《A romance novel on how to: Deal with Unexpected Encounters》 Chapter 1 - Lets begin "Get the fuck off of me!" I push against his chest, but he''s immovable. I smell the alcohol on his breath, and my stomach churns, both with fear and nausea. His height always gave me a sense of safety; now, it fills me with dread. It lurks in my stomach, fighting its way out and clawing up. My fists pounded on his chest, trying to make him move. One hand grips both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. "Don''t worry, my dove," he says maliciously. "I''ll take very good care of you." Like hell, he would. I push and thrash until I''m all sweaty. I can feel his other hand swiping over my cheek, wiping the tears away. Just when I''m sure I''ll pass out from exhaustion and frustration, there''s an alarm blazing right beside my ear. I wake up sweating and gasping for breath. With a grunt, I silence the alarm on my phone. 6:30 AM. "Ugh¡­" I groan and rub my eyes, wiping away the tears and fighting the chill of the still-lingering nightmare. That was way too real. It''s been 2 years since my ex, Brian. Two whole years, but he still haunts my nightmares. Not as often as he used to, but on occasion, and whenever I''m stressed, it gets worse. 6:31 AM. Right. I should get out of bed. With crackling fingers, wrists, and shoulders, I get out of bed and walk to the other bedroom in the house. Softly, I knock on the door. "Sam? You up?" Nothing. I knock again. "Sam. You better give me a sign you''re awake, or I''ll burst into your room." "¡­hmm. I''m up¡­" My sister''s voice comes through the door, and I smile. If there''s one thing she hates, it''s when I come into her room. The trick always works. "Breakfast at 7:30!" I said. Without waiting for an answer, I walk over to the bathroom, wash my face, and change into workout clothes. I know, I know. Working out before 7¡ªwho does that? Well, I never would''ve taken myself for ''that'' person. But ever since my ''lovely'' ex started haunting me in my nightmares, I noticed going outside in the morning for a jog or walk helps me clear my head. I put my headphones on, and with a steady beat, I tie my shoes. A minute later, the door locks with a beep, and I step out on the street. Our house lies next to the quiet street that leads through the small neighborhood I call home. Being almost summer, the sun is already up and begins warming up my exposed shoulders. I really should''ve worn sunscreen already. From the corner of my eye, I see movement behind the window. The elderly lady, who lives three houses further down, is also up. She waves at me when she notices me. I wave back and continue my run. Old people and waking up early¡ªI''ve never understood why. When you''ve retired, you can sleep in all you want. And you have no obligations for the rest of the day. So, if you wake up at 6:30, then what are you going to do all day? But she''s a nice lady. She has watched Sam sometimes whenever I had to go out for a job interview. Always secretly, of course. I never want Sam to find out. Sam doesn''t want to be babied, but I don''t want something to happen to her. So, secret watcher, it is. As I keep on running, my breath steady and music heavy in my ear, the fear from the nightmare slowly slips away. By the time I get home, my mind is clear, and it''s 7:15. I hear Sam in the bathroom, so I begin making breakfast. Nothing fancy, just yogurt with some fruit and oats. "Ah, you''re back again?" Sam mutters in the door opening that leads to the kitchen. She still looks sleepy. I am once again stunned by the difference between us. I have straight, blonde hair, while hers is brown and curly. She looks like our dad, and I look like our mother. "The bathroom is free if you wanna use it." She yawns. "Thanks for the breakfast." Like a zombie, she gets a bowl and begins eating. I chuckle. "You''re welcome. I''m gonna take a shower." No answer. At this time of the morning, I shouldn''t even bother with any questions. She either won''t hear them, or if she does, she pretends she doesn''t hear them. I don''t give it further thought and get ready for the day. I had lunch planned with my coworker friends, and to do that, I had to be in the office earlier than usual. My new office job is just as I planned. It''s fun, I have some friends, and it gives me bigger chances to climb up the business ladder. And above all, it''s stable. My boss, Jessica, is amazing and gave me a lot of opportunities to develop my career and get my life on the road. With a troubled ex and a difficult family, I needed that. And now, it''s the sixth-month anniversary of my time at the same office. I wash my hair, turn off the shower, and quickly get dressed. When I get downstairs, Sam is done eating and waiting for me to bring her to school. I pack my breakfast because I don''t have any time to eat it at home, and we quickly get in the car. Music on the radio is the only sound in the car, apart from Sam¡¯s nails clicking against her phone whenever she types something. "Oh yeah, by the way," she tells me, her eyes still on her phone. "I have a party at Christina¡¯s today. So, don¡¯t pick me up!" Assuming she¡¯s messaging Christina, I nod. "Yes, I got it. I won¡¯t pick you up." I continue. ¡°Don¡¯t stay out too late today, and no drinking.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± ¡°If I smell alcohol on you when you come back, I really will not like it.¡± ¡°Yeah. I got it.¡± She briefly looks up from her phone. ¡°Don¡¯t be so paranoid. I won¡¯t become like him or something.¡± A blush creeps up. ¡°I know. I¡¯m just saying.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± I can almost feel her roll her eyes at me, but she continues instead, clicking away on her phone. The music on the radio continues, making it a bit less quiet, but I¡¯m glad when I make it to the school. ¡°Have fun today!¡± I say this as Sam opens the car door and steps out. ¡°Yup. You too, bye!¡± She waves as she turns and walks toward the school. Us being sisters and me acting like a mom is often awkward. It¡¯s especially awkward when she brings up my ex. And she knows it too. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Arriving at work, I''m the first one in the parking lot. That is, until I see Jessica''s car pulling up right next to me in the parking spot. "Melody, good morning!" She waves at me, all smiling and so unlike me. "Morning, Jessica. Early as wellI see?" I smile back politely. Jessica is a 45-year-old woman who looks to have it all figured out. Her hands are neat, her nails are always done, as are her clothes, and she always comes in heels. Compared to her, I look like a toddler. "Yes, my husband told me to take some time off of work so he could take me out for a romantic dinner." She smiles warmly. "He''s the best husband someone could wish for." Oh yeah, and she''s also married. If I had just one word to answer what the perfect life would look like, I would just say Jessica. A loving husband who helps her with everything she asks for and does not ask for. An equal. He''s doing some chores; she''s doing some chores. Equally distributed. I always get depressed whenever I listen to her rambling about her perfect husband. Don''t get me wrong. I''m happy to be single and live with Sam. At the same time, isn''t it kind of sad when you want a partner who does the bare minimum? Such as chores? Like, the bar is so low, and yet, I haven''t found one. The irony isn''t lost on me, believe me. We walk into the big business center together and take the same elevator to the 17th floor. A younger gentleman with black hair joins us in the elevator as well, but when he sees that the 17th floor is already pressed, he relaxes his hand and greets us. Jessica greets him back, as do I. I haven''t seen him around, but on the 17th floor, there''s also another company located, so I figure he works there. The chances of us meeting again are slim, and I don''t want to come off as overly friendly. By the looks of him, he seems young, about my age. If there''s anything I don''t want, it¡¯s for anyone to think I''m available. I quickly glanced at him. His black hair is tousled, and it looks like he tried to style it by