“What were you doing when it stopped working?” the technician asked.
“Uh… playing a game,” Angela said, lowering her eyes back to the counter. “But I’ve been playing it for a while now without any problems.”
“What game?” the technician asked.
She unplugged the computer and turned it over, reaching for a screwdriver.
“Akkraemyth,” Angela said.
“Nice,” the technician said. “I’m not really into the online stuff, myself, but some friends of mine are pretty active in that scene. You play with any of the local guilds?”
“No,” Angela said.
“You should look them up sometime,” the technician said. “They—Oh, that’s not good.”
“What?” Angela asked, looking up.
The technician turned back and Angela barely looked away in time.
“Your motherboard’s fried,” the technician said. “You’re going to need a new one. Maybe a new power supply, as well.”
“How long will that take to replace?” Angela asked.
“We close in half an hour,” the technician replied, “so the earliest I can have it ready for you is mid-afternoon tomorrow.”
“Afternoon?” Angela muttered. “Is… is there no way I could get it sooner? I need my computer for my job.”
The technician crossed her arms and drummed her fingers on her elbows.
“Well, I suppose I could squeeze you in tonight,” she said. “But only if you keep me company while I work on it.”
“I… I can do that,” Angela said.
“Great!” the technician said. “You can grab a seat over there.”
Angela glanced around and found a row of three chairs against the wall to her right. She sat in the middle one. The technician turned back to the computer.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
Angela stared down at her shoes and said, “A-Angela.”