"Ugh, my head is killing me…"
Arin trudged alongside his father toward the site gates, squinting at the morning light of the new star, like it was out to ruin his life. He clutched his temple, nursing the aftermath of the beers he'd downed the night before. Regret in liquid form. The air smelled like concrete dust, burnt diesel, and tired men. He hated it. Especially this early.
Rajiv, on the other hand, looked like he had just come back from a refreshing jog.
"Why are you even awake right now?" Arin grumbled, side-eyeing his dad like he had committed a crime against humanity. "Seriously, how are you this fresh?"
Rajiv chuckled, hands in his pockets, walking with the ease of a man used to mornings. "Old habits, boy. Woke up with the sun my whole life. After a while, the body just stops asking permission."
"Yeah, yeah…" Arin grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Fuck, I feel like a squirrel got loose in my skull."
As they neared the entrance, Arin noticed a familiar figure standing just outside the crowd of workers.
"Wait... is that Eli?" he asked, squinting.
Rajiv smiled. "Eli! Hey!"
The old man turned and waved, eyes lighting up when he saw them.
"Morning, fellas," Eli greeted as they approached, his voice raspy but warm.
The workers were scattered around the makeshift canteen nearby, drinking that horrible excuse of a coffee and munching on greasy, stale buns. Everyone knew it tasted like boiled socks, but no one complained—it was caffeine, and it was free.
"You got any idea why the baldy called us in this early?" Rajiv asked, tilting his head toward the site office.
Eli shook his head. "Nah. Just got the message same as everyone. No details."
"Thought maybe a new job or something," Arin said, looking around the yard. "There's a bunch of new faces around."
"Yeah," Eli muttered, glancing around. "Some real tough-looking ones too…"
Before Arin could comment, someone slammed into his back from behind, hard enough to make him stumble forward. He would've hit the dirt if Rajiv hadn't grabbed him by the arm.
Towering over him was a mountain of a man. Blond buzzcut, thick neck, chest like a brick wall stuffed into a stretched-out T-shirt. A Russian flag tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve.
"Sorry, маленький человек (little man)," the Russian rumbled, smirking. "Didn't see you there."
Arin's jaw clenched. "Didn't see me, or just wanted to walk through me, you giant dickhead?"
The Russian raised an eyebrow, amused. "You wanna try something, tiny?"
"Yeah, I wanna try shoving my foot so far up your ass you'll taste shoelace."
Rajiv stepped between them fast. "Arin. Cool it."
Rajiv leaned close and muttered, "Let it go."
But Arin was already annoyed.
"You always walk around like a forklift with no brakes, or just when you see someone smaller than you?"
The big guy chuckled, slow and mean. "You wanna fight, little guy?"
Before Arin could throw something back, a voice barked across the site.
"ALRIGHT, FRONT AND CENTER—MOVE IT!"
Carter's voice rang out, scratchy and sharp through the megaphone. The big guy gave Arin one last look.
"Tch. Got lucky, punk," he said, shoving past. "Try not to get stepped on."
Arin clenched his fists, but said nothing. Not here. Not yet.
Rajiv exhaled. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Arin muttered, brushing off his shirt. "He's just... a lot. Seriously, what he eats for that protein, people?"
They joined the crowd of workers gathering around Carter, who stood at the front like a strict school principal.
"So. Now that everyone decided to show up on time," Carter said, dragging his gaze across the crowd—and landing squarely on Arin for a moment too long.
Arin rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, yeah. Take a number, Carter.'
Carter cleared his throat. "There's been a change. We won't be continuing with this site. Project's shut down. We're out."
Murmurs exploded immediately. Confusion, panic, frustration—some guys were already shouting.
"Wait, what?!"
"What do you mean we're out?"
"We haven't even been paid!"
"What about my rent?"
"My kid's, man!"
"Carter, you better explain real quick—!"
Rajiv reached out and held Eli steady as the old man started trembling.
Arin stepped forward. "Carter, what the hell is going on?"
Carter raised a hand. "Everyone. SHUT THE FUCK UP."
The crowd fell quiet.
