[ WP ] You have the ability to reverse time by 5 seconds , this allows you to always say and do the right things , until the day you meet the one person immune to the time distortion .

Henri clinked the champagne glass with a fellow businessman and laughed. It was a photographic laugh: one made to please but not be exuberant. He shook hands and made small talk. Henri worked the dainty party with a lazy ease. What a joke. The guests were here to weasel their way into his graces. Each tight-suited man had the'next big proposal.' Each elegant-dressed woman had her'sights on marriage.' But these parties were a requirement. If Henri passed on them, he would lose face in the fragile world he'd built. 
 
 
 `` Hey there old buddy!'' A swankish man, one of those types with the well-swooshed hair and just a hint of wrinkles that made him look like a dependable, trust-worthy father figure, walked over and swung his arm around Henri ’ s shoulder. 
 
 
 Henri did not remember this man. Not at all. 
 
 
 “ Pardon? ” Henri asked, with an inquiring smile. 
 
 
 “ It ’ s me! How could you forget? Ol ’ Ben Howard! I worked with you two years ago on the Projects in Baltimore! ” 
 
 
 Henri grinned. He blinked. Ben was gone. Back to the other side of the room with the marble floor, where he ’ d been just a few seconds before -- 
 
 
 “ Hey there old buddy! ” Ben walked over and swung his arm around Henri ’ s shoulder. 
 
 
 “ Hello Ben! ” Henri shared a quick, brusque handshake, “ How have you been since Baltimore? ” 
 
 
 “ Ahh, I ’ ve been great. Just married my new wife and things have been absolutely fantastic. I must say, I don ’ t know how you manage to memorize the names of all these people, ” Ben took a long sip of his wine, “ You ’ ve really come up in the world. Weren ’ t you just an office temp getting coffee for these guys when you started? ” 
 
 
 Henri laughed again. That wonderful, canned laugh, “ That was six years ago, Ben. I ’ ve had time to prove myself. ” 
 
 
 “ And prove yourself you have! This is your party after all! Promoted to the Board of Directors. How ’ d you manage that? I thought the old man Johnson would never retire, but suddenly he just leaves us a note, goes to the Bahamas, and here you are. C ’ mon, what ’ s your secret old buddy, old pal? ” Ben jabbed his elbow lightly into Henri ’ s side, casting a slick grin and wink. It was intended to be friendly, but Henri saw the hunger and suspicion in those white-collar eyes. 
 
 
 “ It ’ s quite simple, really, ” Henri brushed a piece of lint from his hand, “ I can rewind time a few seconds to fix my mistakes. When Johnson refused to give up his position, I kept asking him loaded questions and rewinding until he slipped up. Never would have guessed that he was cheating on his wife, it took a long time to get him to spill. Suppose I should move the ‘ How ’ s your home life? ’ question higher up my list. ” 
 
 
 “ What in the hell ’ er you talkin ’ abou -- ” 
 
 
 Henri blinked. 
 
 
 “ It ’ s quite simple, really, ” Henri brushed the piece of lint from his hand again, “ Hard work and devotion. I promoted through the ranks just as any other working man, or woman mind you, could. ” 
 
 
 “ Really now, ” Ben gave him a disbelieving smile, and a clap on the back, “ Alright young man. If you don ’ t want to tell me so be it. Enjoy your liquor, boy. You ’ ve earned it. ” 
 
 
 Ben walked off to flirt with a few of the business ladies who would happily listen to Ben ’ s drivel if offered a few free drinks. Henri leaned back against a polished wooden table and sighed. It was a nice penthouse suite the company had rented out for his party. Good view of the city ’ s nightlights. Nice chandeliers. All the big-shot names in one room. Henri was happy for his ability. If there was an assassination attempt, he could rewind in time to dash out of the way. 
 
 
 He was not sure when it first manifested. Henri just remembered once, in elementary school, a girl called him stupid. Being small and foolish, he ’ d fancied a crush on his classmate Natalie. Henri mustered the courage to tell her, and she ’ d spat in his face. He felt so dumb, so embarrassed, so worthless, that he shut his eyes tightly and wished he could undo it all. And then. He did. Natalie was standing in front of him again, hands on her hips, asking why he ’ d called her out there. In a rush Henri ran off, leaving Natalie in confusion. 
 
