“How…progressive of you,” I said, barely keeping the sneer from my voice.
His eyes narrowed before he flipped the screen back over, scrolled with his finger, and cleared his throat. “Let’s see…‘How Division is the Status Quo and How Compassion is Rebellion.’Then there’s‘It Costs to be Kind, but That Doesn’t Mean it Isn’t Worth the Cost’, ‘In Times of Hate, Love is a Weapon’, ‘Unity is Built Through Compassion, not Through Force,’and…well there’s quite a library here. All works you put out a few years ago, as a matter of fact, and that’s not all. I found quotes that were just as…progressive.”
I hated the twist in my gut at the reminder of the person I had been, the person who had been changed and warped over the past few years. Back when I had believed in the better part of humanity, when I thought hope, love, compassion, and understanding were our ways forward. That was before, though; this was now. I had learned my lesson; people were fickle creatures, more often cruel than kind, and willing to turn a blind eye to the dangers looming over their heads if it meant they got to continue to live their lives in relative, if dwindling, peace.
“I was right about one thing,” I ground out. “Youareannoying as fuck.”
“Oh God, yes,” he said, locking the screen and setting the device aside with a grin. “Have been my entire life. Just ask my father.”
“Your father?”
“He was the first to tell me I was an annoying creature. Daily reminders weren’t unheard of.”
I made a face. “I don’t know what to react to first, your obvious daddy issues, or that you’re so open about them.”
“Oh, my father was a dirty rat bastard who didn’t know the meaning of kindness, and wouldn’t know what love was if it smothered him in his sleep,” Reggie said with a laugh. “And there’s no point in hiding an old wound that only hurts me now in the same way a sudden bright light makes your eyes hurt before they adjust. For all the pain he caused, even his cruelty paled compared to what I would find later in life.”
“Yeah, well, life’s a bitch. I know that better than most,” I said, but the normal venom in those words felt weak and drained. It was hard to be bitter and cynical in the face of someone who had gone through his own shit but had got through without turning out…well, turning out like me.
I hated him for that.
“Life is indeed a bitch,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “But that doesn’t mean we have to be one.”
I stared at him for a moment before letting out a surprised laugh. “Alright, call me out, why don’t you? Damn, are you like that with all the people here? I’m starting to understand why some of them might not be getting better.”
Reggie winked. “I’ve found it’s better to deal with people as they are, or rather, how they would respond best. Using kid gloves with you is just going to get my fingers ripped off. Which presents an interesting question who my Guide for you is going to be. I had an idea, but I think I’m going to pivot. No matter, it’s not vital that you have a Guide from day one. But about that deal.”
I sighed, waving my hand and shaking my head. “Fine, fine. I’ll be an open-minded good boy and try to look at things through a not-bitter lens, alright?”
“And I won’t be too annoying,” he said with a grin. “But how about we get moving? It’s quite early, but there should still be enough life for you to meet a few people while I give you the tour and show you to your room.”
“If I squint just right, I might pretend this is just a vacation at a really fancy resort,” I said with a snort as I stood up and prepared to follow him.
“To be honest, we have the Rest and Recuperation programs for people to do just that,” he said with a shrug as he opened the door and took me back into the hallway, heading toward anelevator. “But since you’re in Recovery, it’s intended to push you toward…well, recovery.”
“At least you don’t waste time coming up with fancy names for things,” I said as we stepped into the elevator and he used his pass before pushing one. “That sounded bitchy, but I mean it. What’s the point of using overly complicated words and vague phrases when there’s ways to say it without sounding like a pretentious dick?”
“Sometimes, to achieve nuance, we have to find new ways to express it. That might mean having to use a more roundabout way,” he said while the elevator hummed as it descended. “And yeah, sometimes people do it just to sound important. That’s the nature of the beast sometimes.”
“The beast? You mean humanity?”
“We are a complicated and sometimes frustrating creature; you won’t hear me say otherwise.”
“And yet here you are, trying to help, knowing we’re irritating and fickle.”
“Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
There were plenty of biting comments I could add, but I swallowed them, familiar with their bitter taste, and kept my mouth shut as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open revealing a decent-sized atrium, lit by simple fixtures that hung from the ceiling, casting a warm light in every direction, making the shadows soft. Half the walls were made of the same stone as the mountains, while the others were wood, or large sheets of glass that gave a breathtaking view onto the Rocky Mountain ridge as it accumulated snow.
There were a couple of large hallways leading in different directions and large doors. Brighter light spilled from one, and the smell of food drifted out, as did the sound of conversation. Another doorway led to a smaller hallway, and there was a sign that told me that was the medical center, which I had alreadybeen told I would have to visit in my first week for a basic check-up and some tests.
Other men appeared from one of the larger hallways, most looking sleepy, heading toward where the food was. It was still early, but the place was coming to life.
“And this,” Reggie said with a little flourish, clearly proud of the place, “is the best time to get a good look at the facilities and the people you’ll be spending a lot of your time around.”
“You don’t have to show off,” I told him dryly, because seriously, the place spoke for itself. I still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t an extra-fancy psychiatric facility doing an exceptional job of hiding the fact that it was just a prison, but points for effort.
“Hey, I never tire of showing it off,” he said with a chuckle. “Plus, the head of the facility had a personal hand in designing not only the function, but the form of Arete. I have to appreciate aesthetics where I can.”
