Of Gnomes, Orcs & App Design

“Can’t you convince him to give us a bit more time? We’re really not that far behind schedule,”

I stopped just short of entering our second studio’s small kitchen, on my way to nab a cookie or three for my morning coffee. I wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop but the exhaustion in Mr Miller’s voice was evident and hard to ignore.

“Listen, there’s really nothing I can do.” Replied a familiar voice.

A few weeks ago Catalyst Inc. sent one of their product managers over to keep an eye on the progress of the app. A middle-aged man by the name of William. He wasn’t here every day, but when he was, he gave off such strict librarian vibes that it made me remember the copy of Twilight that I was too embarrassed to be seen returning back in middle school.

Everyone tried to keep out of his way. No one wanted to be the one to accidently push the stick even deeper up his ass and mess things up for Mr Miller. Even Nikita kept his mouth shut.

“They have that exhibition coming up in three months and all the basic features need to be implemented by then,”

William continued, sounding like he marinated his voice in lemon juice for the past hour.

“I see,” Mr Miller said.

“I’m sure your team can pull it off. They seem dedicated. Loyal, even. Maybe you can convince them to put in a few extra hours, huh?”

Something about the way he said the word ‘loyal’ grated on my nerves.

“Alright, I better be going. Call my office if you have anything new to report. Mia can put you through.”

I quickly took a few steps away from the still closed door and pretended to be walking in from around the corner. William didn’t even acknowledge my presence on his way out, making me feel stupid for my internal panicking.

“Hi boss, everything ok?” I asked as I entered the room.

He gave me a knowing look.

“You’re not very good at eavesdropping, Jen.”

“Sorry.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

My hurried footsteps to and from the door must’ve given me away. Wasn’t the brightest of moves, in retrospect.

“Is this only me or is he kind of a…” I trailed off.

Mr Miller was quick to complete the sentence.

“A dick? Yeah. You know he shares ‘his office’ with three other people, and ‘Mia’ is his cousin. She doesn’t even like him.”

I laughed. “Can’t imagine why.”

“If you came for the cookies, by the way - you’re too late.”

He gestured to the empty cookie jar on the counter. He wasn’t the sort of person to ask favors from anyone, so of course he was trying to change the topic.

“You know -”

The sound of his phone ringing cut me off, and relief flashed behind his eyes. He fished it out of his pocket.

“I gotta take this,”

Xxx

I made sure to get a cup of coffee along with my croissant on my break, and placed it on Mr Miller’s desk when I walked through the doors.

“Suckup,” Andrei called from behind me.

He was wearing one of those sleeveless tops that gym rats were so fond of.

“It’s called being thoughtful, actually. Not that you’d know the meaning of the word,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed strictly on a spot on his forehead.

I was going for an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ approach, but I couldn’t block his muscles out entirely.

It was rude, really. I’ve taken vocal-coaching lessons for the past five years but I never broke out into song in the middle of the office!

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s called sucking up.” Andrei said after pretending to think about it for a while.

“Didn’t you bring him muffins like two weeks ago?”

“Those were for everyone! My grandma made too much,”

An image of Andrei helping an elderly lady transfer batter into floral cupcake liners popped into my brain - and I wished it came with an off switch. Nikita’s brain came with one, why couldn’t mine?

I sat down and moved my mouse a bit to get my monitor to turn back on. There were still several screens that I didn't get the chance to work on since I was stuck re-making old ones.

The studio was silent for the next few hours. Mr Miller thanked me for the coffee when he came back from his call, but he looked even more exhausted than before. Looking around at my co-workers, it was evident that I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

It’s not that our boss was a loud man - quite the opposite really - but he had an infectious cheerful attitude that when absent made you feel like something was off. Like a sunny day turning unexpectedly overcast.

“Joe?” Nikita asked.

He was the only one who called him by his first name. If I remember correctly, he knew him before he started working for him. Pinevale was a small town, after all.

“Yeah?” Mr Miller asked absentmindedly .

He was tapping his fingers on his desk in a nervous rhythm and his eyes kept glancing back at his phone.

“Did Margaret approve a design and change her mind again?”

“What?” The older man asked in confusion. Then the question seemed to register.