brushing his hands through it. If I hadn''t met Brian, my ex, this guy would''ve been my type. "What about you?" Jessica asks, dragging me back to our conversation. "Coming in early for work makes me think you have evening plans as well." She raises her eyebrows suggestively. I laugh a bit awkwardly. "No such thing; trust me. I planned to have lunch with the girls, and I just wanted to put in some extra work. I have that big client I''m working on, so I don''t have the luxury of taking an hour extra off." Jessica sighs. "Ah, so hard-working. Have you already forgotten what I said? Relax and live a little more instead of working all the time." The bell of the elevator rings, and the three of us go out, walking towards the reception, where the employee greets us politely. Here''s where I usually go right, and Jessica goes left. "I know; I haven''t forgotten. I promise, after this client, I''ll take it easy for a little bit." I laugh. "It feels a bit weird to promise to relax for my boss, though." Jessica laughs too. "Well, I''m not every day''s boss, you know?" She winks. "When you decide to take it a little easier, you gotta live a little. Go on dates, perhaps. You have a nice face; I''m sure the boys are lined up for you." After that comment, she pats me on the shoulder and wishes me good luck with the work. Then she turns to the guy who got out of the elevator with us. "Mr. Hong? Please come with me." I look at them while they walk away. It looks like I underestimated the presence of Mr. Hong. I shake my head, trying to focus on the work that awaits me. "Well, Jessica," I murmur while walking to my desk, "believe it or not, I''m not willing to go on dates. I don''t have romance in my cards. And honestly, I don''t want it." The nightmare from this morning resurfaces for a second. I shiver. No, I''m sure of it. Romance isn''t for me, and I''m not even sure if it''s real. Don''t get me wrong. I''m not a depressed person, nor am I a pessimistic one. I only happen to know so many bad examples of ''romance'' that I don''t believe in it. My parents didn¡¯t have it. Their parents also didn¡¯t have it. When I first met Brian, I thought my story would go a bit differently, but I was wrong. In my opinion, true romance comes with every blue moon, and I have never seen a blue moon. For the remainder of the morning, I just work. I put Jessica''s words out of my head and made sure a part of my work was done before lunch. The big client, Mr. Miller, is demanding more and more, and I am considering if I should just tell Jessica about it. He wants me to write the revisions, but that is not my work. Grammatical and spelling checks, sure. Yes, give him advice about how to better engage with the readers. It''s not my job however, to rewrite his work into something sellable. "So, are you just going to sigh all day, or are you going to have lunch with us?" When I tear my eyes away from the paper before me, I see Ava looking down at me with her arms crossed. Ava is my direct supervisor, who works under Jessica. Jessica and she have a lot of meetings together, which Ava then directs to me and to Isabella, who stands right next to her, forever holding her notebook. Isabella joined the company about 3 months ago and is the assistant to Ava, although Ava also lends her as my assistant sometimes, which I''m forever grateful for. "Sorry, what time is it?" "Way too late, as usual." She turns to Isabella. "Remind me again that when we''re planning a lunch with Miss Busy, we have to leave 10 minutes early." I grin. "Sorry, again. Let me just fix this one sentence. Then, I''ll join you!" I hear Ava sigh next to me, but then she leaves. "Let''s go, Isabella." And then to me: "5 more minutes!" Eventually, they ended up shutting my laptop down after making sure I''d saved it and dragging me out. We go to the place we usually visit. It''s a cozy caf¨¦ that serves all kinds of coffee, cakes, and lunches. It''s nothing fancy, but the vibes are great, and, not to forget, it''s a book caf¨¦. Everywhere you look, there are books. And the best part is; you''re encouraged to read them by the staff. Having ordered our food, Ava is the first to bring up the gossip. "So, has anyone seen Mr. Hotshot already? I''ve heard we''re getting a new employee, and he''s going to work in our team." "Mr. Hotshot? Who''s that?" Isabella''s curiosity chimes in. "Mr. Hong," Ava says with an air of mystery. "Sounds cool, right?" I bite my sandwich and don''t dare say a word this morning. If I heard Jessica right, that means I''ve met this so-called ''Mr. Hotshot''. "Melody. You''re suspiciously quiet." Ava looks at me. "Spill." I smile awkwardly. "Well, I was going up the elevator this morning with Jessica, and a younger guy whose name is Mr. Hong joined us." When I don''t say anything else, the girls urge me to go on. I laugh. "He''s cute, I think. I''m not looking for anything right now. Also, if you''re right and he''s going to be working on our team, that means he''s going to be our coworker. Dating coworkers will only bring trouble." "Yeah, yeah." Ava waives my concerns away. "We know. But this could be good, right?" I raise an eyebrow at Ava. "Good? In what way? As I said, dating brings trouble." "Who said anything about dating?" Ava says. The conversation falls silent, and even Isabella, who is usually the chattiest out of the three of us, falls silent. I laugh. "What? You''re talking about a rebound, friends with benefits?" When she doesn''t say anything, I sit back in my chair. "Wow, you want me to lose my job, huh?" "No, of course not." Ava laughs. "I''m just saying it could be good to get back into the dating game. After what you''ve been through, you deserve it." I sigh as I take a sip from my drink. "That''s cute, but dating or whatever with a coworker is the worst idea ever. I''m never going to do that." "Hm, sad. I hoped we could go on a double date." She says it innocently. I know she''s everything but innocent. If the stories are true, then she has dated more than 20 guys. Not long, of course, and no strings attached. Still, I respect her for doing her own thing and not being ashamed of it. If I were to do that, I would have anxiety about what people were thinking of me. After our lunch, we get back to work. I''m in the middle of fixing one of Mr. Miller''s mistakes, which is still not my job when Jessica walks in with Mr. Hong, or "Hotshot.". "Ava, Melody, and Isabella Let me introduce you to Jason Hong. He will be part of your team as a literary agent, just like Melody. " She guides Jason towards me. "Melody, your task is to teach Jason everything you know and make him feel part of the team." Chapter 2 I smile politely as I extend my hand and stand up. ¡°Nice to meet you and welcome. I''m Melody.¡± I don¡¯t know why, but suddenly, I¡¯m feeling nervous, as if I¡¯m meeting a celebrity. ¡°Hi. Nice to meet you. I''m Jason.¡± He smiles politely as well as he shakes my hand. I can almost feel the stares from Ava and Isabel over their desktops towards me and Jason. I must admit; Ava was right. Mr. Hong has all the rights to be called Mr. Hotshot. With his deep brown eyes, soft voice, and sweet smile, he¡¯s my type. His hand feels warm in mine and for a split second, I could almost see us walking hand in hand. Then I break eye contact and release his hand. ¡°Jason will work directly under Melody, so, to Melody the question: if you have any feedback, say it to Jason. He''s here on a three-month trial, so you must teach him quick.¡± She says. ¡°If there¡¯s anything else, then let me know.¡± I nod. 3-months is doable and not too bad. However, I''m not too thrilled to have an ¡®intern¡¯ at my side now. Especially someone who looks like him. When he grabs a seat next to me, I can briefly smell his cologne. He looks like that, and he even smells good. Damn it. ¡°Welcome to the team, Jason.¡± Ava says as she extends her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Ava.¡± They shake hands, and then Isabella also introduces herself before sitting down again. I feel jittery, like a storm is coming. ¡°So¡­¡± he starts. ¡°We¡¯re should I begin, boss?