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[devoutish]

Yeah?

[That's it, that's all you get.]

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Comments

[devoutish]

You do this very easily. You know that, yeah?

[headjacked]

I'd, uh. Like to think I see the best in people. After Jack, I mean. Lesson learned?

[devoutish]

I wouldn't say it has been, no.

[headjacked]

Wh- --why? You're nothing like him.

[devoutish]

"I'm sure you're in the right, you always are" never fucking ends well.

[headjacked]

I didn't mean you're always right about absolutely everything ever, given... you're a human, I just. I meant in this particular -- because of the sensible-ness --

[ Stumbling over just about everything, now. ]

[devoutish]

Mm.

I expect obedience from my people, but I also expect them to have their own minds. Make sure you have yours, Rhys.

[He means that in more way than one.]

[headjacked]

...yeah, Alfie.

[ "No, Alfie." And when Rhys fails to respond, he's angry. Angry enough for Rhys to feel a white-hot punch to the temple.

"We need to talk about Alfie, buddy boy." The hot and the cold together, it's unbearable. Rhys abruptly leaves the conversation. ]

[devoutish]

Rhys.

[When he doesn't get a response, he calls back immediately.]

Rhys.

[headjacked]

[ Alfie has to wait a good while, unfortunately. He's vaguely aware, during his argument with Jack, that Alfie is talking with Angel, so at least the gangster wasn't left completely hanging. Angel is a professional damage control agent. ]

Sorrysorrysorry. Headache.

[devoutish]

Really.

[Color him completely unsurprised, Rhys.]

[headjacked]

...

...it was a doozy?

[devoutish]

What did he say?

[headjacked]

Stuff about you. Mostly about you. But I know better th... to --

[ Obviously, Rhys is not headache free. ]

I think I need to sleep.

[devoutish]

What sort of stuff.

[headjacked]

The usual. That you're just like everyone else, and you'll ditch us in the end.

[ It isn't true, he knows, but Jack is preying on the fresh Fiona heartache. Rhys' voice is obviously trying for flippancy while the hurt bleeds through. ]

[devoutish]

[Well, to be fair... he is Alfie Solomons, backstabber extraordinaire. But then again, Rhys isn't a guy he's doing business with.

He grunts.]

Fucking predictable.

I talked with Angel a bit, about Hyperion. And it makes me wonder - what did you do there, exactly?

[headjacked]

I was, uh. In a middle management position. Not a big fish, not a little fish. Average fish with above average aspirations.

If... if the weird future-flash of my life I saw here is correct, I. I eventually become President and CEO.

[devoutish]

And what do you do as president and CEO?