"Before you all go swan-diving off rooftops for insurance money—not that I'd stop you—here's the full story." He took a breath, annoyed just to be speaking. "This site's being pulled because we've been reassigned. Immediate transfer. New government contract. High-priority."
More whispers. Suspicion.
"Sector 51," Carter continued. "Six-month project. Short on workers, they asked for help. That's us."
Someone shouted, "What's the pay?"
"Triple your current rate," Carter said.
That shut everyone up. Arin could practically hear the mental math happening across the crowd.
Triple.
That was... life-changing.
"There's a catch, of course," Carter said, smirking. "Sector 51 ain't next door. It's in another state. Remote as hell. You'll be living on-site."
Groans. Shuffling feet.
"What about our families?"
"You can bring 'em. You just gotta list them beforehand. Names, ages, everything. No surprises."
Arin and Rajiv exchanged a look.
Carter pointed toward the site office.
"When you sign up, you're locked in. That means you cannot sneak out halfway because you miss your momma's cooking. If you leave, you lose it all. Families can come only if you put their names down today. You've got until lunch to decide, or you're off the roster. Got it?"
He dropped the clipboard on a crate, turned, and stomped off."
And just like that, he walked away.
An hour later
Arin sat at a table in the shade with his dad. The coffee in his hand had gone cold, but honestly, it tasted better that way.
"Sector 51," Rajiv muttered. "That's way too far"
"Triple pay, though," Arin said. "That's a lot of zeros."
Rajiv nodded slowly. "We just got that apartment, Arin. Six months ago."
"Yeah. And we've been scraping by ever since. This job could fix everything. Maybe even get ahead for once."
Rajiv looked down at his cup, swirling the bitter liquid.
"Yeah, but six months, Arin. That's six months of living god-knows-where, working eighteen-hour shifts, eating shit food, and pissing in portable toilets."
"Sounds like this site already," Arin snorted.
"It's not always about the money," he said quietly.
Arin leaned forward. "No. But right now? It kind of is."
Rajiv sighed. "You're not wrong."
Arin stood up and headed to the bathroom. "I'll call Maya."
Rajiv sighed, long and slow. "I'm too old for this shit."
The only place with a reception was near the toilet blocks or Cater's office. Arin chose the better option.
It smelled like mold, rot, and something that had definitely died, but Arin didn't care. He needed to make the call.
He held his breath, tapped the screen, and waited.
Two rings. Then—
"Hey, babe."
Arin smiled. "Hey, love."
"I was just leaving. Something up?"
"Yeah, uh… we might have to move."
"Move?" Her voice changed instantly. "What's going on?"
He explained everything. The project. The shutdown. The transfer. The location. The money.
Maya stayed quiet, listening carefully.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked.
"I am. I wouldn't say yes otherwise." He sighed
A beat.
Maya sighed on the other end. "Will they let me come with?"
"If we put your name down now, yeah."
Another pause.
"Alright. Let's do it," she said softly. "I'll start packing."
Arin smiled, relief flooding him. "God, I love you."
"Yeah, yeah. You better. Go kick ass."
Back at the office
Carter looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"You two going?" he asked without even looking up.
"Yeah," Arin said.
Carter scrawled their names across a form, slapped it on the table, and shoved a pen toward them.
"Sign."
They did.
"When do we leave?" Rajiv asked.
"Two days," Carter muttered, still not looking up. "Now get out."
As they stepped outside, Arin nearly groaned.
The big blond guy was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, chatting with a few others.
"Well, well," the man grinned when he saw Arin. "Looks like the little guy's coming with us."
His friends laughed.
Arin said nothing. He just stared for a second, then walked past them.
"See you on the road, маленький боец (little fighter)," the Russian called.
Arin gave him a lazy middle finger and kept walking.
Rajiv was waiting by the gate.
"No work today," Arin said as he approached, voice low.
Rajiv gave him a look. "You alright?"
Arin nodded. "Yeah… I'm just thinking."
They stood there in silence for a moment.
Finally, Arin looked up. "We have tomorrow free, right?"
Rajiv nodded slowly. "Yeah. For your mom."
"…Good." Then Arin said, almost to himself, "Guess we'll have tomorrow for Mom."
Rajiv's face shifted, softening. A quiet sadness came over him.
"It's the anniversary after all."