Event Horizon Part One

Part One

Thought it was my due time to experiment with AI art

Without a second thought, Milo confidently strode into the building. He wasn’t exactly nervous–quite the opposite actually. He knew this article was going to be an easy one to write, but at least he’d still get a paycheck out of the deal. When he’d graduated with a Bachelor’s in journalism a few years back, he knew it would take some time before he could start publishing the dramatic, expansive reads he actually wanted to pen. And the road there would be a long one, covered in minor articles detailing the smaller, less significant things in the world around him.

Like today’s piece. Milo had been tasked with interviewing a few of the employees at First Star Wealth Management. The major financial firm had just been bought out by Vivek Ramamurthy, an obscenely rich magnate from the Country of Nine Names. The Indian man had crossed hemispheres to start purchasing American firms for his own endeavors, each one almost completely transitioning afterwards. New staff, new directives, new architecture. In one sweep the CEO revamped every location.

Milo strolled into the lobby, strangely devoid of any life. He was writing an opinion piece for the City Post, hoping to just outline some of the perspectives at First Star on what they thought of the transition. He had interviews lined up, but he was truly surprised that there wasn’t even anyone by the front door. Milo assumed everyone was just already at work.

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice from down the hall called. “Shouldn’t you be at your desk by now?”

Milo stopped in his tracks, a little embarrassed although he knew he shouldn’t be. The man in front of him was tall, handsome, and utterly masculine. With a large tanned musculature stretched out across six feet and six inches, Milo was surprised he hadn’t noticed this man earlier. And that blue suit made his best features pop out even more.

“Ogling me now son?” The Indian executive huffed.

“Oh! No, sorry sir,” Milo’s posture shifted. “I don’t work for you, nor do I swing that way.”

“I see.” He then stepped forward, taking his own gander at Milo placed before him. Milo was an attractive young man. He was a little on the skinny side, but he had some developing muscles from his time at the gym. He knew how to style his hair and his beard, and as an added bonus was both clean and wore cologne. He was half a foot shorter than the Indian man, but he had a 50/50 German/Scandinavian mix that gave him the best of both blond worlds.

“If you don’t work for me, then what are you doing here?” the man asked.

“I’m Milo Rammonds from the City Post,” Milo stated, regaining his confidence. “I’m just here to interview a few employees about the management transition. I had called Human Resources last week to get approval and arrange the details.”

The Indian executive appeared displeased with his answer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, is there a problem with my presence here?” Milo searched the other man’s face for an answer, but either he didn’t have one or was really good at hiding it. Eventually, he did reply in the same deep, commanding tone.

“No, I suppose there is not,” the man stretched his shoulders, arching his powerful deltoids back. “My employees may just be a little bit busier than usual today. My new software system is uploading onto their devices.”

The use of a particular pronoun alerted Milo to whom he was speaking with. “You wouldn’t happen to be Mr. Ramamurthy, would you?”

The Indian CEO chuckled, “You’re fast, kid.”

“Not as fast as you, handpicking firms one after another. This is what, number eight?”

“And you do your research too.” For the first time, the man held an expression that was not related to annoyance. “You’re correct, and I plan on adding one more by the end of the month.”

Milo grabbed his notebook and pencil and cheekily asked, “Mind dropping a name for the record.”

Mr. Ramamurthy snorted. “Do you not have other people to interview?”

“In fact, I do.” Milo checked the time on his watch and assumed the CEO was giving him the go ahead. He then offered his hand to shake. “It was to meet you, Mr. Ramamurthy.”

The Indian man simply nodded and let Milo off the hook. He watched as the young male politely, yet speedily advanced to an elevator before going about his own business.

— —

Milo peeped his head into an office “Hi there, I’m looking for Sean Mendoza.”

“Well you are looking in the right place!” The man stood up from his desk. “Sean Mendoza, at your service.”

Milo stepped in and extended his hand towards the Latino man. “Lucky me.”

Sean was a little shorter than Milo but with a larger build. Milo could tell he used to be more muscular, but the extended time in the office had started having its effect on the man. He was still handsome, but now in a fuller, pudgier fashion. An ex-girlfriend of his once remarked this type of body was for a man who was ready for settling down; the kind of attractive that called for a long-term commitment.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” Sean remarked, leading Milo out of the office space. “How many other interviews do you have lined up for today?”