“No, no. I explained to her last time that any major changes to the website after it’s already been developed would cost her extra. She stopped asking after that,”

Nikita exchanged a concerned look with Jessica, who was taking a rare break from scrolling on her phone. With her head facing straight instead of down for once, I noticed for the first time that her skin was covered with freckles.

“What’s wrong then?” She asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. Why would anything be wrong?”

“You’re not very good at lying.” I said, echoing our previous conversation.

He gave me a betrayed look.

“You would’ve had to bring it up sooner or later, right?”

He could pull all nighters for the next few months to finish the design himself; he was responsible for all UI UX tasks before he hired me - but programming?

“Well, that’s,” He fumbled over his words. “Still not your place to bring it up,”

I instantly felt horrible. We were such a small team that sometimes it was hard to see him as my boss. He didn’t act that way most of the time too, so I instinctively treated him the same way I treated my father when he was being obstinate.

“Sorry, you’re right,” I said, my face feeling hot.

Unexpectedly, it was Andrew who came to my rescue.

“If it’s about that William guy putting more pressure on the project, I know Nikita and I are fine with working late for a bit,”

“Yeah, really, don’t sweat it. You gave me two months' advance when I had to pay for my mom’s surgery last year. It’s the least I can do.” Nikita insisted.

“Well, there’s more.”

Mr Miller looked uncomfortably between all of us.

“They want him to come oversee the project on a daily basis.“

When he saw the collective look of horror on everyone’s faces, he added jokingly -

“It’s probably because they’re sick of him too,”

Xxx

Having William around the studio for the following week made me feel like I was navigating a minefield blindfolded.I never knew what would set him off. None of us did.

He loomed over us like a black hole, sucking out joy and leaving behind astonishingly vivid fantasies of his wrinkly little face going through a woodchipper.

He had a problem with everything we did, how we did it, when we did it, why we did it - the man was addicted to the sound of his own voice. I could easily imagine him standing in front of his mirror every morning saying things like ‘Your genius makes Einstein look like an amateur.’ and ‘You should run for president of the universe’.

In a strange way though - our mutual, all consuming hatred for the man brought the whole team together. Jessica and I were texting outside work hours, Andrei approved all of my designs without a single comment - and on one memorable occasion - Nikita even laughed at a non-offensive joke I told.

It didn’t make up for the pent-up rage that was growing within all of us, but luckily for me, my D&D character just learned to cast ‘fireball’.

xxx

Having taken on numerous quests before, the party was used to having to pry their hard-earned cash out of ungrateful hands. Some folk had no appreciation for their line of work.

As soon as the giant spiders in their basements were dealt with, all of a sudden they were in no real hurry to pay. Normally Nelle was the one to put them in their place.

This time, however - it was Sassa.

Gavak watched in awe as the little witch blew an entire barn out of existence with a flick of her fingers; her braided, red hair whipping in all directions from the force of the explosion. Her eyes were narrowed into slits.

The farmer who hired them - some man called ‘William’, looked horrified.

From the moment they’d met, Gavak felt unexplainable hatred towards him. Sassa did too, strangely. The rest of the party did not. In fact Daisy looked just as horrified as William.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll pay now!” The farmer begged.

He searched around in his pockets, and when his hands came out empty and caught the look in the gnome’s eyes, he all but flew inside his little hut.

“Was that really necessary?” Daisy asked, waving her hands around to get rid of the smoke.

“Yeah, he was only asking to wait until tomorrow when he sells his crops at the market,” Added Nelle.

Sassa didn’t turn to face her. “He had it coming,” she muttered, eyes still locked on the hut as if daring William to emerge without the gold they were owed.

Gavak made his way to the burned barn, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat. As he stepped over the crumbling remnants of wooden supports and barrels of hay - he spotted an unfortunate cow.

Lunch, he decided.

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, then rummaged in his pack for some salt and pepper. He never understood the hub hub around sorcerers and wizards before - but magic that can simultaneously kill and cook a prey?

“You have to teach me this barbeque spell sometime,”

Sassa looked momentarily confused, but then remembered who had asked the question. She turned her nose to the still-smoldering skies above and crossed her arms.

“Unfortunately, not just anyone can manipulate the weave. You'd have to read books that don’t have pictures, for a start.”

Gavak hummed in understanding. He indeed did not enjoy reading books with no pictures.

Already she knew him so well.