Chapter Text
Kevin held a cardboard box carefully as the shiny elevator descended. He looked inside and noticed it was emptier than he would have expected, given how much time he spent at that desk, working a job he hated.
He hated the job, but he hated getting fired more. Now he had no plan, nothing to do to fill the time, nothing to do to pay for the apartment, no way to take care of Sophia.
The longer he thought about it the more he realized that his job had been truly miserable. Investment banking was soul crushingingly awful. He hated his coworkers; he hated the constant talk about money; he hated doing unethical things and that made him hate himself.
It was odd: on the job he craved fitting in to that culture- the feeling of power. No, actually, no one would let him feel in control with all the power games they played. The feeling of acceptance? No, actually, no one at work really accepted *him*. He didn't let them see the real him. Nobody did. Lyrics of The Stranger by Billy Joel floated into his head without him meaning them too. Damn New Yorkers and their Billy Joel. Maybe it was the feeling of worth. The idea made his chest rise, resonating his heart so loudly he knew it was true, and it made his stomach drop because of the implications of this self-truth. Everyone he knew liked him for his money, not for his self. In New York, in his second life since he left Texas, his snarky banker-bro persona was his only self-worth. He sure as hell hadn't kept up with his family, the little there was left.
Kevin tried on a line of reasoning about good people doing bad things, about peer pressure, about following orders.
"A thin argument" sneered his old English teacher's voice from high school in his head.
He sighed because he knew she was right in her condemnation.
Disgust overwhelmed Kevin as he longed for a week ago when he could have ignorantly enjoyed what his entire life had become. Now he realized his whole life at that time was hot garbage- that HE was hot garbage. His practical finance guy side spoke up, sensing a problem and instinctually searching for a solution, a fix.
He first felt the answer more than he thought it in words. It flowed to him naturally. If something was an externality, if it was costing other people, eliminate it. It was simple, considerate, math: if he was hurt and wasn't a benefit to others, there was nothing wrong with killing himself. Right now he was in the red, running a deficit, removing more happiness than he was adding to the world. The more he thought about it, the more imbalanced his life seemed to be, his profit-seeking getting more and more exploitative.
He had thought this before. He hadn't killed himself because he didn't want to hurt those he loved and who loved him. This time was different. He was fired. He felt worse, more sure that suicide was the route to take. Yet, some part of him seized upon the change as a chance.
Rid of the job, one way or another, he had a chance to start fresh and change his ways. He had people who could support him like Amy and Sophia. He could get a new job, he could be a better and happier person.
He realized he was at the front door of his apartment building already. The door man nodded at him and Kevin couldn't help but wonder if he could tell. If he could tell from the look on his face and the box in his arms that he was unemployed and a failure. Kevin chased that last part away, reminding himself in a cocky voice "not a failure, remember? New Kevin. Fresh Kevin." He was still embarrassed and knew Old Kevin, Old Kevin Who Was Still Inside New Kevin, looked down on doormen. New Kevin said thank you and smiled, and took heart at the slightly surprised smile he received back.