The rhythmic, steady motion of fingertips tapping keyboard keys sounds in the mostly-quiet space, the lithe agent in the chair fidgeting nervously as he tries to work through a wall of code on the computer screen. After smoothing a stray swath of sandy brown hair from his forehead, he idly reaches to push the bridge of his glasses slightly up his nose. He inhales deeply, holding the breath as he hears a groan behind him. He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.
“Ugh,” Medrina groans again for emphasis. When he doesn’t immediately respond, she hops off the table behind him so she can move closer, peering over his shoulder to stare at the screen. It’s a jumble to her, of course. “How much longer, guy?”
“I don’t know,” he says, voice barely sounding as he finally releases that held breath. “I’m–I’m working as fast as I can. I-I can’t control the system.”
“You should be better, then,” she retorts, then winces. “Sorry I just–I’m busy, you know?”
His expression tightens and he again does not look at her, though his tone is clearly annoyed. “Yeah. Same. Also busy. And it’s Kevin.”
“Poor baby,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.
“Can you, um,” he pauses, hesitating, clearly worried about his wording. “It’s just that the talking and sighing is really distracting.”
“I’m so sorry, Kevin! I’m here protecting you from dying and daring to talk, too,” she says, dramatically placing her hand over her heart. “I should shut my mouth. … You know, Kevin, I would much rather be at the event I already planned, Kevin. Not using this terrible portable setup to try to half-ass my own show from 3,000 miles away…”
On that note, she turns her focus to the laptop and mini deck sitting on her table, making a couple adjustments. She’s wearing one earbud in so she can monitor, despite being so far away from her actual show venue.
“I wish you were there, too,” he mumbles, then instinctively flinches even before Medrina flicks a random pencil at the back of his head, narrowly missing thanks to those quick reflexes. The pencil clatters onto his keyboard instead.
“Kevin!” Medrina brightens immediately. “You’re one of those guys with the chaos thing, huh?”
“I am,” he says, terse, and collects the pencil, setting it aside.
“And they still make you do all this computer shit?” She nods to the keyboard and makes very bad typing motions with her fingers.
“Yes,” he says, then quips quickly, “Because I’m smart.”
“And kind of a dick,” she adds. “I can see why they sent me here to keep you safe. I bet half the people you meet want to punch you at least once.”
“You’re not wrong,” he murmurs, his focus back on the screen now.
“There’s just some weird energy around you,” Medrina says with a smirk, “Big dick energy but not the good kind. The other kind.”
Kevin can’t help but smirk.
“Maybe it’s both–ahh!”
He does not avoid the thwack to the back of his head, though Medrina is clearly holding back. He’s fighting a laugh despite the mini assault, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of her.
“Keep it in your pants, creeper.”
“You know if you stop assaulting me I could get this done a lot faster and we could both go on our mer–”
“Shh!” Medrina says quickly, waving her hand at him, and Kevin silences immediately, glancing toward the door. That is not Medrina’s focus at all, though. Instead, she moves closer to her own laptop setup, tapping a button and adjusting the microphone position on the earbuds. Her voice shifts, tone immediately much friendlier.
*“What’s up, guys. This is DJ Drina, and you’re listening to Play Anything on Happy Tentacle Radio…”