¡± I chuckle and look at him. I¡¯m met with those same brown eyes, and I can¡¯t help but think they are the prettiest eyes I¡¯ve ever seen. ¡°Well, for starters, don¡¯t call me boss. It makes me feel old, and I¡¯m not that old. Don¡¯t worry.¡± After those words left my mouth, I can¡¯t help but feel stupid. He¡¯s not at all going to care how old I am. But thankfully he says nothing. He doesn¡¯t even chuckle or smile or show any other sign he finds me being stupid. ¡°Sure, thing. Melody, then?¡± As soon as my name leaves his lips, a tingle in my body shoots up. ¡°Yes, Melody is fine.¡± He can say my name as much as he wants. I teach him the ropes of the trade. I try to not care too much about Ava¡¯s stares and Isabella¡¯s always listening ears, but I only succeed half. Jason''s learning distracts the other half. Although the name is a bit cringe, ¡®Mr. Hotshot¡¯ is a fitting name for Jason. Apart from looking great, he¡¯s also smart and seems passionate about what he¡¯s doing. He asks smart questions, takes my feedback at heart and I feel almost proud already of being his supervisor. About an hour into work, he sits up and taps me on the shoulder. ¡°Melody?¡± I look at him, half distracted again, but this time by work. He holds up a credit card. ¡°Do you also want some coffee?¡± I shake my head. ¡°No, don¡¯t worry. I''ll get it myself later.¡± Hoping I didn¡¯t sound too rude, I turn away again, but he stops me. ¡°No, really,¡± he says. ¡°I need some coffee and I think we all can use a break?¡± he gestures to Ava and Isabella as well. From the corner of my eyes, I almost see Ava¡¯s ears pop up. Isabella is less subtle with it. ¡°Coffee and a small break sound great!¡± ¡°You know,¡± I interrupt them before they can walk off together. ¡°You don¡¯t have to make it a habit to get us coffee. You¡¯re going to be a full-time employee, which means you don¡¯t have to get us anything.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying, with full confidence, that I can be a full-time employee?¡± ¡°Of course. Just listen to my feedback and do as I say, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± He laughs. A true laugh this time. Not a chuckle or a polite smile. ¡°Well, then getting a coffee is the least thing I can do.¡± He then leaves, together with Isabella, to get us coffee downstairs at the cafe. The second the elevator doors close, Ava turns to me, a smug smile on her face. But before she can say anything, I interrupt her. ¡°Don¡¯t say anything, please. I¡¯m just being nice to him.¡± She laughs and makes a face that says she doesn¡¯t believe me at all, but luckily says nothing. Thank god for that, because now I can hide my face for a bit. I add another thing to the mental list I created in my head, titled: all the things I like about Jason. His laugh is by far my favorite thing. Before I can think any further, I stop myself. This is an employee I¡¯m talking about. A junior at that. There¡¯s no way I can like this person. So, I sit, and I type, and I work, until all the thoughts, unrelated to work, have been safely tucked away. Apart from the coffee incident, nothing else interesting happens. I have my hands full of correcting Mr. Miller¡¯s mistakes, and Jason keeps on working in silence. And then suddenly, it¡¯s 5 o¡¯clock. It''s the end of the working day already but I really want to finish this document so I can send it to Mr. Miller again and be done with it. I have about 3 pages left and just when I want to continue working, Jason interrupts and asks me: "Aren¡¯t you going home?" I look at him and see that he¡¯s already clearing everything out so he could leave. Ava and Isabella also went home, but I don''t think I noticed them going. Diverting my eye back to Jason, I notice that he¡¯s hesitating. "Ah, I¡¯m not done yet." I say quickly. "I¡¯ll finish soon, though. But you can go home already! I¡¯ll see you tomorrow." I wave at him to get him going, but he hesitates still. "Are you sure? Can¡¯t I do anything? Maybe I can do something too, so we can finish it faster?" Already going to sit down again, I gesture at him. "No, it¡¯s okay. Truthfully, I¡¯m not even supposed to do this, so it¡¯s not your job to take this from me. It¡¯s okay, so don¡¯t worry about it. Just go home and I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, okay?" Hesitantly, he gives in and packs his things. "Okay, well¡­ see you tomorrow. Good luck with the work you¡¯re not supposed to do." "Thank you. Have a good evening." I wave at him and continue my work. "Freaking Mr. Miller. Letting me do all these things. I need to have a talk with him and Jessica too..." I mumble to myself. Miller was Jessica¡¯s first client ever, so I can¡¯t just be stern with him. Or maybe I can, but I just don¡¯t know it. I jot down "meeting Jessica" on my calendar for tomorrow and continue with the daunting task. About an hour later, I¡¯m finally finished. I send the reviewed file to the client and then turn off my computer. I¡¯m finally done for today. Sam has the party thing with her friend, so I¡¯m in no hurry to get home. That is until I get a call from my landlord. "Mr. Grant. Good evening." I gather my stuff and head towards the elevator. "Miss Winters. Good evening. I was planning on calling you, but I completely forgot about it. Don¡¯t worry,¡± he adds quickly. ¡°it¡¯s not about something you did or didn¡¯t do. As always, you¡¯re an impeccable renter." I laugh as I press the elevator button. "Ah, that¡¯s okay. And you know I take care of things that are given to me, especially for such a price." When Sam and I were looking for a house or studio or room or basically anything to live in, Mr. Grant came as an angel. The older man had lived his peaceful life together with his wife in the house and wanted to rent it out when they moved to another, smaller house. When he heard about our difficult situation, he didn¡¯t hesitate and trusted us by asking me what I could pay him and what I thought the house was worth. I named my price, and he accepted it. I¡¯ve heard horror stories about landlords, but this man was, and is, a godsend. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "But tell me," I continue. "What did you want to talk to me about?" "Right." He coughs like he''s uncomfortable and says: "I rented the spare room out and the new tenant, a guy, is moving in this evening." The elevator dings and opens the doors, but I can¡¯t move. Out of all the things he could¡¯ve said, I never thought it would be like this. One of the amazing things about this place I was living in, was that I could live there on my own with Sam. No one else to bother me. Granted, we¡¯ve lived here for about 3 years and things are not as desperate as in the first few months we moved in, but still. I stand still in the elevator, and it¡¯s only when it closes again that I¡¯m able to walk out. "I¡¯m sorry?" I ask, still dumbfounded, not knowing what else to say. "I¡¯m sure this comes as a shock to you, and I¡¯m sorry that I¡¯m only telling you now. I don¡¯t want to blame it on my age, but I tend to get forgetful these days." "When did you hear about it?" I ask him. He thinks for a second but then answers: "If I remember correctly, and that is a big if, it was a few months ago." Months? He knows about it for months and doesn¡¯t call or let me know anything. Old people and their forgetfulness. I get that he¡¯s old, but certain things should be remembered since they¡¯re just that important. He continues again. "Miss Winter, I¡¯m sorry to inform you this late, but there¡¯s a good reason to why I¡¯m renting this room out. Please listen to me." You better have a good story, I think by myself, but I just hum, showing he should go on. Meanwhile, I¡¯m getting a cab. The buses and the metros and all the people listening in on my conversation shouldn''t be bothering me. Mr. Grant goes on how this new tenant, which he can¡¯t remember the name of, desperately needed a house. ¡°He started today at his new job and if he couldn¡¯t find a house, he had to say no to the company. Seeing how you started out the same way; I thought it would¡¯ve been a nice gesture of me to lend him the spare room.