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"The money is decent, and I make my own hours, so there's that," Diego informed the young couple as the three carried boxes of canned soda to a table. "But my team supervisor is a real dickhead, he's always riding the stick," Diego complained.
"Yeah, that seems tough," Five pretended to care. "Mostly importantly, it's just a waste on my god-giving talents," Diego stated, setting down the sodas. "Which is?" Tate asked with her genuine curiosity peaked when Diego said that.
"So when do you think I'll be hearing back from the agents," Diego asked as Five grabbed the beer bottle he left on the table. "Um..." Tate trailed off, pulling a soda from the box. "Sorry?" Five repeated, turning to face Diego.
"The CIA, bro," Diego reminded. "You gave them my resume, right?" Diego asked his sister. "I did, I did. But HR takes time to process these things, it's... they're really thorough in making sure they hired the right person," Tate blabbed on, trying to cover the fact Diego would never make it in the CIA.
"Trust Tate, she knows them well, with a bigger office and a better title, what does she not know about the CIA?" Five said with a bitter tone, causing Tate to glare at him. "Yeah, that's heading up the ladder as we speak," Five fibbed after Tate's glare burned into his skin. "That's what I'm talking about!" Diego cheered, patting them on the back.
