Spun Out of Control

Chapter 3: The Ceiling Awakening

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Gavin muttered to the ceiling fan spinning three inches from his nose. "This is highkey an L. Why am I literally gravity-defying right now? Is the simulation glitched?"

He blinked, staring down at his bedroom floor. His bed was directly below him, a messy pile of sheets looking incredibly far away. His pajama top and pants were stuck flat against the white plaster ceiling, holding his entire body weight without a single sign of letting go.

"Jax! Yo, Jax, pick up!" Gavin yelled, desperately nose-tapping the speakerphone icon on his cell, which he had managed to wedge between his chin and collarbone. "I am literally cooked, bro! On god!"

"Gavin? Bro, why are you screaming? It is literally seven in the morning," Jax’s sleepy voice crackled through the phone.

"I am currently sticking to my ceiling like a discount Peter Parker! I can't get down, fr fr!"

"Bruh, you are capping so hard right now. Send a pic or it didn't happen."

"I can't take a selfie! My hands are keeping me from plummeting to my death! I’m glued! The pajama pants are literally fused to the drywall!"

"Just peel yourself off, man. Use your core strength. Show some of that gym-bro grindset."

"My core strength is non-existent, Jax! I am an IT guy! My muscles are made of instant ramen and pure panic!"

Gavin tensed his abdominal muscles, trying to arch his back away from the ceiling.

Riiiiip.

"Wait, did something just tear?" Gavin gasped, his eyes widening.

"Sounds like your dignity, bro. See you at the office. Don't be late, Rose was literally tracking our login times yesterday."

"Jax, wait! Don't hang up! I—"

RIIIIIP.

With a sudden, catastrophic tearing sound, the flannel fabric of his pajama shirt gave way. Gavin dropped like a stone, belly-flopping directly into his pile of laundry with a muffled scream. He scrambled up, checking his phone screen.

"Great. He hung up. And I have exactly fifteen minutes to get across town," Gavin groaned, throwing on his only clean pair of slim-fit gray office trousers and a white button-down. "I am speedrunning this commute. No cap."

Ten minutes later, Gavin was sprinting down the bustling downtown sidewalk, his chest heaving as he dodged late-paying commuters.

"Out of the way, please!" Gavin yelled, vaulting over a stray skateboard. "I am trying not to get executed by my boss today!"

Ahead of him, a loud, mechanical screech cut through the morning traffic. A delivery driver had wiped out on an electric scooter, and the heavy vehicle’s throttle had jammed. It was rocket-launching straight toward an elderly woman carrying a bag of groceries.

"Watch out, grandma!" Gavin shouted. "She’s not looking! Oh, this is a major canon event!"

Without thinking, Gavin lunged. He didn't just jump; he launched himself through the air, his newly mutated leg muscles propelling him in a massive, physics-defying leap. He crashed down between the elderly woman and the runaway vehicle, his hands outstretched.

"Gotcha, you mechanical menace!" Gavin grunted.

His sticky palms clamped onto the metal handlebars of the scooter. His feet planted hard into the concrete. The sheer momentum of the heavy machine threatened to drag him, but Gavin flexed his biceps. With a surge of raw, superhuman strength, he lifted the entire back wheel of the heavy scooter off the ground, freezing it mid-air.

The elderly woman gasped, clutching her grocery bag. "Oh my word! Young man, you stopped it!"

"Just doing my civic duty, ma'am! Rizzing up the neighborhood, you know how it is," Gavin grinned, attempting to strike a heroic pose.

But as he stood up straight, a loud, violent shreeeeeeed echoed between his legs.

The slim-fit gray trousers, unable to handle the extreme stress of his superhero leap, had split completely open from the back pocket all the way down to his mid-thigh.

"Oh, no. Please, god, no," Gavin whispered, his heroic grin instantly freezing into a mask of pure horror.

"Is everything alright, dear?" the lady asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah, totally. Just... a sudden draft," Gavin squeaked, instinctively clapping his hands over his rear end. "A very cold, very public draft. Have a blessed day, ma'am!"