¡± A nice gesture? I scoff. It would¡¯ve been a nice gesture if he would¡¯ve let me know, the first tenant, that there¡¯s going to be a second one. I sigh reluctantly. "Mr. Grant. First, I understand your position and his position, but then again, I really would¡¯ve wanted you to tell me before. I don¡¯t think this can just be done like this.¡± "I¡¯m very sorry, Miss Winters, but there¡¯s nothing I can do now about it. I only suddenly realised it because the renter texted me, asking for the address because he wanted to confirm it. What I can do is look out for any other room. If there¡¯s an option available, I¡¯ll let you know immediately. Maybe it can be arranged within a month." The old man sounds apologetic, and I really want to believe him, but I¡¯m just too overloaded with information. First, there¡¯s someone renting the spare room. Second, it¡¯s a guy. Third, he¡¯s coming this evening. Like, what else is there? For all I know, he could be a serial killer. For a second, I think it''s Brian. It could be. Maybe he found me. Maybe he chose another name because Mr. Grant knows that my ex¡¯s name is Brian and that I never want to see him again. But then again, my landlord would never give the room to Brian, would he? "I think that¡¯s a good option." I say, closing my eyes for a second, to get rid of the image of Brian living in my house. "Please be on the lookout for any other room. Thank you for understanding the situation. If you could inform me as soon as possible, that would be great." He apologises again, obviously feeling sorry, and disconnects the call. This is crazy, bizarre, and shouldn¡¯t happen. Hell, I don¡¯t think this is even legal. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something in the contract about notifying a renter that someone is going to move in a few weeks before. Then again, our contract was based more on trust than actual rules. I curse at myself for being too easygoing and note that whenever we move out and get a new house contract, I would read it from beginning to end, knowing my exact rights, and keeping them. For now, that promise was futile, as it already happened. "I can¡¯t fucking believe this..." I mutter when I finally come out of my shocked state and tell the taxi driver to hurry. Hoping to come home to a nice person who wasn¡¯t an abusive ex, but a normal person. When I finally, finally reach home, because of course, there was a lot of traffic and it took longer than usual, the lights in the house were turned on. "Damn it¡­" I pay the taxi driver, thank him for the ride, and get out. As I¡¯m walking towards my house, I feel this nervous energy settling into my bones. I don''t know who to expect and what to come home to. Is it a burglar? It could be. A burglar who makes it easy on himself and turns on all the nice lights. Yes, that was totally believable. When I reach the front door, I have the strange urge to ring the doorbell. Instead, I reach for the keys in my bag and hesitantly open the door. "Hello? Sam?" A futile hope. I knew it. Despite that, I wish it¡¯s Sam and the call with Mr. Grant is all just a weird nightmare. In the daytime. While I¡¯m fully awake. "Hello?" A male voice answers. Damn it. My heart drops in my stomach. This is not Sam. I hear clutter in the kitchen, pans being washed, and glasses in the water. No, definitely not. Sam wouldn¡¯t do the dishes in the first place, not out of her own good self. I put down my bag in the hallway but leave my coat and shoes on. I need to know now. Nerves are clawing at my throat, my breath is too shaky, and I try to collect myself, try to brace myself to see Brian again. Until I turn the corner from the living room to the kitchen and I see who is living here now, too. "You?" Once again this evening, my world stands still. Jason fucking Hong is in my kitchen, with my apron around his waist and my pink gloves on his hands. "What the hell are you doing here?" He looks like he was in the middle of doing the dishes, with the soap on the gloves and water dripping down onto the floor. He laughs awkwardly. "Living here... I guess you¡¯re the other tenant?" ¡°Yeah, I am¡­¡± Relief washes over me. It¡¯s not Brian. He hasn¡¯t found me yet. I¡¯m still safe. For a few seconds, we just stare at each other. Me, trying to collect my thoughts and getting my heart rate down. Him, probably thinking I¡¯m weird when I¡¯m just staring at him like that. ¡°Right¡­¡± I say. ¡°Uh, well, by the way, I don¡¯t live by myself.¡± His eyes widen. "Oh, I have two new housemates? Your boyfriend, I assume?" "No, my little sister." I say. "I don¡¯t have a boyfriend. I don¡¯t date.¡± I don''t know why I just said that. It''s not like it''s important information for him to know. ¡°Ah.¡± He smiles again, not noticing my embarrassment. "Noted." There¡¯s a short silence between us and now that the situation dawns on me, I realize how stupid this is. My new coworker, who started today at my company, who I had to mentor, is living in my home, as a tenant and he¡¯s wearing my apron and doing the freaking dishes. I can¡¯t help but laugh. "You know, you could¡¯ve given me a heads up." I laugh as I take off my coat and shoes, and walk back into the living room, towards the hallway. "If I had known you¡¯d be the other person, I would¡¯ve. Promise¡± For a moment, he also looks relieved, but then he turns around to the kitchen and I can¡¯t read him anymore. ¡°I understand this is a very weird and possibly uncomfortable situation. Believe me, I didn¡¯t know." The clutter in the sink starts again and when I emerge from the hallway, now comfortable slippers on, he continues. "I¡¯m sure you have some house rules, and I¡¯ll follow them all. Let me finish the dishes and-," He suddenly stopped talking and turns to face me. "Wait, have you eaten something?" I shake my head. "Not yet, but I¡¯ll order in. Don¡¯t worry about it. You do the dishes and then we need to talk." ¡°Oh, no it¡¯s okay. I can totally cook something. I have some leftovers?¡± I blink once, twice, thinking his proposal over. This evening is already weird and uncomfortable. I don¡¯t want to make it even more uncomfortable. I wave his proposal away. "No, really. It¡¯s fine. I already had something in mind to order, anyway." "Okay, sure thing." He fully turns around now and continues washing the rest of his dishes. I sigh a breath of relief; thankful he didn¡¯t push more. "So, when did you find out someone else was living here, too?" I ask, taking out my phone to look at the food delivery app. He laughs. "Since yesterday. Mr. Grant called me yesterday evening, confirming all my information and my contract. I honestly thought I was going to live with a few guys, but the moment I stepped into the hallway and saw heels, I knew it was different." He drains the water from the sink and starts drying the just washed plate, cutlery and other kitchen stuff. For a second, I¡¯m blown away. A guy who cleans is one thing, but it¡¯s another thing when he also dries the dishes? I sometimes don¡¯t even do that. "Of course, I did not know it would¡¯ve been you. Again, I would¡¯ve said something, of course. Honestly, I thought the landlord would let you know way earlier.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too." I hesitate before I continue. "I bet you¡¯re a lovely guy, it¡¯s just¡­ this situation is just...¡± ¡°Weird.¡± He finishes my sentence for me. ¡°I understand. You don¡¯t know me that well, and you also didn¡¯t have any time to prepare. I totally get it.¡± We smile at each other, both trying to deal with the situation in our own way. "Well," I break the silence. "I¡¯m going to order some food. Let¡¯s talk after that?" Jason looks relieved, having the moment of ''meeting each other'' out of the way and some break to gather his thoughts as well. Or maybe that¡¯s just wishful thinking. Chapter 3 - And they were roommates After I ordered my food, sushi, we both sat down on the couch. Jason offered to make some coffee for us while we talked, and I took him up on it. But only on the promise of either making or getting him some coffee the next time. Cross-legged, I sip my coffee. Nothing fancy, just freshly brewed coffee with a splash of milk in it. It¡¯s perfect. I warm my hands around and look at Jason over the border of the cup. ¡°So,¡± he starts. ¡°So,¡± I say, laughing awkwardly. I wish a hole in the ground would swallow me whole so I could disappear. Of course, that doesn¡¯t happen, and I¡¯m forced to deal with the situation. ¡°Okay, some facts first,¡± I begin. ¡°I can¡¯t kick you out, obviously. You have a valid contract, and on the other side, there¡¯s an available room for you.