Sublimation(58)

“Fun, who’s the girl?”

“Just someone I went to school with. Moved to the States, we reconnected a while ago.”

“Cool. Very cool,” Drew says.

“Yeah,” you say.

If you hadn’t been caught off guard, you’d be better at the small talk. You don’t have a lot to say to Drew that isn’t either platitudes or the sort of question that’s too deep to plunge into in the middle of the office.

“So, nothing crazy. Just noticed that you’d tapped into twenty-six.”

“Yeah?” you say slowly. “Are you checking my—are you checking my keycard logs?”

“What, no! That’d be crazy. Like 1984 or something. No, I just get a log of everyone who’s tapping into twenty-six. Just saw you punch into the lab for the first time.”

Your shoulders are suddenly very tense. You realize you’re clenching your teeth tight enough to hurt your jaw.

“And?”

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t do that again for a bit,” he says. “Sorry. But the technical stuff shouldn’t affect your day-to-day, anyway.”

You take a deep breath. Your jaw hurts.

“Drew. You put me in charge of the project. Yes, I’m just following the plan that was previously given to me, and realistically, I understand this, I get what my role is here, but in practice, this all feels a little like I’m being shafted. Like—”

“No, man, I get it! Look, we gotta get some red tape sorted. I don’t want to go into it over the phone, but there’s a couple of issues because you’re not a citizen, and because you’re an instance. Nothing insane, just—it’ll take a minute. So if you don’t mind staying out of the sensitive stuff for a bit, like, the lab stuff, it’d be good.”

“Drew—”

“Just a couple months, nothing that affects things for you, honestly.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned this when you promoted m—”

“Honest to god, I thought it was red tape that we’d cut through faster,” Drew says.

“What sort of red tape is this?” you say.

He’s silent for a moment. You frown.

“Do we have a government contract for Mitosis? Is that why?”

It was the first thing that jumped to mind. Why would something be barred from your view, too sensitive for you, if it wasn’t something government? If it was just private industry, then there would be no reason to bar you, unless Drew was trying to mess with you for some reason. And if he was trying to mess with you—well, you couldn’t do anything about it. He’s your boss.

“Jesus, I love and hate it when the people I’m working with are smart. Look, if this was something government, I wouldn’t be telling you about it over the phone. You’re here on an H-1B1, yeah?”

You nearly bite through your cheek. You try to take the most surreptitious deep breath possible.

“I don’t think this is an appropriate topic of conversation.”

“No, hey, no. Another thing I was going to bring up, since we’re talking. Look, we can get the lawyers to fast-track your citizenship stuff. Whatever arrangement you want. I know that it usually takes a hot minute.”

He says it so easily. Like he’s not dangling the carrot in front of you: a bribe to get you to shut up. Like it’s a simple thing to give, and a normal thing to offer.



* * *



For a long time, you had been bitterly, embarrassingly desirous, throat-clenchingly greedy, almost lustful, over Yujin’s memories. It had been the worst, the first six months. Whenever Yujin talked about your Korean friends, or what he was doing with your parents, or—sometimes the craving would hit at the strangest, most offhand moments. When he said something about getting Baskin-Robbins. When he mentioned going to noraebang. When he said your mom was thinking about getting a new couch. It was never anything that had made sense. But god, you had wanted his memories. You still want them, sometimes. But you don’t miss it. You’ve learned to hold your desires in and sharpen them to a narrow point.



* * *



“I’d appreciate it,” you say, heart in your mouth, trying to keep your voice level. “I’ve been angling for dual citizenship, if possible.”

“Sure,” he says. “Alright. I gotta get some sleep. Appreciate if you could keep my request in mind. Good luck on your date.”

“Thanks,” you say, and hope that it doesn’t sound too hollow.

He hangs up.

You rub the space between your eyes. What was that interaction? Why did he offer you citizenship, unprompted? It was only tangentially related. You don’t like that he can play with your emotions like this, that your future is something that is so easy for him to give that he can dangle it casually in this conversation, that he thinks you can be bribed. You’re angry that you can be bribed. You’re angry, for the same reason you have been angry your entire adult life. But you need this. You need this more than you need answers. Every job you’ve had has just been a means to an end.

You look at the glass walls and the faint sight of Manhattan beyond. Your reflection stares back. You imagine Yujin, sitting there. You imagine Yujin no longer existing. You rub your eyes again. You text Megan. Politely. Just a hey, wanted to talk to you about the promotion, if you’re free? Sorry to keep following up.