°•~•°
"So what promising qualifications do you think you have for this job?" The woman questioned before the sheepish young man, who was sitting across from her on the other side of the desk. The office was plain and the wooden chair he was sitting in was pretty uncomfortable, but he tried his best to remember his interview training. His professor would be rolling her eyes at the nervous habit of fidgeting his fingers. He chuckled softly yet strained at the question as she arched a thin eyebrow with a clipboard in her manicured hand.
"W-Well, I have a degree in business administration and a minor in economics from NYU Stern. I've also taken over 7 years of IT training and have a 122-wpm typing rate. I've done volunteer work and internships for-,"
"Yeah, yeah, that's fine and dandy, but this isn't your average pencil pushing job, kid. We are the backbone for Overwatch, whether anyone wants to admit it or not. We make sure this hell of a ship is running. Is this something you honestly think you can handle? Hours will be long, and work isn't easy, but," She stopped and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Not in a sign of annoyance, but of exhaustion. "I hate to admit this, but we're really understaffed. And your resume is impressive. I'm willing to give you a shot if you want to try this." She finished. Roy smiled wide, feeling his heart rate flutter at the crooked smile the older woman offered. He actually got this job?
"Y-Yes! I mean, yes. Yes, I would love to be a part of the Overwatch Administration Team." He answered, green eyes widened with childish and giddy excitement. The hiring manager smiled and offered an outstretched hand. He took it quickly and they both shook hands, sealing the agreement that hung in the air.
"Welcome aboard then, Roy."
°•~•°
"You got the job? Hun, that's amazing! Oh, your sister is gonna be so excited to hear about this when she gets home from school."
Roy chuckled at the praise, hearing his mother speak on the other line was refreshing, allowing him to not feel so alone. He was far away from home; all the way in the corner of Spain in fact. With the resurgence of Overwatch, the Gibraltar Watchpoint was back into running condition, meaning they needed to build up a crew again. Roy always looked up to Overwatch and the justice they stood for. His mother was skeptical of him joining, as the Swedish Base burning down was a bit concerning for her, but her son had his heart set on it. It was dangerous work, but if it meant for people like his sister and mother to have a larger chance of a better life, he was willing to take the risk.
"I know, Ma. The pay is really nice, and it comes with housing on the base and everything. It's really cool." He said as he sat in the common cafeteria area. Currently it was close to empty, except for a few stragglers coming in for coffee or a light lunch.
"I'm happy for you, Roy. You deserve this. I always knew how much you wanted to leave Staten." She said, her voice hinted with a sense of sadness.
Roy rubbed the back of his neck and sighed over the phone. Staten Island for him was nothing but a heated mess of drama and gloomy days.
"You always knew that place wasn't for me." He spoke carefully, running an anxious hand through his black hair. It was starting to get long, thankfully he always tended to slick it back as he did now.
He was a pizza delivery boy until he excelled in school and in the area of technology. With enough grants, scholarships, and savings he was able to go to NYU Stern. He finally felt his life was starting to gain traction. Sure, he was only 24, but he still felt like he should have been more successful in earlier years.
"You always say that, but you being shy doesn't mean it was never meant for you. You just needed time to get out of your shell, that's all." Her accent was always more prominent when she was lecturing, when as in him, it always came out more when he was angry. The thought made him chuckle.
"I know, I know. But listen, I gotta head back to work. I'll have to talk to you soon." Roy interjected, playing with the buttons of his black button up dress shirt. His mother made a huff.
"You're already starting work?" She asked, quizzically.
"Gonna start some studying on the Overwatch members and get my office set up. Need to know my clients in order to start correctly." He explained, taking a sip from his plastic coffee cup.
His mother sighed in understanding. "Alright, but don't overwork yourself. You're as pale as a ghost already. But keep in touch. And… I love you son." She spoke, making Roy knit his eyebrows together. The feeling of homesickness started to settle and make a home in the pit of his stomach.
"I love you too, Ma. Talk to you soon."
"Talk to you soon."
And with that, the line was silent, and Roy slowly lowered his phone down. He sighed, looking around. Nothing had shifted since he walked in. He stood up from his booth seat and began to make his way back to his office.
"Let's just hope I can be able to find it." He mumbled to himself.
°•~•°
He was lost.
He looked at the directory on his phone about three million times and still had no idea where he was. He looked at the holographic maps where he could, and he seemed to only get more lost.
Roy rubbed his bag ridden eyes angrily. He hadn't been able to find a soul in about five minutes. For how big the base was, you'd think there would be more people walking around. He snarled and snapped around deciding the best course of action would be to go back the way he started. Suddenly he felt something block his way and knock him back a few steps. He gave a surprised gasp and heard one in reply.
"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean-,"
"Ya sure got a strong walk there, shoot. Almost knocked me over." A southern drawl huffed, with a hearty laugh in his voice.
