I found myself alone in the main control room amidst a sea of monitors, enraptured by the endless buttons and switches. Having just come off of a long summer enduring nerve wracking interviews and drawn-out paper work, I had finally begun working my way through an internship at Gotham City News and was in the final stretch of a much delayed degree at the University of Gotham-only needing this internship to finish it off. Luckily, the internship was actually paid and typically meant I had a full-time job lined up almost as soon as I walked off of the commencement stage, diploma in hand. Everything seemed to be going my way.
That said, the majority of my time at CGN had actually been spent completing menial tasks or merely observing the camera operators, editors, and goings on behind the scenes. But, every once in a while I managed to find myself in my element amongst the crew in the control room. I didn't necessarily get free range, but I did get to tinker with the audio console and video switcher, with supervision of course.
Today, I had been told to be at the studio before almost everyone had arrived in order to go over controls without being in anyone's way. Unfortunately, "before everyone arrives" also meant I had to be in by 4 am. So, I arrived in the twilight, sleep deprived, eager to learn, and alone, with the exception of the Kathy, my instructor. Kathy, one to never trust an intern alone, had uncharacteristically excused herself for a personal phone call and I found myself happily tooling about the room, investigating everything without her constant micromanagement.
I pushed myself along the switchboards on a rolling chair and softly traced my fingers over the controls in admiration. The soundproofing in the room made it eerily silent as I blissfully maneuvered myself around.
I was fiddling with a knob when the door to the small room burst open. Startled, I spun around in my seat, an apology for screwing around when I shouldn't be already forming on my lips. Before I could fumble out two words, I stopped myself. A man stood in the doorway, one I could not recognize, but one who was not yet altogether unfamiliar. He had on a black baseball cap over unruly blonde hair and wore a black hooded sweatshirt and black jeans. I noted something was strange about his face, but he was across the room from me and the cap offered a concealing shadow. We stared at each other for what seemed like forever before I managed to squeak out a "hello." He tilted his head slightly while not breaking eye contact.
"Hi" he replied, slowly, unnecessarily dragging out the word. Something about his voice disquieted me immediately. It was somehow simultaneously high and low pitched, and distinctly nasally. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and broke eye contact to glance nervously behind him at the door.
Where the hell is Kathy?
I reluctantly looked back to the mysterious, looming stranger in the doorway and to my dismay, his eyes again locked immediately with mine. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.
"C-can I help you with something?" I croaked. My shaking voice exposed my unease and I scolded myself internally.
He said nothing in return but instead took several slow but deliberate steps in my direction. I remained glued to my seat, my back pressing firmly against the chair in an effort to distance myself in the subtlest way. I averted my gaze to the floor and my stomach churned in apprehension. I watched as his feet came to a stop mere inches in front of me. Somehow I managed to tilt my head up to see him tower over me predatorily. I felt small and meek, like his next meal. Now fully illuminated, my eyes scanned over his face and I instantly froze when I realized that what seemed odd about his face from a distance was now clear to me.
Scars.
Deep, ragged scars ravaged the otherwise smooth skin on either side of his mouth. Although they appeared to have been healed for years, their jaggedness was disturbing. My eyes only hesitated on them for a moment, but when I again met his stare, I knew he noticed. His eyes flickered from my gaze to my chest and back. I could feel my face burning, a side effect of my nervousness and a hint of embarrassment.
"You might wanna, uh, give this to your boss…Andy." He handed me a sealed envelope but I couldn't think much beyond the fact that this stranger had just uttered not just my name, but my nickname. I held the envelope tightly in my hands as he turned on his heels and stalked back towards the door. He was halfway out of the room when I found my voice.
"I'm sorry, do you work here?" I blurted, my words steeped with confusion and possibly irritation. He stopped and back peddled a few steps, half turning towards me from the doorway.
"No, girly. I'll see ya around."
And then he was gone.
I'll see ya around. His statement echoed in my mind. I tried to brush it off but he was so strange and unsettling that the though of "seeing him around" had me rethinking ever leaving my apartment again.
I waited for what I'm sure was a few minutes but what felt like hours before I finally stood and carefully approached the door. My heart was hammering wildly against my chest with each step I took closer to the door. I held my breath as I peered quickly into the hallway. The hall was dimly lit, but, luckily, empty. I sighed and leaned against the doorway. My legs shook uncontrollably. Never in my life had I met a stranger that had been so intimidating with such little effort.
My shuddering breath was the only noise to cut through the tension filled silence and I became acutely aware of my loneliness. Unsurprisingly, the notion of being alone in the control room no longer held the interest it once had.
I remembered the package he had handed me and I glanced down. I held in my sweaty hand a small yellow envelope and quickly noted the messy red ink scrawled across the front. It read "Are You The Real Batman?" Goosebumps erupted across the skin on my arms. I was done waiting for Kathy.
I tore out of the studio and down the hall like a bat out of hell. I shouted Kathy's name and headed left around a narrow corner before slamming into another body cloaked in shadow. I crashed to the ground clumsily and threw the envelope on the way down. I scurried to my knees in a panic and winced when I saw who it was.
Kathy glared at me from her position on the floor, straightening her glasses in a fury.
"Andrea, what the HELL is your problem?" She was seething with anger as she got on her knees and started to gather the papers that had chaotically rained down upon us moments earlier. I watched her grab the envelope.
"I am so, so sorry Kathy, honestly. I was just trying to find you because a man came into the control room when you were gone and h-"
"Wait, what? A man came into the control room?" She looked at me, incredulous. "No one is here, Andrea. It's just us for the next hour, at least." I could tell by the tone in her voice that she didn't believe me, and that irritated me instantly.
"Yeah, well, I don't know what to tell you then because a man came into the control room." I could hear myself, sounding so childish, and continued anyway. "He was tall and wearing all black and he had these scars..." I reached my hand up and touched my face face where the marks had been. Kathy stared at me like I had totally lost my mind. I dropped my hands to my sides. "Anyway, he gave me that envelope you're holding." I pointed at the package in question resolutely. "He told me to give it to my boss, so there you go," I huffed, making no effort to hide my annoyance, and turned away from her.
My attention instead turned to a small rectangular piece of plastic at my feet and I bent to peel it off of the dirty floor. I flipped it over in my sweaty palm and my own name stared back at me. Ha, my nametag. I assumed it had somehow ripped off during the collision. As I worked at pinning it back to my top, it finally dawned on me.
That's how he knew my name. I felt instant relief wash over me realizing he didn't actually know me at all and I chided myself for thinking anything more than that.
I turned my attention back towards Kathy in time to notice her raise her left eyebrow quizzically at me.
"He gave you this to give to me?" she asked, her words dripping in skepticism.
"Yes."
I could tell she still didn't believe that someone delivered it to me when I was alone for 10 minutes, but she also didn't hesitate in tearing it open. I don't think she even read what was written on it before she pulled out a small black jump drive from the envelope and twirled it around between her well manicured fingers.
"Well, lets see what's on it, then."