29- Impatience and surprise

September 13, 2016.

Same world: World II.

I feel a bit nervous. I arrived early to the production company today, and I tried to get as much work done as possible. Honestly, I felt a bit strange when I woke up this morning and saw that, indeed, Dakota didn't come back home. Did she change her first work appointment to a house call?

I'll have to stay extra hours here. Not because I want to, but because it's my duty due to my unplanned absence yesterday. I found out that Dakota was the one who notified the human resources manager that I was out of the system. She really knows how to handle the situation.

"Did you see the national trends, Eron?" Trevor interrupts my study without knocking, without asking, without anything. "We're number three in the whole United States! They should free me from work for this week."

"Oh, Trevor, I also had that crazy dream of having weeks off. Don't worry. You'll recover."

The guy scoffs and throws himself onto the biggest sofa in my space in this study. He even keeps his shoes on! I don't care that he's nineteen years old. He's acting like a younger child. How dare he?

"There was a campaign for the presidential elections today. I don't remember which of the two old men they were promoting. But they're the only ones surpassing me in trends. Aren't I the greatest?"

I think he tells himself that every morning.

"If you want to maintain that success, you have to work hard."

"Hey, Eron," he speaks as if he's with his best friend. "Don't you know how to rest?"

"You work three times a week, Trevor. You haven't even gone on tour," I mutter. He's stressing me out.

"Naaaah, Eron. You're different today. I can tell," he says, and, as if we were part of a cliché movie about troublemaking kids, he pops a bubblegum bubble. "Maybe you need sex. That's the best therapy."

"Therapy is what you need to stop being intrusive," I murmur.

"What? I couldn't hear you."

"Nothing important."

Dakota also hasn't responded to my messages since early in the morning. I don't even know if she's really okay. Faven tells me that she got in touch with him. Isn't that a bit unfair? I'm her husband.

I have to meet with another artist now. This one is the opposite of Trevor; he doesn't like to communicate much. I don't know if he likes what I do or not. Getting more than a monosyllable out of him is a miracle. Have mercy on me!

The good thing is that Chad agreed to communicate with me tonight, for the convenience of our work schedules. It will be a video call. He asked me to have the questions I wanted to ask him written down in advance to save time. And yes, I agree with that too.

"So, Milton, do you agree with this option, or do you prefer the previous one?"

Milton shrugs and gives a thumbs-up. I don't understand. Which one does he prefer in the end?

"Be clearer, please. One or two?"

He raises two fingers with a double intention. As a sign of peace, and to indicate the option he chooses. Dammit, I don't have much patience for this today.

When I get home in the evening, I finally see Dakota, but she's sleeping. I wanted to talk to her before contacting Professor Chad, but it will have to wait. It slips through my fingers.

I make myself some buttered toast for dinner and message the professor to let him know I'm ready. I barely have time to finish the second slice of toast when I receive a video call request.

I raise my phone in front of me and see my own image on the small screen in the corner, where Mr. Chad appears with a stereotypical physicist look: dressed in a white lab coat. Although I could swear it's used more in chemistry. I don't know. To each their own.

He doesn't greet me. He goes straight to the point.

"Alright. I'm listening, Montjoy. What do you want to know about alternate worlds?"

"I have to admit that I'm somewhat skeptical about the subject, but I want to find out before dismissing anything," I take a deep breath. "I've passed out for up to four consecutive days, and there are no signs of deficiencies in my body. Every time I have medical exams, the results come out fine. So, nothing makes sense."

"Uh-huh, and what do alternate worlds have to do with this?"

I gather the patience I don't have to not say anything offensive. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, and this guy is too fast-paced.

"I have flashbacks of moments that I apparently never lived. I even had some with Rod Hart."

"Ah, yes. The independent candidate."

"Of course, it sounds stupid because he's a public figure. But I had those visions while I was awake, and there he was a psychologist in an orphanage, doing questionable things. Minutes later, there's a broadcast where they interview him. Before that interview, I hadn't heard anything about that guy."

"Coincidence is the turning point in all this. Even in the theory of alternate worlds, coincidences don't exist. Do you agree?"

"I suppose…" I mutter. I feel like I'm wasting my time.

"Maybe it's necessary for you to know something about your other self. Or maybe you're at a crucial point in your life. Normally, there are many alternate realities, but the closest connection is with your second world."

"I see…"

What is all this nonsense?

"Or who knows. Maybe that world you go to while fading away here is your true reality."

A lot of nonsense…

"Ah, yes. I see."

"Look, Eron. I know that as Liry and Faven, you have your prejudices about the matter, but I invite you to lay all the cards on the table and try to see what makes sense in your life context," he says, and it's the most serious moment he has in the whole conversation. "Before, according to Faven, you didn't faint this often. That was because, based on the studies and deductions I've made on the subject, there was no rupture or transfer between those two worlds. Someone, I don't know if from that side or this one, is trying to cross over to the other reality."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you'll have to figure out how to control those reality shifts and, at some point, stay in one of the two realities," he concludes.

Although all of this seems strange to me, I decide to give the man the benefit of the doubt. He studied for a long time to make up whatever comes to his mind.

I thank him for his time and willingness. Then, I go to bed to think in a comfortable and quiet space.

However, a letter sticking out from under my pillow disrupts my plans.