¡± Jason releases a breath of relief. ¡°Thank God. I really thought you were going to kick me out.¡± ¡°What?¡± I exclaim. ¡°No! Of course not. I can¡¯t kick you out. And although the situation is sudden and absurd, and I also think it''s not entirely legal since the landlord let me know 20 minutes before instead of the required one month, it¡¯s not too bad. We just have to come up with a way to handle this situation.¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°Which we have to think about.¡± ¡°Right.¡± I look over at him. ¡°Any suggestions?¡± I see him thinking, absent-mindedly stirring his coffee. ¡°Hmm. So, the first thing we have to deal with is you and me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ deal with you and me?" I put down my coffee cup on the table. ¡°What does that mean?¡± ¡°Nothing, nothing bad, I mean. It¡¯s just, you know, we work together, and now we live together... We might have to avoid certain situations.¡± He looks at me, trying to convey some secret message to me. ¡°Like what kind of situations?¡± ¡°You have no idea?¡± Jason looks like the next few words are going to be painful. I think about it. Then it hits me. ¡°Like what? Dating? Don¡¯t worry about that. I don¡¯t date.¡± He blinks. ¡°Right, sure, that too.¡± A hint of pink flushes his cheeks, but it¡¯s gone before I can look at it well. ¡°I meant as in us being at work, all professional-like, and then in the evening running into each other when we have to use the bathroom.¡± Right. That makes way more sense. I don¡¯t even know why I thought about us dating. Like I said, I don¡¯t date. ¡°Ah, like that. Right. That could be awkward for sure.¡± I grimace. ¡°Hmm¡­ what about a schedule? For example, I like to run in the morning, so I take a shower at 7 a.m.¡± ¡°Everyday?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± He nods. ¡°Oh, okay.¡± ¡°Is there a problem with that?¡± I cross my arms, feeling annoyed. Jason chuckles. ¡°No. No problem. It¡¯s just that I didn¡¯t know you were that kind of girl.¡± ¡°That kinda girl?¡± I repeat. ¡°The kinda girl who takes care of herself and works out. Why? Is that a bad thing?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a bad thing, of course. Taking care of yourself is important. I¡¯m just saying that I thought you were a more laid-back-.¡± He stops again, closes his eyes, and sighs. ¡°You know what?¡± He opens his eyes again and looks at me. ¡°Whatever I say is going to sound wrong, so I won¡¯t say anything. Good for you, working out every day at 7.¡± He gives me a somewhat awkward thumbs up and seems to sink into the couch some more. I can already feel my annoyance slipping away. ¡°¡­Right¡­ Well, you are definitely different when you¡¯re at work.¡± I say. It seems like all the smoothness and easygoingness stayed at work, and all that is left is a sweet guy who rambles a bit too much. ¡°Anyways,¡± I continue. ¡°How about the chores? Who is going to do what?¡± The next hour we¡¯re discussing chores and schedules and talking about our own schedules and what we usually do and don¡¯t do in the morning, afternoon, or evening. I found out Jason doesn¡¯t really party, but seeing his behavior now, it shouldn¡¯t surprise me as much as it did. I typed away all our rules in a document I put together and sent it to the printer. A few seconds later, I bring the document to the table with a pen. ¡°So, to finalize everything, please sign underneath.¡± I tap with the pen where he needs to sign, and although he chuckles, he doesn¡¯t say anything and signs the paper. Then he handed the pen to me, and I also put down my signature. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Jason Hong¡± and ¡°Melody Winters¡±. ¡°It¡¯s official now,¡± Jason says. ¡°We¡¯re officially living together.¡± He extends his hand, and I reluctantly shake it. I smile. ¡°Awesome.¡± Then I hear the front door being unlocked. ¡°Hi!¡± Sam¡¯s voice sounds through the house. It¡¯s only a matter of time before I hear her slow down her movements. After a few seconds, I don¡¯t hear anything. Then she¡¯s running towards the door that leads to the living room. She comes, bursting through the door. ¡°Did you bring someone?¡± Her eyes fall on Jason. "Oh, my god. You brought someone home!¡± I roll my eyes. ¡°Sam, don¡¯t get the wrong idea.¡± I point to Jason, who¡¯s sitting on the couch, looking between me and Sam. ¡°This is Jason; he¡¯s my coworker and, since today, also our housemate.¡± ¡°Housemate?¡± She shrieks. ¡°And they were roommates!¡± She cups her own face with her hands, imitating ¡®The Scream¡¯, before she throws her jacket onto the ground. I¡¯ve never seen her this excited. Then I noticed her cheeks, her wide eyes, and her odd behavior. I¡¯ve never seen her drunk; that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t notice it sooner. She even promised me this morning... Before I can ask if she¡¯s been drinking, she is already shaking Jason¡¯s hand. ¡°Well, welcome housemate! It¡¯s such an honor to have you here. You know, she never brings anyone. Neverr," she annunciates. I sigh, controlling my anger. ¡°And Jason, this is Sam, my little sister.¡± Jason, the good guy that he is, shakes Sam¡¯s hand back and just smiles. ¡°I thought as much.¡± ¡°Hi, and this is my sister, Melody.¡± Sam interrupts. ¡°She¡¯s the boring one. Did I tell you she doesn¡¯t date?¡± ¡°So, I¡¯ve heard. It¡¯s too bad, honestly.¡± He smiles and looks at me for a second before turning away again. I blink a few times, unable to place the look in his eyes. But before I can give it another thought, Sam goes on. ¡°Right?! She should go out and meet new people. But no, Miss I¡¯m-already-80-years-old doesn¡¯t go to parties or hang out with any guys. I think it¡¯s because she has this ex, Brain, and... My rising anger was something I could control. However, when she mentions Brian, anxiety takes over. ¡°Okay! I think that¡¯s enough for now.¡± I walk towards her, trying to stop her. ¡°Why? I¡¯m having fun with my new friend, Jason. You should have fun too.¡± She wiggles her eyebrows. ¡°If you know what I mean.¡± Heat creeps up, but I blame it on the anger. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Sam.¡± I interrupt her the second time. ¡°You¡¯re going to bed now. And tomorrow we¡¯ll have a conversation about drinking on a school night.¡± Deflated but still annoyed, Sam walks towards the door and says, ¡°Yeah, yeah, mom... Whatever.¡± She finally leaves the room, leaving Jason and me with a weird vibe. With my back toward him, I can feel my heart pounding. There¡¯s no way Sam was drinking, and there¡¯s no way she started talking about my ex. Still trying to control my anger, I ball my hands into fists and turn around to face Jason. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I say. ¡°She¡¯s super chaotic and drunk, so... Don¡¯t mind her words.¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s okay. I get it. I have two sisters. They can be like that too sometimes. To each other, I mean.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s difficult sometimes. But we manage. Or we try to, at least.¡± Jason chuckles. ¡°It¡¯s okay. You seem to be doing fine.¡± It¡¯s quiet for a bit when Jason says, ¡°You know, I know things are chaotic now. With me moving in and such, but really, I¡¯m a good housemate. You don¡¯t have to worry about anything. I¡¯m clean; as you know, I also work, and I¡¯m a good cook, if I say so myself. If you¡¯re having second thoughts about me staying here, I can always cook you something and then think about it.¡± I laugh. ¡°I know. It¡¯s just very hectic today. First, you are new to work, and then you are living here suddenly. It¡¯s just a lot for me to take in.¡± I then continue, ¡°But for you too, I think.¡± ¡°Yeah, you could say that. First day of work, first day of moving in. I got to meet an awesome mentor who doesn¡¯t order me around for once, but now I¡¯m living together with her and her little sister.