There is a buzz through the intercom on Keith's desk, and despite the fact that he can hear his assistant through the walls, he sighs and presses the button. "What? I'm a little busy. With Luciano on vacation again, I'm once again doing the job of three fucking people so this better be important, Leanne."
I'm so sorry Mr. Alejos, but there is some one on the line about your brother's taxes?
"Oh for fucks sake, send it through." Keith knew he had told Luciano to get his own taxes done before he went on his trip with his sort of girlfriend (or was it a boyfriend now? He could never keep track), but of course once again Keith had to cover for his brother. He had to do what his older brother should have already done. The intercom clicked off, and the phone rang a moment after with the call put through, but when Keith picked up the phone, there was no one on the other line.
Frustrated at his time being wasted, he slammed the receiver back down and went back to the paperwork on his desk, which seemed to somehow double when he wasn't looking. That was odd, but not completely unexpected. They still hadn't hired a new Chief Financial Officer, so Keith was still doing that work, as well as his own job, and now that of Luciano's job as Chief Executive Officer. Why was it that Luciano felt he could go and travel whenever the fuck he wanted? Didn't he know that he had to work like the rest of them? Was Keith really the only responsible Alejos these days?
Sighing, Keith rubbed his eyes, sitting at his desk with eyes closed for a moment, and when he opened them up, there was another large pile of paper on his desk. At this rate, he'd never get all this paperwork done, but he had to try. The phone rang again, and Keith answered it to once again find no one else was on the other end. As he hung up the phone, he saw boxes piled at his office door.
Confused, he walked over to the boxes to find they were filled with more paperwork, and when he went to go yell at his assistant, she wasn't at her desk. Instead there was even more paperwork and boxes at her desk, more things to do. Keith picked up one of the boxes and turned to go back into his office to find it was completely covered, floor to ceiling with paperwork. But sitting in the middle of it was someone he never thought he'd see again.
His father, Raphael Alejos. The man who used to run Alejos International, but died suddenly, causing Keith to cut his USAF career short, and return home to Maui. "Dad?" He asked, setting down the box he was carrying on a large pile of paperwork. He couldn't even see his desk anymore, all he saw were boxes and piles of paper, his father sitting in the center of it.
What a disaster this company has become, Keith. I'm very disappointed in you, his father said, and it cut straight to Keith's core - he had wanted to make his father proud, he wanted to prove he could be what the company needed, but now he wasn't so sure. You let your brother run this company to the ground, you're not working hard enough, look at all you've done. Look at your office! You can't even stay on top of your paperwork. What type of executive are you?
"All of this just appeared! I work a hell of a lot harder than Luciano does, I carry this company! If I left, this company would fall to the ground!" Keith protested, growing angry, and his father laughed.
Your brother doesn't seem to think so. Luciano has been able to get a social life, while he leaves all the work for you. Because you won't leave. Your life is cleaning up his messes, Keith. You're not good for anything else. If there was something else Keith wanted to say to his deceased father, he didn't get the chance, as the man disappeared, and Keith was left alone with a large pile of paperwork.
But he couldn't let all this paperwork sit here. He had to do it. He had a duty to the company, he had to be the one doing his job, he had to keep the company afloat. This was all that mattered; the life of a workaholic was a lonely one but that was the path he had decided on. Someone had to decide the future of the family business. Someone had to decide the path the family went.
He started in on the paperwork, and every time he thought he was making a dent, more appeared. It kept happening, and two hours in, Keith was getting frustrated. This was when he got more visitors.
It was Luciano and some fling of the moment, at least one that Keith recognized, but they looked slightly older. There were children running around the office too, using the larger than life piles of paper as slides and playing in them as if they were a pile of leaves. "Stop that! You're ruining everything!" Keith screamed at the unknown children, and Luciano yelled at his brother.
Is that any way to treat your nieces and nephews? They will run this company one day! Luciano said and the woman with him stayed silent but looked proud of...her husband? Did they get married? When did that happen? Keith looked at his own hands but saw nothing, and Luciano laughed. Don't worry, you're married to the job. You always would be.
Keith narrowed his eyes and glared. "What the hell are you talking about? And these...children will not run the company, I am next in line."
Not anymore you're not, Luciano replied, grinning, The board met and we decided to vote you out. You're just a glorified accountant now, because child number ten, Luciano said, as he rested a hand on the woman's stomach, and she grinned, ...will be running this company. Not you.
"What? That's fucking bullshit! I demand to see the board!" Keith screamed and the nine children running around all went Oh, Uncle Keith said a bad word! Keith, angry, started for one of the children, but they all disappeared just as suddenly as they appeared, the only sound left was Luciano's laughing at his brother's misfortune.
The paperwork was more than before now, and there was very little room for Keith to move. He couldn't get out, he couldn't get away. He took a step back, walking into a rather large pile behind him, and it started an avalanche of files and boxes falling on top of him, the weight of everything crushing him so he couldn't breathe, he couldn't scream. Everything went black.
Suddenly, Keith found himself in a white room, with a solitary black coffin in the center of it. There were no doors in the room, there were no windows. Just four white walls, and a black coffin in the middle of it. Hesitant, he walked towards it, though he could only guess what was inside. As he got closer, there was a piece of white paper on top of the coffin.
Work was his life, and so work was his death.
He will not be missed.
He crunched up the paper in his hand, and pulled up the top of the coffin, and he saw himself as an old man, lying dead in the coffin. He looked like he had died having not lived a fulfilled life, there was no mark of a wedding ring, and from the look of it, no one was mourning him.
Keith leaned in closer to get a better look.
The dead older version of himself had the eyes snap open and he snapped his arms up towards Keith. The dead Keith's hands grasped tightly around the alive Keith's neck and started to squeeze tight. This is all your fault. Look what you did to me! No friends, no family, no love, no respect. I'm nothing, and now you will be nothing too!
It shouldn't be this hard to fight a dead version of yourself, but Keith struggled. He couldn't get the hands off his neck, and try as he did, it didn't matter. It was too little too late, and he was soon strangled to death.
He woke up gasping for air, his own hand moving to his neck to make sure nothing was squeezing around it, and once Keith realized that he was okay, he took long steady breaths in and out to make sure he was breathing. He sat in the dark of his bedroom for a little while before he turned on the light, relieved to find himself alone, with no paperwork, files, boxes, or dead relatives around him. There were no little versions of his brother running around and annoying him (Which was a blessing in and of itself for now).
Resting against the headboard, Keith continued to breathe in deep, filling his lungs with the air he had felt had been taken from him and once he was calm enough, he tried to wrap his mind around everything. He didn't have to look at a clock to know he had been sleeping for far too long, and that he didn't mean to be out that long. He could tell by how his body felt, by how exhausted his muscles felt. As if he had run a marathon, but he knew he hadn't, that he wasn't going to start training again for one for another few weeks.
He wasn't sure what the dream was supposed to mean, at least all the moving parts. But he understood that maybe he was working a bit too much. But he had to, he didn't have a choice, and he knew that. In a way, he knew he was quite possibly doomed to live out the nightmare he just had, but when everyone else he knew wouldn't step up to the plate, he had to take charge.
But, maybe a break once in a while wouldn't hurt. Of course he wouldn't let anyone know about that, because he was a man doomed to repeat mistakes.
The thing was, this dream was happening more and more lately, and he knew he had to do what he could to stop it, but old habits really died hard.
It was the Alejos way.