Roy looked up and saw a tall man hovering over him. He was confused. The man could only be described in one word to Roy… distracting. He had a plaid button up flannel, with faded blue jeans, and an obnoxiously large belt buckle with the gold letters of BAMF plastered on it. Whatever that meant. He also had longer brown hair and a large cowboy hat adorned on the top of his head. Roy held in a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Y-Yeah, sorry about that. Please, excuse me." Roy rushed, trying to walk away, but the cowboy seemed curious.
"Now just a second, partner. I know just about everyone on this here base and I don't reckon I've seen you here before." The man questioned, amber eyes squinting down at him.
Roy started to feel embarrassed. Was it that obvious he didn't fit in here? The subconscious fidgeting of his hands began, and he shrugged at the man.
"Yeah… Just started in the administration team today." The green-eyed man muttered, wanting to just leave and go back to his office. Though he was still wondering if he was gonna be able to find it and he wasn't very comfortable with the idea of having this man take him if he asked.
"Ah, so you're yer one of them academic types. We need more people like that around here," the man chuckled, making Roy give a strained one in reply. "But the name is Jesse McCree, and yours?" The man asked, offering a brown leather gloved hand. It took Roy until now to notice that one of his arms were metal and prosthetic. He tried not to stare.
"Roy Higgins. Nice to meet you." He replied automatically, shaking the man's hand.
The man smiled wide and crooked, tipping his hat at him in a farewell. "Well I will let you get back to it, Roy. Hope to be seeing you around."
"Thank you. Likewise." He replied, curtly. And with that the cowboy began walking away while whistling a tune that sounded very much like "Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'," from Oklahoma! Roy only knew that from his middle school holding that play in his 8th grade year. The tune made him smile softly and he too began to hum it himself as he walked down the empty hall.
°•~•°
After another ten minutes, he was finally able to find the small administration team office complex. He walked into the door and the receptionist offered a small smile. She was a bit older than him and her blonde hair was held in a tight bun.
"The Gibraltar Base sure is a beauty, huh?" She said, making Roy chuckle.
"You're telling me. It's like a maze, I got lost on the way here. And then I ran into some cowboy too. It was pretty funny, thinking about it now." Roy chuckled, feeling more comfortable being in the presence of people he was going to have to get more acquainted with in a smaller area.
The receptionist laughed softly and shook her head in understanding. "You ran into Jesse on the way here? He's harmless for how over the top he looks. But Marie Anne wanted me to let you know that your beginning files are in your office. Also, here's your keys for your office and your box of personal stuff is in there too. I'm Lydia. I'm the receptionist here and if you ever need anything, I'll pretty much always be here up front. But welcome to the team!" She explained, all with a trained smile on her face. Roy nodded slowly, taking in all the information she gave and smiled back in return.
"Okay, t-thank you." Roy stuttered back, offering a strained smile. Soon the lanky man adjusted his black thick rimmed glasses and walked towards his office. The office was moderately sized and there was a larger window in the far side of the room, with the sun rays inviting themselves through the thick white blinds. There was a large wooden desk taking up most of the room and the two boxes of his personal items sat atop of it.
He smiled and closed the door behind him, noticing he had a small golden name tag placed there. The sense of victory and realization was creeping up his spine. He walked over towards the box and began pulling out books, and stacks of graph paper.
As he continued unpacking, a vibration from his back pocket interrupted his quiet train of thought. He was confused and pulled out his phone. He looked at the contact name and sighed, pressing the green icon.
"Hello?" He questioned, holding the phone between his cheek and shoulder, hands occupied with going through a folder of past Overwatch articles.
"What? So am I not important enough for you to call? I had to find out from ya mother that you got the job." A shrill female voice snapped, making Roy wince. He didn't mean to forget to call Catherine, he was just distracted with being lost and running into a cowboy.
"It's nothing like that, Cat. I just-,"
"Don't be thinking you're above everyone else just because you got some fancy job in Spain. Don't forget where you came from." She continued, voice cruel and loud. Roy took a deep breath, trying to hold his tongue.
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry." He muttered, eyes straying away from the folder and on to the floor instead.
"I just worry about you, babe. You know that, right? It just hurts me to have to hear that kind of thing from someone else." Catherine sighed, voice starting to die down.
"I know. I'm sorry." He spoke, autopilot taking over once more. She seemed satisfied with his trained response, as she let out a short and breathless chuckle.
"I love you, Roy. I'm proud of you." She spoke, making the man smile sadly. She always had a thing of crashing him down and then softening the situation again with honeyed words. But still, hearing her say that made his insecurity die down a little. Even if the words didn't have the affect they used to. Though she was stable and grounded. And Roy liked stability.
"I love you too. I do have to go though. Have to sort my office out and start some papers on budgeting-,"
"Ugh, fine! Bye."
And with that she hung up, leaving Roy confused and left with silence. He sighed and shook his head, placing his phone in his back pocket. He continued to sort out his office in silence.
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