. Hard decisions had to be made sometimes. And I needed to show Nelson that he could count on me. “Um. I suppose I could—” 

“Deb wants the project to continue, but she’ll have to get patients herself, Ben. There’s absolutely no reason for you to even think that you need to test on yourself just because Wesley is failing.” 

Deb needed the project to move forward as quickly as possible. Why hadn’t I noticed the air thicken? It was closer—darker. I blinked down at the paper. I knew the serum almost better than anyone. It would move faster if I were to— 

“But I’ll not stand in your way if it’s something you want to do, Ben. For Deb. For the sake of the company.” 

I swallowed. Something had to be done and someone had to do it. Why couldn’t it be me? Deb needed someone she could count on. It was obvious Wes cared more about his reputation than progress. I hadn’t realized Nelson had gotten so close. He was standing, holding out a hand I assumed was for me to shake. “I—suppose I would be better suited than any current patients that would be wasted if used at this moment…” I grew more accustomed to the idea as I spoke it audibly. I nodded—continued nodding as my hand slipped into Nelson’s. 

“It’s good to know I can count on you, Benjamin.” Nelson’s affirmation shewed away any other reservations I had. I was choosing the winning side. 

“I will do everything in my power to allow Project Pegasus to succeed.” I think my expression was resolute. Oddly, my internals felt like they were being squeezed by a boa constrictor. But I shook the feeling off. 

“I’ll provide all the necessary things you might require. We can begin your injections tomorrow.” Nelson released the grip and reached for his coffee. “Deborah will be very proud of you.” 

I nodded. She will be proud. 

I swiped my ID badge in the card reader and stepped into the supply room, choosing not to engage the light switch. Close the door? No, I’ll only be a second. The ground level was vacant as most had already clocked out. I was probably the only one still here—working late. As usual. I scanned the shelf of supplies. Pain killers, sedative vials, and multiple other bottles of chemicals the majority of the population were too ignorant to make sense of. I tilted a small box off the shelf and opened the top, a tube of anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial cream sliding into my palm. 

I slipped my left arm out of my lab coat and rolled up my sleeve, scanning the various puncture marks from my most recent tests. I’d been growing stronger. Able to withstand larger doses. Syphus had kept Deb informed of the progress and I was told she’d been pleased. I honestly hadn’t seen her very much recently. Not with other projects ramping up. 

I unscrewed the cap and squeezed a small glob onto my extended fingers, gently rubbing it into my skin over the puncture marks. The swelling was natural. Any instance of a needle as large as the injection gun wounding the skin—well, I wasn’t concerned in the least. I was doing what I needed to, regardless of— 

“Ben?” 

I nearly slung the tube across the room. Deb. I instantly put my back to her and shoved it into my labcoat’s pocket, quickly slipping my arm back into the sleeve, smoothing the wrinkles. “Why do you need that?” Deborah stepped closer. “I was walking the building to insure its security before I started home and I noticed this door open.” She waited for me to make some sort of noise. “Benjamin” 

I turned. “I was just closing things down in here.” Telling untruths had become easier. I didn’t even realize half the time I was doing it. But Deb did.

“Don’t lie.” Her observant gaze drifted to the bulge of my haphazardly rolled-down sleeve hidden by the arm of my lab coat. I saw the wheels of her mind spinning as she worked the connection. “What have you been injecting yourself with?” 

Why did she have to be so smart? My first instinct was to lie again. What good would that do? But surely she was aware. Nelson had been showing her the reports. She should be pleased with me. I folded my arms, “the serum is necessary for testing, D.” I shrugged. 

Deb’s pupils dilated and a hand slipped up to cover her mouth. “On yourself?” Her eyes studied mine, showcasing true concern. “That’s not wise. We have patients for the pro—” “Where do you think the reports came from?” I cut her off. Was she really oblivious to the fact that over the past two weeks, I’d been used for the majority of the testing? My face darkened. 

Deb didn’t speak. But I could see her processing the information. She hadn’t known. Likely she was too caught up with Jordan to notice that it had been my name on the files. But Deb was known for refraining to pay too close attention to the patient names. It helped soothe her conscience–so I assumed as it did with many employees. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself? You understand we can’t know the full repercussions and side effects of the serum. That is why we’re running these tests. To make it safe.” Her brows lowered, casting a shadow that concealed the vibrancy of her eyes. 

Two words are all I needed to say. “For you.” I pulled the tube from my pocket and shoved it back into its case, returning it to the shelf. 

Deb tilted her head, it honestly reminded me of Syphus the way she did it. She seemed to consider her words carefully before speaking. “Did Nelson ask you to?” The question was calculated. Almost as if she already knew the answer. 

“No.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not.” My jaw clenched. I think maybe my nostrils flared slightly. But I had a right to be frustrated. All of this was for Deb. For her. She was supposed to be proud of me. I was doing something Wesley would not. Didn’t that mean something to her? My shoulders relaxed. “Aren’t you happy with the progress we’ve been making?” I studied her face, disappointed at her reaction. 

“Not anymore.” Her tone was saddened. She took a small step closer. 

I could smell her perfume. My eyes drifted to her name tag. Deborah [redacted] A frown darkened my expression. Always with the secrets. “Don’t you care what I did for you? To help your project?!” My breathing began to quicken as heat rose in my throat. “Or do you only care about Nathaniel and his power—his authority? He wouldn’t do what I’ve done. He’s—” 

“Not foolish enough to become your own test subject in the name of progress.” Her voice was calm but determined. “Wesley—cares. He has the backbone not to be manipulated by Nelson.” 

The look in her eyes told me she regretted the outburst as soon as it happened. But it was too late. The words had already been said. Deb had called me a coward. I swallowed the fire threatening to take control of my temper and instead allowed the feeling to tighten my hands into fists. 

“Ben—”

“No.” I waved her off. “It’s clear whose side you’re on.” I stepped around her to make my exit, avoiding eye contact as I strode into the hallway, refusing to look back. All for her and she still chose him. But I decided then and there that I wouldn’t let my judgment be so clouded by emotion again. I would prove my worth to the company. One way or another.

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