 
 Over the years he ’ d discovered how to fully use the power. A few seconds of time-travel wasn ’ t much. Truthfully, Henri would get incredibly frustrated when he ’ d try to rewind, only to find out the event he wanted to undo was right on the cusp outside his limit. In high school he sat down and performed tests. 
 
 
 With a stopwatch he discovered the maximum amount of time he could rewind was around five seconds. Five seconds and thirty-two milliseconds, thereabouts. He would remember the events during this time while no one else would. Then he thought: what can I do with this power? Sure he could use the rewind to fix tiny mistakes. Undo things like tripping on the stairs, being caught snoozing by a teacher, forgetting a word, calling someone the wrong name. But Henri sought more. 
 
 
 He tried turning in a test, and then quickly looking at the previous student ’ s test sheet. He ’ d rewind time, and correct any mistakes. When he got more confident, he would blatantly stand up, grab someone else ’ s test, memorize the answers, and then rewind. Or just pull out his phone, Google the answer, then rewind. Though the phone was tricky, sometimes he couldn ’ t get the internet to run fast enough. He started practicing at home with a timer. By now, Henri knew the feeling of five and thirty-two milliseconds passing better than any human on Earth. 
 
 
 High school tests were the beginning. He started to wonder: what about passwords? Money? You could ask questions of people and make them forget you ever asked them. So long as they trusted Henri, and they answered in five seconds, he could get what he wanted. He bumped into strangers and tried for their wallet. Failed. Rewind. Tried again. Probed people for their personal passwords. Failed. Rewind. Tried again. He joined sports just to test out his reflexes on time-manipulation. Soccer was the perfect place to hone his skills, and to align his body to adjust to the “ rebound ” of returning to a position it was in five seconds earlier. 
 
 
 Now here he was. Older. Smarter. Manipulator and millionaire. Henri looked out the gold-lined window and smirked. Had anyone lazier been given this ability, they just wouldn ’ t have used it as well as he had. 
 
 
 “ Excuse me, sir, ” a woman ’ s voice floated over, as her heels approached, “ I was wondering if you have over ten million in your bank account. ” 
 
 
 Henri glanced over. She was average looking, unassuming, her dress blended in with the rest. But her expression held a devious grin, one he recognized. 
 
 
 “ That ’ s a bit blunt of you, miss, ” Henri shrugged, “ But indeed, I do. ” 
 
 
 “ Brilliant! ” She laughed, her polite, faked laugh. And then she blinked. 
 
 
 Time flew backwards. She approached again. 
 
 
 “ Excuse me, sir- ” 
 
 
 “ Yes I do have over ten million, ” Henri responded, curtly, with a glare. 
 
 
 Her mouth was wide. They stared at each other in shock. 
 
 
 “ You can..? ” 
 
 
 “ Yes, I can. ” 
 
 
 “ Five seconds? ” 
 
 
 “ And thirty-two milliseconds, ” Henri grasped her wrist with a frightening power, “ Look casual. Close your mouth. Pretend we ’ re flirting. ” 
 
 
 She put on a coy mask, and slipped closer to him, voice dropping to a whisper, “ You know, Mister Henri, this would look more casual if you stopped holding my arm like you wanted to break it in half. ” 
 
 
 Henri released his grip, scowling. He hadn ’ t felt embarrassment in years. He hated this stranger with a growing passion. 
 
 
 “ What ’ s your name? ” Henri hissed into her ear. His expression was no longer cheerful. 
 
 
 “ You ’ ll find out soon enough, ” she giggled and pat his suit, as though denying his advances, “ We ’ ll probably see plenty of each other in the upcoming days. ” 
 
 
 “ I ’ d rather we left and never spoke of this again, ” Henri grumbled. 
 
 
 “ I want in, Mister On-the-Board-of-Directors. All your money. Your secrets. Your skills. I can ruin you. And you can ruin me. Why don ’ t we work together, hm? I can make a wonderful life partner. ” 
 
 
 “ Did you just threaten me to marry you? ” Henri laughed. For once, a laugh of his own dark heart. It felt... freeing. 
 
 
 “ If that's how you want to interpret it. I always thought of marriage as a business transaction anyway. ” 

