Page 5 of Under Construction

"Won't work." Chris doesn't look up from whatever he's scrolling through. "Unless you want the electrical team electrocuted."

"Excuse me?"

"Wiring has to go in first." Now Chris does look up, all professional concern that doesn't match his smirk. "Basic construction sequence. But you knew that, right? Being the architect and all?"

Snickers ripple through the room. The electrical foreman actually nods.

"The permits—" Dennis starts.

"Are already filed." Chris pulls up documents on the main screen, timestamps proving he's three steps ahead. Again. "Had to adjust some of your specs though. The original load calculations were a bit... theoretical."

The way he says 'theoretical' makes it sound like 'amateur'.

"Real-world variables?" The inspector raises an eyebrow.

"Wind resistance, material expansion, maintenance access." Chris rattles off terms that shouldn't be in a site manager's vocabulary. "The academic approach is sound, but someone has to translate theory into structure."

Chris takes a long, noisy slurp of his sugary concoction, dragging out the sound as he drains the last drop. His eyes stay locked on Dennis’s, glinting with barely-concealed amusement. Heahhs, extra loud and exaggerated when he’s finished, then lifts the empty cup over his head, aims, and tosses it like a basketball.

It sails through with a clean arc, landing with a rattle of ice into the trash can tucked in the corner of the room behind Dennis’s desk.

His shot draws a few low whistles from the crew and a slow clap from the inspector.

“Three points!” Chris announces, fists pumping the air in a mock victory. He turns to face Dennis. Beams a bit too brightly. “Shall we see it in real life?”

Chris walks them through every modification, every improvement, changes Dennis hasn’t even approved yet. Each change is perfect. Each improvement makes the design better.

Each explanation makes Dennis feel more like an amateur playing with building blocks.

"Impressive stress distribution," the inspector says, examining the bamboo supports. He looks at Chris. "Your idea?"

"Oh no," Chris's voice carries across the site. "Mr. Kim here had the basic concept. I just made it actually work."

Dennis's knuckles turn white around his tablet. The 'Mr. Kim' sounds like another dig—reminding everyone whose son he is and how he got here.

"The sustainability features—" Dennis insists.

"Were a bit theoretical initially," Chris cuts in smoothly. "But we managed to translate them into practical applications. Always interesting seeing how academic designs adapt to real-world conditions."

The inspector chuckles. Chris shares a knowing look with him.

"Graduate school," Chris stage-whispers, like he's sharing a joke. "You know how it is."

More laughter. The crew's not even pretending to work now, just watching Chris systematically dismantle Dennis's authority while at the same time proving why the project's succeeding.

Dennis’s fists clench and unclench on his own. Hold it together. Breathe. Stay professional, goddammit. "The environmental impact reports—" Dennis tries again.

"Are exceeding projections," Chris finishes. "Once we adjusted the original calculations to account for actual construction requirements rather than theoretical models."

He pulls up graphs on his tablet. Shows how his modifications improved every metric.

The inspector peers at the data. Whistles low. “Nowthat’san adaptation!"

"Mr. Kim's original concept was... ambitious." Chris actually pats Dennis's shoulder, the gesture somehow both respectful and condescending. It takes Dennis’s all not to jerk his shoulder under the burn of Chris’s touch. "We just had to make it buildable."

The worst thing—that Dennis hates to admit is the best thing—is that idiot Chris is notwrong. The project's ahead of schedule, under budget, and performing better than Dennis had dared hope.

All because this douchebag keeps finding ways to make Dennis's vision work better while making Dennis himself look worse.

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