¡± He laughs. ¡°Sounds like a clich¨¦ movie.¡± ¡°You could say that.¡± I laugh too; it really sounds clich¨¦, and when I remember that I also must tell the girls at work about this news, anxiety bubbles up. They¡¯re going to have a field trip with this. I can already feel a headache coming up and will go to bed early tonight. Hopefully, to get rid of my coming headache, but also to get away from Jason, just for a bit. That night, I couldn¡¯t sleep well. In the evening, I said to Jason that although the situation is weird, it¡¯s not that weird either. Just uncommon terrain. The document or contract was a good thing. We both put in our efforts and our thoughts, and now we have some roadmaps for how to get through this uncommon terrain. I sigh and close my eyes. I hope that tomorrow everything goes a bit back to normal again. My running routine, my morning, my work, and then coming home again. I don¡¯t even want to worry about the fact that Sam mentioned my ex, and I can only hope that Jason forgets about it and doesn¡¯t bring it up anymore. When I wake up, I¡¯m sweating already. Another bad dream. Although I can¡¯t remember anymore what it was about, I can only think of one bad dream that shakes me this much. I climb out of bed and get dressed to run. Today is a bit of a grey day, and I kind of don¡¯t want to leave my room, where I¡¯m safe from yesterday¡¯s events, but one way or another, I must go out anyway. I open my bedroom door, finding the hallway empty. Jason mentioned he was a light sleeper, so I¡¯m extra quiet when I knock on Sam¡¯s door. ¡°Sam?¡± I knock again. ¡°Sam, are you up?¡± I hear some sounds, but there is no real answer. I cautiously open the door. Her head is halfway under the blanket, and her room smells like stale beer. I grimace. I never liked the smell, ever since our mom was a heavy drinker. Sam was too young, but I remember it vividly. I remember the feeling of it too. Fear and the feeling that I¡¯m unable to do anything. I shake the feeling off and walk towards the bed. ¡°Sam.¡± I shake her shoulder. ¡°Hey, you have to wake up.¡± ¡°Leave me alone... I¡¯m sick¡­¡± She gruntles. I let out a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you later then. Just remember, Jason¡¯s also here, so try to keep it together, okay?¡± She responds with a sigh of her own. I leave her to it. At this point, it hardly matters anyway. Considering Sam¡¯s behavior yesterday, it¡¯s a miracle Jason¡¯s still here. I quietly close her door behind me and head off to focus on my own tasks. Hopefully, I can distract myself from this mess for a while longer. Jason leaves earlier than me that morning, affording me some extra time to gather my thoughts. As I prepare breakfast, I hear Sam descending the stairs. ¡°Good morning.¡± I say this as I sip my coffee. ¡°Morning. Do we have any painkillers? I¡¯ve got a major headache. I arch an eyebrow. ¡°Hmm, wonder why...¡± I fetch some painkillers from the cabinet and hand them to her, along with a glass of water. ¡°Let¡¯s talk.¡± She sinks into a chair, too hungover to protest much. I take a seat across from her, studying her carefully. My anger from yesterday comes roaring its ugly head again, and I try to push it down as much as I can. Not completely succeeding in that, I say, ¡°I don¡¯t get it, Sam. I really, really don¡¯t.¡± I put my cup on the table. ¡°We talked about it. In the car. You weren¡¯t going to drink.¡± ¡°I know. I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± She mumbles, her eyes downcast. I feel like I¡¯m not getting anywhere. I sigh. I rub my temples. The headache is caused by stress, and this is not helping to ease the pain. ¡°Look. I¡¯m not mom, so I won¡¯t tell you that you cannot drink at all, but you were drunk, Sam. I was really worried. What if you didn¡¯t come home? What if something happened? You have to take better care of yourself. Don¡¯t be so drunk that you don¡¯t know what is happening.¡± Her head barely comes up, a mere sign of protest, when she says, ¡°I knew what I was doing, and I knew where I was supposed to go.¡± ¡°Oh yeah? You knew what you were doing. What about the stuff you told Jason? About Brian. That¡¯s not your story to tell. You know that.¡± She doesn¡¯t say anything but just hangs her head with her hands folded in her lap. ¡°I know¡­ I was drunk. It won¡¯t happen again.¡± I let out another sigh, the weight of the situation hanging heavy between us. ¡°Just try to be more considerate. Especially now that Jason¡¯s going to live here. Things are going to change.¡± ¡°He¡¯s really staying?¡± She raises her head, her eyes still looking bloodshot and tired, but I try to ignore that for a second. I shrug. ¡°I can¡¯t change it. Mr. Grant rented him the room. He says he¡¯ll try to find another solution, but I doubt that¡¯ll happen. And he can¡¯t just kick Jason out without a good reason.¡± We fall into silence again. She¡¯s still not initiating any talk, and although I feel like she¡¯s mad at me for talking to her like a mother, I cannot just accept her drinking like that. I¡¯ll figure out how to say sorry later. ¡°What about you?¡± I sigh. ¡°Are you going to school?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ I¡¯ve got a pounding headache.¡± ¡°Sam¡­¡± ¡°I know, okay? I overdid it. But can I please just stay home?¡± I look at her face. She looks like she¡¯s feeling guilty for yesterday, and I¡¯m again lost in the roles of mother and sister. In the end, she came home, and she was safe. She wasn¡¯t ashamed to show me she was drunk, so maybe she thought I wasn¡¯t going to judge her for drinking here. I sigh, but tell her she can stay home for today. I glance at the clock on the wall. I¡¯m already later than usual, and I pack my things for this day. I have a meeting to get to. Chapter 4 - Partner in crime When I enter the office, Jason is already there. Seeing him at work feels... strange, to say the least. Just an hour ago, we were housemates, and now we¡¯re working together. If he wasn¡¯t my mentee, I could just ignore him, and it would be less awkward. But now, we are forced to work together, discussing work-related things while I know what pajamas he wears to bed. Like I said, strange. "Good morning," I greet him, suddenly feeling awkward. "Morning," he responds, his tone also tinged with awkwardness. Or maybe that¡¯s just my mind playing tricks on me, trying to make me feel better. Ava and Isabella haven¡¯t arrived yet. Good. That gives me some time to get accustomed to this work environment again and learn how to be an adult. As I check my emails and respond to a few, I let my mind wander for a bit. To be honest, I don¡¯t even know why I am so awkward now. Sure, it is a weird situation, and I am sure Ava would love this turn of events, but after a week, maybe, if I am lucky, after a few days, she will already be off my back about it. Besides, it is not my fault that he lives with me now. So, I can just tell them. Sure, I can. In theory. But, like hell, I am going to. I am not ready for any glances or talks whatsoever. "Jason," I whisper loudly. "Yeah?" He removes one of his headphones and looks at me. I lean over to him, and he mirrors me, making it seem like we are sharing a big secret between the two of us. Which we are, although I know, rationally, it isn¡¯t that big a thing. "Listen, I just want to tell you that..." I trail off, my ears picking up on the elevator bell. Having worked here for a few months, I barely hear it anymore, but now that I don¡¯t want anyone to come in, I see Ava, followed by Jessica, entering the hallway. "Meet me later at the printer," I whisper quickly before leaning back again and resuming a normal working posture, or at least attempting to. Gosh, I am so nervous. Get it together! I tell myself. "Good morning!" Ava sings as she enters the office. "How are you guys?" "Good morning to you too. We¡¯re good¡ªI mean, I¡¯m good. You?" I reply. Ava slows her steps, giving me a funny look before resuming her normal pace until she arrives at her desk and drops her bag. "Good, good. Also, wanna have lunch today together?" She signals not only to me but also to Jason. Unfortunately for me and my plans, Jason