“Four in total,” Milo stated. “I’m trying to cover as much ground as possible. I have a member of the executive team lined up after this, and then two advisors after lunch.”

“Good deal.” Sean led the pair to a lounge area, filled with nice furniture, a snack bar, and an area filled with different types of games.

“This looks great!” Milo couldn’t help but admire the casual, friendly nature of it all. “No wonder First Star employees love working here.”

“Yeah, not for much longer,” Sean rolled his eyes. He took a seat and Milo quickly followed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, being a part of Employee and Client Resources, I was one of the first to find out what the new CEO has in store for us.” Milo grabbed his notebook and pen from his bag before noticing Sean had removed a shoe.

“Oh, hope you don’t mind,” Sean explained. “I don’t know why, but ever since I logged in this morning, all of my clothes have just been feeling so tight and restrictive.”

Milo shrugged, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Cool,” Sean smiled. “Then let’s begin.”

“So you said the CEO has some new guidelines he’s planning to lay out…”

“Yeah,” Sean nodded. “It’s almost like a forced adoption of his own policies. Think assimilation rather than integration.”

“Could you explain that a bit more?”

“Sure,” Sean removed his suit jacket. “Typically, when a financial firm is brought under new management through a purchase, the new leads like to have a mix of the old with a mix of the new.”

“And you’re saying Mr. Ramamurthy is not doing such?”

“Precisely,” Sean agreed. “He is trying to wipe the slate clean and have us start fresh with his agenda.”

“Could you give me some examples?”

Sean pondered on that, lounging a little further back in the chair. He spread his legs out while doing so, allowing Milo to notice that both feet were encased in clean white sneakers. Milo could’ve sworn he remembered Sean removing a shoe, but he didn’t see any visible proof of this.

“Consider this lounge area as an example.” Sean loosened his tie. “This used to be an employee space for bonding or letting off some steam. We all work hard, and studies show spaces like this help boost morale.”

“Is the new CEO planning on removing this space?”

“He’s planning on redeveloping it for different purposes.” Sean ran a hand through his hair, his black follicles fluffing out and standing a little higher after doing so. “Apparently, my department is going to be dedicated to serving other employee and client needs.”

Milo scribbled down some notes, the shadow of his pen shifting across the page as the lighting in the room reoriented itself.

“Mr. Ramamurthy believes that spaces like this don’t properly employ my coworkers and my own expertise.”

“And what does he believe would ‘properly employ’ it?” After a moment of silence, Milo glanced up from his notepad. Sean’s upper body was on full display. A beautifully brown torso sculpted through careful maintenance. Rippling abs, milk chocolatey pecs. His arms showcased prominent muscles and his furry black pits were ripe with the effervescence of curry. Although Milo was straight, he could feel a familiar sensation stirring his pouch.

“Men like me are meant to serve our clients’ needs,” Sean replied in an accented voice. “Whether they are internal or external, my department is responsible to fulfill every desire to bring in larger numbers and retain current members.”

Milo heard a soft ripping as Sean’s blue pants tore at the bottom. The ends curled up as they blanched, losing their color and adjusting to the man’s larger, longer legs. Finally, a darker caramel hue crawled across the newly exposed skin with little black hairs sprouting in its wake.

“So what does the CEO plan to do with spaces like this?”

“He’s already done it,” the Indian male replied back. Milo peered around the room, taking in all the features. Beige walls and wooden-framed windows fostered an old-fashioned, warm energy in the room. Yoga stations were placed around the space, and other good-looking, half-naked Indian men were at various stations in the room, ready to offer their services.

“Do you like Mr. Ramamurthy’s management style, Sendhil?”

“I adore it,” the Indian male propped an arm up to scratch his thick stubble, his jaw squaring out a little further while doing so. “It reminds me of home and everything the United States should be.”

Milo assessed the time and took a stand, noting he should be moving on to his next interview. “Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Molri. If I think of anything else, I’ll be sure to shoot you a message.”

Sendhil stood up, readjusting his package. “I’m here to satisfy any of your needs, yaar.”

Milo smiled politely and made his way towards the exit, engaged in trying not to look uncomfortable. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but something felt wrong about this situation. He wasn’t planning on making a big deal out of this article–he wasn’t a tabloid writer after all–but that interview had felt strange. But Milo then reassessed the time and realized he had to hurry his pace a bit. Without a second thought, he reentered the elevator and was on his way up.