Gavin bolted down the street, keeping his knees locked together in an awkward, penguins-like shuffle to prevent the rip from widening.

Ten minutes later, Gavin slid through the sliding glass doors of the corporate headquarters, his face flushed and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He grabbed a thick, heavy manila folder from the reception desk, desperately holding it behind his back like a shield.

"Ten minutes late, Gavin," a smooth, chillingly beautiful voice echoed through the lobby.

Gavin froze. He slowly turned his head.

Rose Lee was standing by the high-speed elevators, looking absolutely immaculate. She wore a sharp, navy-blue pencil skirt and a crisp white silk blouse, her dark hair pinned back in a way that screamed absolute perfection. She was looking down at her tablet, but her dark eyes flicked up to meet his, sparkling with immediate suspicion.

"Miss Lee! Rose! Good morning! You look... stunning, fr," Gavin stammered, his heart doing a stupid, violent flutter despite the massive tear in his pants. "The fit is immaculate today. Absolutely serving."

Rose arched a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow, stepping closer to him. "Flattery is not going to save your timesheet, Gavin. Why are you shuffling along the marble wall like a crab?"

Indeed, Gavin had backed himself entirely against the lobby's polished marble wall, his spine pressed flat against the stone.

"A posture exercise!" Gavin blurted out, sweating profusely. "Yeah! It’s called 'wall-sliding'. It’s majorly popular in Silicon Valley right now. Promotes lateral alignment. On god, my lower back has never felt more aligned."

"And the manila folder?" Rose asked, pointing to the document he was desperately clutching against his lower back. "Are you planning on reading it with your spine?"

"This? It's... confidential data," Gavin lied, flashing a strained, high-rizz smile. "Highly sensitive. Can't let the corporate espionage opps catch a glimpse of our server specs. I’m protecting the assets, boss."

Rose stepped directly into his personal space, her intoxicating vanilla-and-amber perfume instantly short-circuiting Gavin’s brain. Up close, her gaze was dizzying.

"Gavin, you are acting incredibly sus today," Rose murmured, her lips twitching with a hint of amusement. "Step away from the wall. I have a new assignment for you."

"I can't, Rose," Gavin whispered, his voice cracking. "The wall and I... we have a deep, spiritual connection right now. We are locked in."

"Step. Away. From. The. Wall. Now," Rose commanded, her voice dropping to that authoritative pitch that always made his knees go weak.

"I literally cannot, Boss," Gavin whimpered, sliding three inches to the left, keeping his back firmly glued to the marble. "It's... it's a medical thing. My back. It needs the cold support."

Rose sighed, letting out a soft, melodious laugh that made his chest ache with affection. "You are truly a ridiculous man, Gavin. But since you claim to have so much 'energy' today, you're actually the perfect candidate for this."

She reached out, tapping a glossy, dark-blue invitation card against his chest.

"What's this?" Gavin asked, looking down at the card. "A VIP ticket to your heart?"

Rose’s cheeks flushed a very faint, beautiful shade of pink, though she quickly recovered her icy exterior. "In your dreams, Gavin. It’s the invitation to the company’s high-profile charity gala tonight."

"Wait, really?" Gavin blinked. "You're inviting me as your date? No cap?"

"Absolutely not," Rose countered, her lips curving into a devastating, playful smirk. "Our mascot actor just canceled due to food poisoning. Since you love attention so much, I have volunteered you to dress up in the giant, fuzzy blue bear costume tonight."

Gavin’s jaw dropped. "A... a mascot suit? A furry suit? Rose, please, that is not a vibe!"

"It’s a very prestigious vibe," Rose said softly, leaning in close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath. "And you will be wearing it. Unless, of course, you'd rather explain to facilities why the executive restroom door handle is currently sitting in your desk drawer?"

Gavin swallowed hard, his face burning. "Understood, Boss. I will be the most majestic blue bear this city has ever seen. Fr fr."