also agrees. "Yeah, that sounds great," Jason agrees. Ava laughs. "Awesome! I¡¯ll make some reservations." She sits down, and I dare to glance at Jason, who doesn¡¯t seem bothered by this at all. I have to remind myself that I shouldn¡¯t be bothered by this either. The only person who thinks this is a problem is me, for no good reason at all. I often have this monologue going on in my head, where my rational brain is working normally, picking up on my stupidity fueled by my feelings. Such as now. Rationally, I know that living together is, sure, unusual, but it¡¯s not as bad as my feelings are telling me. Sadly, for me, my feelings are much more demanding. Unable to keep pretending to work, I stand up, and as I walk past Jason, I tap on his shoulder as discreetly as I can. I keep on walking, and I don¡¯t look back to see if he follows me or not. The printing room is across the hallway, right next to Jessica¡¯s room, so I¡¯ll have to be casual about it. I¡¯m awkward, but at least I know how to pretend not to be awkward. I decided I wanted to print some of the pages from Mr. Miller, so later, when I have the meeting with Jessica, I can show her exactly what is bothering me. A good cover, if I say so myself. I¡¯m waiting in the printer room, but I don¡¯t have to wait long before Jason appears in the doorway. "Is everything okay?" He hesitates. "Come in, close the door." I gesture when I start the printer. With one hand on the console of the printer, I try to distract myself when I say, "I know this might sound stupid, but I need to say it." "Okay," he replies. The printer makes his start-up noises, and I finally turn around. "I don¡¯t want you to tell anyone at work that you¡¯re living in my house," I confess. "Our house," he corrects. "And sure, but why?" "I just feel embarrassed about the whole situation," I admit, feeling awkward flow over me. "It¡¯s all so strange, and I haven¡¯t figured out how to explain it to people yet. So, please, keep it between us." He frowns, more surprised than angry, which is what I expected. "Am I that bad?" He even seems to find it mildly amusing. "No, not at all; that¡¯s not what I meant." I reassure him. "It¡¯s just... I¡¯m not ready for everyone to know yet." Again, I feel my cheeks warm up, as if I¡¯m a kid who has to confess that they stole candy from the candy jar. He chuckles. "I don¡¯t mind it, but you seem clearly bothered by it, so sure. Whatever you say, I¡¯ll follow. However, the longer you wait, the weirder it will seem when you finally do tell them." "I know, I know," I sigh. The printer is almost done printing, and so is this conversation. Thank God, because I just want to crawl under my bed and never come out again. "But for now, let¡¯s keep it under wraps." He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Okay, I won¡¯t spill the beans about us living together in secret. Your secret¡¯s safe with me." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Relief and gratitude wash away most of the worries when he promises me. Still, some worries remain. Some uncertainty can¡¯t be washed away, like some nasty oil that is stuck somewhere. But I remind myself that it went better than I hoped. "Thank you,¡± I tell him. The printer makes a sound, and I realize it¡¯s finally done printing. I take out the warm paper and take a last look at Jason. ¡°Really, thank you.¡± ¡°No worries, boss. Anything you say.¡± A faint blush colors my cheeks as I walk past him. For a second, I don¡¯t tell myself to control my feelings. It¡¯s not like he¡¯ll notice it anyway. That afternoon, we go, with the four of us, to a place I also haven¡¯t been. It¡¯s fancy and must be expensive. When we¡¯re all guided to our reserved table, I see why. Jessica is already at the table, waving her hand and signal for us to come over. "Girls, Jason. Welcome, and please have a seat.¡± We all sit down, and I¡¯m eager to get started. "Now, Jason,¡± Jessica says. ¡°As you know, or I hope you picked up on that, this is not just any lunch. Normally we don¡¯t do this, but since it¡¯s your first official day and yesterday was more like an introduction, I welcome you to our small team of literature agents. You¡¯re already learning the ropes of the trade, I heard.¡± She looks over to me. "Thank you, Jessica. I feel honored, truly,¡± he smiles. ¡°And yes, I guess someone was already gossiping about me.¡± He glances quickly at me before turning back to Jessica. ¡°In all honesty, I¡¯m very happy with my mentor. She teaches me well.¡± I see Ava and Isabella exchange a glance before returning their attention back to Jason. ¡°So, Jason,¡± Isabella starts. ¡°Since this is a getting-to-know-you lunch, introduce yourself to the team.¡± He officially introduces himself. His full name (Jason Victorious Hong), his age (25) and some of his interests (reading, friends, music). Since he¡¯s Korean, he had to do military service for about 2 years, but he can now relax. In the meantime, the food arrived, and we¡¯re all eating and listening to Jason tell his life story. It makes me realize that I don¡¯t know Jason that well. It also makes me feel a bit guilty. I didn¡¯t even ask. Granted, he arrived yesterday, but still, I could¡¯ve asked. "And now? Where do you live now?¡± I zoned out for a second, so the question comes as a surprise. I look up from my plate; Jessica¡¯s the one who asked the, in my opinion, unimportant question. Anxiety bubbles up, hoping and praying that he remembers my plea and follows up on his promise. "Ah, well, funny story, actually,¡± he starts, and my anxiety triples. I feel a bit nauseous as I take a sip of water. ¡°As of yesterday, I officially moved into a shared house. Before I started working yesterday, I was living in a hotel for the time being. I actually arrived last week, so I¡¯m still getting used to things, to be honest.¡± He runs his fingers through his hair, perhaps a nervous tick. But then again, why is he nervous? I should be nervous, which I am. A lot. Why did he say he lived in a shared house? Next question: How are your housemates? 100%. "Oh, just last week? That¡¯s quite recent, actually.¡± Isabella mentions. "Yeah, but I¡¯m settling in quite nicely. Also, my housemates are amazing.¡± He sips his drink, and his eyes glance down at me for a second before setting down his glass again. ¡°When I¡¯ve acquired some more income, I¡¯ll move, but for now, it¡¯s nice.¡± It seems like the girls are satisfied with his answer as they continue with their conversation, and I¡¯m happy to join it again now that the main topic isn¡¯t my housemate anymore. Anything to change the topic to something normal and ordinary. When we return to the office, I wait until everyone is off the elevator before I run after Jessica. ¡°Jessica, do you have a moment?¡± "Yes, of course. What is it?¡± Walking towards her office, I tell her about Mr. Miller and how he keeps asking me to do simple things¡ªthings that are not my job. I show her the printed paper as well, pinpointing where my problems occur. "Right¡­ How long has he been doing this?¡± "Ever since I got him as a client from you.¡± "Hmm,¡± Jessica thinks. ¡°Thank you for letting me know. And don¡¯t worry; I fully agree with you. Although being an ''older'' client comes with some perks, he shouldn¡¯t abuse his power to have you do things that are not in your job description. I¡¯m sure you have better things to do.¡± She walks into her office and gestures for me to come in too. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll give him a call. Now,¡± She clasps her hands together. ¡°What are your thoughts about Jason?¡± I don¡¯t see this question coming, so for a second, I don¡¯t know what to say. What does she want to hear? That he¡¯s living in my house, our house now? That he¡¯s cute? That he¡¯s totally my type? "How is he doing on the team?¡± She asks again, a look on her face. "Ah, right.¡± Of course, she wants to hear about his job progression. ¡°Well, he¡¯s very hardworking. He asks a lot of questions, but they¡¯re all good questions, so I don¡¯t mind it.