Eric follows his friends' advice. He takes the initiative, texting Jasper twice after being ignored the first time, including a specific location and time for a meeting.
Eric is trying to be professional and calm, swallowing his pride to secure a meeting. This shows his commitment to succeeding, despite his fear.
The air in the university coffee shop was thick with the scent of burnt sugar and impatience. Eric sat alone at a corner table, his posture growing stiffer with every passing minute. The laptop remained closed—a symbolic pause he had intended for professional discussion. He checked the clock: fifty-seven minutes late. His initial resolve, forged by Liam and Chloe's advice, was beginning to erode into a familiar, resentful dread.
Just as Eric decided to pack up, the door chime rang, and the whole cafe seemed to inhale. Jasper entered. He moved with the ease of someone who knew every eye was on him, his tailored dark jacket and cool, aloof demeanor radiating a magnetic confidence that was profoundly irritating. He offered no apologies, no acknowledgment of the time, simply crossing the room and sliding into the seat opposite Eric.
Jasper didn't even look at Eric first; he summoned a barista with a single, imperious gesture.
Eric forced a deep breath, fighting the surge of annoyance. He had to be the mature one. "Look, Jasper," Eric began, his voice low and carefully controlled, "I initiated this meeting because we need to clear the air before we start. We both know why Level 2 failed. It wasn't about lack of talent; it was a fundamental clash—you thought I was too slow, I thought you were reckless."
He leaned forward, trying to convey the gravity of the high-stakes project. "This is different. This is vital. I am asking, right now, that we agree to respect each other's perspective and listen, even when we disagree. If we can't do that, this drone project will be a spectacular failure too." Eric waited, the tension making his jaw ache.
appreciate your initiative, Eric," Jasper said, his voice smooth and utterly devoid of sincerity. He finally sat back in the chair, a gesture of finality. "Your concerns are noted, Eric. Just focus on meeting the deadlines this time, and we won't have a Level 2 repeat."
The phrase—"Your concerns are noted"—crushed the careful hope Eric had built. It wasn't an argument or a defense; it was a librarian dismissing a noise complaint. It completely ignored the core issue of mutual respect and, worse, implied the Level 2 catastrophe was Eric's fault for not keeping up.
Eric sat back, momentarily defeated. He had lowered his guard, offered a path to professional maturity, and Jasper had used it as an opportunity to assert dominance. The word tolerate echoed mockingly in his head.
Jasper pulled a sleek, high-end laptop from his bag and flipped it open, the meeting clearly over in his mind. "Good. Now that we have that out of the way," he continued, not waiting for Eric to speak. "I've decided we're starting with the NeuralFlow architecture for autonomy. You'll handle the data input modules and sensor integration—I've already sketched the framework. You have until Friday to get the API running."
Eric stared at the screen, at the unfamiliar, proprietary framework that Jasper had unilaterally chosen—a choice that reeked of the same reckless ambition that destroyed their last project. He was already under the gun, working on Jasper's terms, and the project had barely begun. The only thing Eric had gained from his act of professional outreach was the knowledge that Jasper saw him as nothing more than an easily managed, subordinate coder.
Eric felt the familiar heat of resentment rise, but he remembered his friends' faces. He took a slow breath, forcing himself to keep his voice calm and even, refusing to take the bait.
"I understand," Eric replied, pushing his chair back slightly, signaling he was not just accepting a subordinate role. "But this is a joint project, Jasper. We both need this success, and you can't make unilateral decisions on core architecture without my agreement. I am not satisfied with an untested framework like NeuralFlow for the primary flight system."
Eric met Jasper's gaze, the first real challenge of the meeting. "I will handle the data input modules as you suggested, but you need to go back and improve the stability and documentation of your framework. We both work on this together, and I'll deliver the code before Friday—but only if you deliver a usable, stable framework for me to integrate it with."
Eric's firm, technical pushback surprised Jasper, whose neutral expression finally cracked into a flicker of annoyance. Jasper leaned forward, the casual atmosphere gone, replaced by sudden, cold calculation.
"You're wasting time, Eric," Jasper warned, his voice now a low, sharp edge. "But fine. Do your part. Just be sure your code is flawless." He didn't promise to improve the framework, but he accepted the condition of the deadline.
Eric nodded once, a gesture of grudging acceptance. He had held the line. He knew the deadline would be impossibly tight now, and he knew Jasper would deliver a framework riddled with problems, but for the first time since the pairing was announced, Eric felt a small, fierce spark of professional defiance. He had bought himself time and set a boundary. Now, the real work began.