Sympathetic Apathy by Tyler McAlister (e book reader pc TXT) 📕

none too excited to see what I found.  There was my girlfriend, Vivian, a blonde haired woman who was just a little bit shorter then me and height but not lacking in personality, for someone who enjoys upbeat people that is, I merely had her about so I could maintain an image, she runs up and hugs me after I've made my way down the steps of the set, I have to remind her of what personal space is and why it's an important factor when dealing with someone like me, but before I can finish I'm interrupted, "WHAT THE FUCK"?!  

I can only assume this is the filmmaker I'm supposed to speak to, he orders my girlfriend back onto the stage and then turns to me, "Who the fuck are you?  Are you an actor?  GET THE FUCK OFF MY SET".  

While no doubt I deserve to be shouted at like this, from his perspective this is completely unwarrented, and impolite, especially to someone who's funding your bullshit creation.  I infrom him who I am, this subtles his tone, I still haven't caught his name by this point but we go ahead and watch the film in which he has created, or rather, he watched his film and I imagined all of the different highways that the money we spent on this could have gone to, I almost felt like the charity would've been a more profittable experience then this.  

I feel betrayed, dirty, economically raped.  

This will be fixed, after we get out of the film screening, he asks me what I thought of the film.  I compared it to that of Space Jam (the god awful Looney Tunes movie with Micheal Jordan),  offended, he tries to defend the god awful piece of work we just saw, no doubt, I should have seen this coming from a filmmaker, but being the BUISINESS man I am, I give him 3 weeks, exactly 3 fucking weeks to redo all of this, I know this is an impossible task, but I do it anyways, who is he to stop me?  I own his whole production. He can't tell me what is and what isn't, that's my job, I've put my head phone's back in, and am now listening to Huey Louis and the News, he's talking some non sense, something about, wait, Raymond?  How does he know about that?  I can't let him know I'm concerned but, he somehow knows Raymond stopped by my house?  I need to leave.  

This man knows too much and I don't like the direction that this is heading.  I tell him there's no negiotating here, I begin to walk away, I notice, no argument from him, he merely turns around and heads out the other door, as if nothing happened, what was the man?  Was it a man?  What sort of human would react so inhumanely?  What was WRONG with this person?  I feel like he may be my match.  Perhaps I'm over reacting a bit, I mean, I'm a well known individual, in both the business and the crime world, but I'm not dangerous, he must know this, was nothing, perhaps he had met Raymond before hand.  

It was nothing, I felt hungry, I needed to make a quick stop, perhaps a Subway would do me in fine, it's fast enough, while I'm not a common eater of cheap foods as it's below me, it's certainly needed at this moment.  A quick stop there, then back to the office.

Chapter 4: Return To The Office, Make Way For The Bar

 

The filmmaker was a fucking fool.  Just like the rest of the people I'd met today, it was simply an off day for me today.  Fuck's sake.  Every day is, every day is the same.  Fools, all of you, fucking fools.  I'd lost track of the time some how, I was supposed to meet Vivian at the bar in 20 minutes, I need to make it quick or I'll be late, something I simply do not tolerate from myself, why would I tolerate it from anyone else?  

Back to my car, not even notifying Nancy I was in such a hurry.   While I don't relatively care about what Vivian thinks, I do care about whether I'm on time or not.  

I arrive outside the structure, it's gated in like a private community.  I sway the gate open and make my way towards the patio area of the bar.   Wait a moment, that's the filmmaker from earlier, what's he doing here?  For that matter, where's Vivian?  The time to be here has past, I'll give her a call right now.  

The phone rings for about four tones before she finally answers.  I ask, her where are you?  She says she's having trouble finding the place.  I make my way towards the back alley area of the bar incase the discussion turns heated.  The bar is playing a smooth jazz tune and I wouldn't want to ruin the ambiance.  

Upon going through the door way I find the individual from earlier, the boy scout, Douglass I believe.  He appears to be pissing into a trash can.  Confused but still maintaining my conversation with Vivian, I decide to let her know that our relationship is over and I will not tolerate someone being late.  

Now to confront the boy scout.  He hasn't realized, or noticed, who I am yet.  "What the fuck are you doing?"  I asked him, to which he retorted, "What the fuck does it-"  A sweep of realization came over his face as he began to grip the gravity of the situation.  "Vincent!  Vincent!" he shouts to what I can only assume is the rest of the bar.  I've been waiting to meet the ever present Vincent since Douglass mentioned him a few hours ago.   The door that let to the bar swings open, at first the light is too bright for me to be able to tell who it is.  As my eyes adjust to the light I come to the realization that it's the filmmaker from earlier, that's who Vincent is?  This force to be reckened with is one of my employees?  Hardly laughable, by this point Douglass has fallen to the ground in a drunken stuper of some sort.  I'm fed up.  

All I wanted was a nice night out and I'm greeted to this, a drunk, a failing employee, and a now ex girlfriend whom I hope to never hear from again, repulsive, the situation is absolutely repulsive, and I won't stand for it any more, these two we're now arguing with each other over what, I don't even know as I was no longer listening.  "Fuck you!  Fuck you! You're fired! You're fired!"  and I made my exit, knowing that firing the filmmaker would come back on me in a bad way but that's a situation I'm willing to put up with.  

I needed to go back to work, to file some papers and then I would head home, hopefully not to my brother again.  I also promised my mother I would call today.  I must tend to these other obligations, my work was finished for today.  But there will always be a tomorrow, with new work, new possibilites.  

Act II: Vincent Nash

 

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Chapter 5: To Mason's

 

There was me, that is Vincent, and my good friend Douglass on the floor.  Douglass had just gotten him and I out of our jobs.  Infuriated on the inside but calm and cold on the outside per usual.  My instincts work quickly, I have to go see Mason, he's about the only hope I can have in a sitution like this right now.  Thomas isn't going to get away with what he's done to me.  

Douglass in his drunken stuper is wanting to come along but I can't let that happen.  "I want to go see Mason too", alright, let me help you up buddy, I help him up, but not before popping him in the leg with a bullet from the uzi I was carrying.  

It tore through just quickly enough to where he'd be downed, but there'd also be no injury, while drunk he still felt the sting of the bullet, and was now screaming like a banshee.  

On my way out I make sure the bartender understands the stipulations of what's happening while waving my gun at him like a mad man.  What he hears in there, he doesn't hear, and for $70, he'll lock up and close shop right now, and for my final question "Do you see me?"  To which he replies, "see who sir?"  Luckily he understood the concept so sadly I didn't get to pump him full of lead like I would have any other witness.  

Upon getting to my car I wait to confirm that the bartender is leaving and isn't calling the cops.  A few bullets and some money can ALWAYS sway things in your favor.  

On my way to Mason's now.  To talk about the cock sucking CEO that just robbed me of two jobs I worked, oh so hard to get.  Mason's house wasn't too far off from the bar.  I'd get there quickly, no issues.  

The problem was explaining the issue to Mason without him losing his shit, in this world, you have two types of psychos, and Mason and I are examples of those two types.  Mason, with the proper time and planning, can be really smart about going through things, but in the heat of the moment, he panics.   I'm the opposite, but of course I'll always turn to violence when it's a possiblity, sweet, sweet violence.  

I pass parked cop cars on the way there, this is good, this means