Cael left the room with his head down, still stinging from Lena's scolding.
The blue sphere and cardboard box were safe on the table, but the water puddle on the carpet haunted him like a reminder of his screw-up.
He trudged through the 12th-floor hallway of ArcanTech Industries, desperately searching for a rag or mop.
He didn't want to ask anyone—not after Lena had made him feel like an idiot.
But time was ticking, and the show was about to start.
The hallway buzzed with suited-up people, men and women with ID badges hurrying along, talking on phones or checking tablets.
Some shot him sideways glances, noting his wrinkled suit and nervous expression, but no one stopped to help.
Cael tried approaching a woman with a briefcase, forcing a smile.
"Excuse me, do you know where I can find a rag?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck.
The woman looked him up and down, frowning.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped. "This isn't a storage closet. Ask at reception." Then she marched off without another glance.
Cael sighed, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
He tried again with a man in glasses carrying a stack of folders.
"Uh, sorry, do you know where I can get a mop or something?" he asked, his voice quieter this time.
The man barely looked at him.
"You new? Janitors are in the basement," he said, brushing past.
Cael clenched his fists, frustrated.
'This is ridiculous,' he thought, scanning the hallway.
He couldn't waste more time. The show was starting soon, and if he didn't clean up the mess, Lena would be even angrier.
He decided to head to the basement, but just as he reached for the elevator, he spotted a man pushing a cleaning cart at the end of the hall.
The man wore a dark blue uniform with a badge reading "Janitorial Staff" and a name: [Ramón].
He was older, with gray hair and a trimmed beard, whistling a tune as he moved the cart.
Cael hurried over, relieved.
"Excuse me, sir!" he called, raising a hand.
The man turned, a warm smile on his face.
"I'm Cael Blackwood. Could you help me? I need a rag or a mop—I made a mess in a room."
Ramón raised an eyebrow, but his smile didn't fade.
"A mess, huh? What happened, kid?" he asked, leaning on the cart. His voice was kind, easing Cael's embarrassment.
Cael scratched the back of his neck, staring at the floor.
"It was an experiment. I was testing my invention, and… well, water spilled on the carpet. It was an accident."
Ramón chuckled.
"Don't worry, it happens. Tell me where the mess is, and I'll take care of it. It's my job, after all."
Cael blinked, surprised.
"Oh, no, you don't have to. My girlfriend said I had to clean it myself. I don't want to get her in trouble."
Ramón tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Your girlfriend? She work here?"
"Yeah," Cael said, nodding. "Her name's Lena. Lena Grayson. She works on the 15th floor, I think."
Ramón's face shifted for a split second, like he recognized the name, but he quickly flashed his smile again.
"Got it. But look, kid, the cleaning crew handles this stuff. It's not a job for a guy like you, all suited up. Let me deal with it."
Cael's cheeks flushed again.
"Well… alright," he said, scratching his neck. "But let me at least show you the room. I don't want anyone thinking I'm dodging responsibility."
Ramón laughed, giving the cart a pat.
"Fair enough. Lead the way, then. Happy to do some work."
They walked together down the hall, the cleaning cart rattling behind them.
Ramón resumed whistling, and Cael felt a bit more at ease.
There was something about the man that made him easy to talk to, like he didn't judge anyone.
As they went, Ramón broke the silence.
"So, you're pretty smitten with that girlfriend of yours, huh?" he asked, his tone playful.
Cael grinned, a warmth spreading in his chest.
"Totally!" he said, more eagerly than he meant to. "Lena's amazing. She's super smart, works here at ArcanTech, and got me this opportunity. Her name's Lena Grayson—you might know her."
Ramón nodded slowly, but his smile tightened.
"Yeah, I've heard of her," he said, his tone careful.
He paused, as if choosing his words.
"Just… watch yourself with her, okay? Sometimes people aren't what they seem."
Cael frowned, confused.
"Watch myself? Why do you say that?" he asked, stopping in the hallway.
But before Ramón could answer, they reached the room's door.
Lena was inside, sitting in a chair, frowning as she pocketed her phone.
When she saw Cael walk in with Ramón, her expression hardened.
"Cael, what are you doing? I told you to clean it yourself, not drag someone else into this," she said, pointing at the box on the table. "Grab that and hurry up—we don't have all day."
Cael felt a stab of guilt.
"Sorry, Lena, but he insisted on helping," he said, gesturing to Ramón, who was already pulling a mop from the cart.
Ramón sighed, shaking his head.
"Kids," he muttered, more to himself than to them. Then he started mopping the water puddle on the carpet, his movements quick and precise.
Lena stood, crossing her arms.
"Whatever. Pick up your invention, Cael. We need to get to the show now."
Cael nodded, rushing to the table. He packed the blue sphere and tools into the cardboard box, double-checking everything was in place.
As he did, he felt Lena's eyes on him, but she stayed silent.
The tension in the air was thick, and Cael couldn't shake the feeling he'd let her down again.
Ramón finished mopping and stowed the mop in the cart. Before Cael left, the janitor stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, kid," he said quietly, so Lena wouldn't hear. "Just remember what I said. Be careful, alright?"
Cael blinked, still puzzled by Ramón's words.
"Careful with what?" he asked, but Lena was already calling from the door.
"Cael, let's go!" she snapped, her tone impatient.
Cael glanced at Ramón and nodded.
"Thanks for the help, sir. And… good luck with your work."
Ramón smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.
"You too, kid," he said, returning to his cart as Cael followed Lena down the hall.
Lena led him to an elevator, and they rode up to the 12th floor, where the show was happening.
When the doors opened, Cael stepped into a massive hall with a brightly lit stage at the center.
Rows of seats were packed with spectators—some ArcanTech employees, others investors in expensive suits. Cameras on tripods recorded everything, and a giant screen behind the stage displayed the ArcanTech logo.
The host, a tall woman with blonde hair tied in a bun, spoke enthusiastically into a microphone.
"Welcome to the ArcanTech Industries Innovation Event!" she said, her smile radiant. "Today, amateur inventors will present their projects to our executives, hoping to secure funding for their groundbreaking ideas."
She gestured to three people seated at a table in front of the stage.
"Let me introduce the executives judging the projects. First, Mr. Victor Kade, Director of Research and Development."
A man in his fifties, with black hair streaked with gray and thin-framed glasses, raised a hand to wave. His tailored navy suit and serious expression suggested he analyzed everything around him.
"Second, Mrs. Elena Marrow, Head of Technological Strategy," the host continued.
A woman with short brown hair in an elegant gray dress nodded with a professional smile. Her sharp eyes hinted she wasn't easily impressed.
"And finally, Mr. Darius Holt, President of ArcanTech Industries," the host said.
An older man with a neatly trimmed white beard and a flawless black suit tilted his head. His hands rested on the table, and though he smiled, there was something intimidating about him.
Lena leaned close to Cael, whispering.
"You're up first," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Cael swallowed hard, feeling the air drain from his lungs.
'I don't want to be part of this circus,' he thought, clutching the box to his chest.
The idea of stepping onto that stage, with all those cameras and executives staring, filled him with dread.
But there was no turning back now.