...
Octavio had been excited for the new legend as per usual, although his excitement was recently being drowned out every time a new one walked in and he was shrugged away. When Mara came, it was no different. She didn't care to meet him, just wanted to bicker around with her friends and for some reason loved Che and her music. Ugh. No, he wasn't just jealous, he just thought that her music was mediocre. At best.
It'd been awhile now since him and Ajay had gotten along. It felt like ages almost since they'd talked like friends. He still couldn't believe it. But he was still mad at her, she never cared, never cared to see from his perspective. At least she'd been acknowledged by her parents. He'd been swept under the rug since the day he was born, or at least as far back as he can remember.
But every now and then, he had a memory, maybe forged, maybe made up. His father with him, a set of brand new toys. His father saying "I love you" saying he's "sorry" and he kissed him. It must have been made up, he had no reason to think, just cause he dad was dead, he cared about him before he died. Not that he didn't want to hope a little bit.
But it didn't matter anyways, he was long gone and Torres had been his "father" all along. At least Ajay's mom wanted her back home, at least she wanted her to be part of the business. His grandfather wanted simply nothing to do with him.
This was way too much thinking for Octane's brain. He was starting to get a headache just thinking about it. And he had a job to do. Well, no he didn't, he really just wanted to get out of this meeting which he was paying no attention to in the first place.
Blah blah blah, new legend, blah blah blah, next few weeks, blah blah blah blah blah. It all went through one ear and out the other. He was leaning back in his chair, hyperfixated on the light dangling above him on the ceiling.
"And that's all for today, ladies and gentlemen-" that's all Octavio had to hear before he hopped out of his seat. The only thing he was excited for was the welcoming party, he always was. So much drinking and no one was there to stop him, at least not anymore.
And he'd need to be drinking, going back to Olympus, going back home. He hated going home, hated it, being so close to his abuelo. His grandfather who had beat him, neglected him, he found himself spiraling down the same train of thought as just moments before.
Maybe he'd even convince them to have a party before, to celebrate the end of the season. He always loved when they did that. More time to forget, forget, forget, and have the time of his life of course.
He found himself crashing into his room again. Tired was something Octavio never was. Probably the drugs. Or the anxiety. Or both. Oh well, he grabbed his fifth energy drink of the day, which was low for him. He didn't even remember the last time he drank water. He turned the TV on. It was too bad the training area was closed today for "improvement" otherwise he'd call Elliott and Walter to blow shit up with him again.
But for now, he was stuck watching some competitive sports stuff he barely understood. All he knew was that sweaty men were punching each other. He switched the channel until he unfortunately landed on the news. He would usually skipped past, he was never interested. But he stopped when he saw his last name plastered across the screen. He paused, listening, waiting.
"Eduardo Silva leading the syndicate..." he'd heard this crap a million times and yet he was entranced in guilt all the same every time. "A strange liquid found in Silva's private office in a recent investigation under analysis." Octavio knew what it was, that special anti-aging juice or whatever. Not that anyone would care, plus, there was no more evidence that Eduardo Silva ever died, he'd burned that shit. But maybe if he was able to get into his private office...
No, it was impossible, unthinkable, he'd be dead before he stepped foot into that building. But it'd be so satisfying to be able to prove to the world that Torres Silva was impersonating his son.
His mind drifted to Ajay. This could maybe... mend their relationship... at least a little bit. He could ask. He could try. She'd say no. But it was the least he could do. He might even be able to get her the corps back, but he doubted it. And he doubted she would have any faith in his in the first place. She would watch him fall flat on his face like he did so many times before.
But he had to try, didn't he?
...
Octavio wasn't nervous to talk to Ajay, he never was, so why would he be now? She'd turn him down sure but at least she'd know how he was gonna get himself killed this time.
So here he was, standing beside her door, playing with his butterfly knife in boredom. He had sent her a text but quickly learned that he had been blocked from her contacts. He really didn't think he was that annoying, he hadn't even tried to text her in forever anyways.
So now he had knocked on her door. He hadn't gotten a response but he was waiting for awhile. He waited about 3 minutes, got bored and now he was knocking again. "Chica! I just wanna talk!" He was frustrated now, smacking both hands against the metallic door.
He stumbled forward from leaning on the door as it was pulled back and open. Ajay was there, her hair tied back in a mess of a bun and her eyes still with bags under them. It reminded him of the time he'd woken her up at 4 AM for Navi's eulogy. His awesome eulogy, for the awesome way he died. In a rocket crash of course.
Ajay had her arms crossed over her white tank top which she had definitely been sleeping in not minutes ago. "What do you want, Silva?" She nearly growled.
"I have the greatest idea ever, Che!"
"Oh really, and you came ta tell me about it?" She raised an eyebrow. "I told ya I'm not part of these games anymore, Octavio." She moved to close her door once again.
"Wait, chica!" He moved to stop the door from closing.
She was silent. But she stood there, eyes on him, ready to listen, ready to hear what he had to say. For the first time in a long time. "The news, the head, they said they found that stuff mi abuelos been using. Said their 'analyzing' it or something."
"Where's this goin, Silva?" She sighed.
"I can prove my abuelos not who he says he is." Octavio explained. "Just like you wanted, Che."
"Still won't get me the corps back. Still won't take back what ya did with that certificate."
"But we could! Think about it, chica! Torres gets turned in, you get the corps back, we can forget we ever had that fall off!" Octavio was pleading, pleading for her to understand, to listen, to just trust him this once. He could do it, he could and he knew it.
Ajay huffed and rubbed her eyes. She looked down, looking at her feet in thought. He waited anxiously before she looked back up at him. "Can't believe im doin this." She mumbled. "I'll help ya, Silva, but that don't mean I'm all good with ya now." She warned. "I'll do the plannin, I don't want you ta screw it up."
"This is gonna be awesome, chica!" He held up his hand for a high five but it went ignored as Ajay closed the door in his face.
He did it, he fucking did it, he convinced her, she was going to help him, he was going to make up a mistake for once in his life. This time he wouldn't let her down, he couldn't. He was about to prove he was not just a stupid, reckless hotshot who couldn't do anything real with his life. Well maybe he was a little bit, but it was part of his charm, his personality. All he knew, he could make it up to the chica now.
His phone let out a notification jingle. He pulled it out of his pocket and opened his texts. And there she was, a text from Ajay herself. "Ya grandpas out of office on Sundays."
Octavio grinned and knew this was about to be so not boring at all.
...