¡± I think back on what he said yesterday evening: that he wants to start this notebook to help him keep track of things. ¡°He also showed me some work today that he did yesterday evening, he said. It¡¯s a notebook where he writes down what he learned that day. I think that¡¯s good and an example of him being hardworking.¡± "Good, good,¡± Jessica hums. ¡°Do you think he¡¯s a good fit for the team?¡± I think about it for a second. I remember all the times I wasn¡¯t a good fit for the team, or so they¡¯ve said. ¡°Yeah, I think so. Of course, it''s too early to say anything about it, but he¡¯s doing really well. He¡¯s getting us coffee, for example, and is trying to bond with the team. He¡¯s doing well.¡± That evening, when I came home, Jason had gone home earlier, so I arrived at a house that smelled like chicken. Warm, crispy, and juicy chicken. I hear laughter coming from the kitchen, and I quickly take off my shoes, coat, and bag. I come out of the hallway, into the kitchen, and see Sam and Jason cooking together. For a second, I¡¯m stunned, and I don¡¯t believe my eyes. While it¡¯s still weird to see Jason in my kitchen with my apron, it¡¯s even weirder to see Sam in the kitchen at all. ¡°Hello, this looks cozy.¡± Sam turns around with a big smile. ¡°Yup, we made chicken together. Isn¡¯t that nice?¡± Her headache seems to be completely over, and I have a feeling this is her way of trying to make up for the way she behaved yesterday. Or not, but I¡¯d like to think that way. ¡°Sure, it''s nice to come home to a home-cooked meal made by my sister and coworker." Jason laughs. ¡°Jessica gave me a compliment today, and I have a feeling it has something to do with my mentor, so I wanted to thank you. Sam wanted to help me out, so here we are.¡± He goes to the cupboard. ¡°Let me set the table in the living room.¡± He grabs a few plates and walks to the living room. Clutter fills the house as Sam stirs the pot with what seems to be some sauce. "How was today?¡± She asks. "Good. Why?¡± "True, but then again, you¡¯ve never had a male coworker work with you and live together with you.¡± I laugh. ¡°And why¡¯s that important to you?¡± I feel annoyance simmering underneath my skin. Her face contorts as if she¡¯s smelling something bad. ¡°It¡¯s not. I have known you longer than just today. I¡¯ve seen the look you give him.¡± Despite her harsh words, I blush, but I try to keep it at bay. ¡°Geez, relax.¡± I say it a bit too loud. "There¡¯s nothing happening. Neither of us wants anything, anyway.¡± "Good. You can have anyone, but don¡¯t start anything with the guy we¡¯re living with.¡± "Okay, whatever. Says the girl who came home drop-dead drunk yesterday.¡± The moment the words leave my mouth, I already regret them. I¡¯m the older sister, so I should hold my tongue, always keep the peace, and don¡¯t lash out. Sam¡¯s eyes glisten, either from withholding tears or controlling anger. I want to apologize, but then Jason comes back from the living room. ¡°So, everything is set. Let¡¯s eat!" Chapter 4 - Jason It¡¯s been a few weeks now since I moved into the house of the two sisters, and so far, it¡¯s been great. Sam is nice and almost feels like a little sister to me, with her occasional tantrums and outbursts. In the beginning, I could feel she was a bit skeptical (who wouldn¡¯t be of a total stranger), but she¡¯s starting to warm up to me. I¡¯m glad because something in me tells me that if Sam still didn¡¯t like me, Melody would¡¯ve called the landlord already to kick me out. Talking about Melody, she¡¯s a bit more difficult to read, but she too seems to have eased a bit, compared to the first evening I moved in here. And then there was that evening¡¯s conversation Sam had with Melody. I really tried not to listen in, tried to block it out, but I was too curious. Too curious to see or hear what Melody was thinking. Like I said, Melody is truly like a closed book. It¡¯s not that she¡¯s rude or unkind to me; I don¡¯t think she can even be unkind, but she¡¯s always been polite, distancing herself when she looked at me too much, removing herself from the situation when I looked at her too much, which is not a great habit of mine. But then again, she¡¯s fascinating to look at. I always wonder what she¡¯s thinking. And today, my self-control just gave in. After weeks of guessing her gazes, her thoughts, the opportunity was too easy, too great not to take. So, I listened in. Her saying to her sister that ¡°nothing is happening¡± and ¡°neither of us wants to start anything¡± was not the answer I had hoped for. Then again, Melody seems to really love her sister and wants whatever is best for her. Not getting into anything with anyone just because her sister says so seems to be something Melody would do. I look at her. She¡¯s sitting across from me, cross-legged again, and with her phone in her hand. Her face is unreadable, most likely thinking about Sam and their conversation as well if the nervous biting on her bottom lip is any indication. I wasn¡¯t sure if they made up yet, but so far, the air in the room has been tense whenever Melody and Sam are in the same room together. I¡¯d hoped that I could ease the tension a bit, but I had no luck yet. Suddenly, Melody catches me looking and raises an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± I say quickly. ¡°Just replaying lunch with the team. Your face was funny,¡± I say something random, hoping to ease the tension in her eyebrows. Jessica asked me where I was living, and I¡¯ve never seen Melody so scared and anxious, even though I had promised not to tell anyone anything. ¡°That¡¯s not funny. I was really nervous, though,¡± she sulks, putting down her phone. ¡°Why?¡± I now also put down my phone. ¡°That I would rat you out?¡± She shrugs. ¡°Yeah, you easily could¡¯ve.¡± ¡°Nah,¡± I say. ¡°I don¡¯t do drama, and besides, I already promised you that I wouldn¡¯t say anything.¡± We look at each other, and a silence falls. Sam went to bed, or at least went upstairs to avoid her sister, so it¡¯s just me and Melody. She puts on some jazzy music, but the music fades into the background, as everything always does whenever I look at her for too long. ¡°Well,¡± Melody says. ¡°I thank you for that. It¡¯s nice to have someone who isn¡¯t about drama for once.¡± The sentence holds too much weight to be said so casually. I still wonder what happened to her family. I sometimes wonder why she doesn¡¯t see her parents. I wonder why she treats Sam as her daughter sometimes. I wonder why a young person like her is living with her sister in a cheap house, despite the work paying well. And then I wonder how she keeps herself standing. She must be in an even more difficult situation than I can imagine. But I know better than to ask. If she doesn¡¯t tell me herself, it¡¯s not my business, no matter how curious I am. Again, she catches me looking, and I smile at her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t tell anyone a thing. I promised, didn¡¯t I?¡± She smiles too, as she lets air out of her mouth. ¡°Yeah, you did.¡± Melody goes to bed early that evening. Removing herself from the situation again, and the urge to stop her gets stronger, but again, I don¡¯t act on it. She clearly has been through something. Something that¡¯s bad enough to ward off any men in the form of the self-inflicted dating ban. So, I wish her good night and wait until the bathroom is quiet again, and then wait some more until I hear her bedroom door close before I make my way upstairs. I¡¯m scrolling on my phone for a bit, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that late (it¡¯s 2 a.m.) when I hear some sound coming from Melody¡¯s bedroom. A few days ago, I heard it too. At first, I couldn¡¯t place it, but then I realized she was murmuring and crying in her sleep. I never went in there; entering a housemate¡¯s bedroom is off-limits, and she always calmed down herself. However, this time it¡¯s different. It¡¯s been ten minutes already, and she doesn¡¯t seem to calm down. If anything, it sounds as if it¡¯s getting worse. They always say never to wake a sleeping person, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s sleeping anymore. Before I can think twice about it, my body moves. I open my door and make my way to Melody¡¯s bedroom. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Before I can go back again, I raise my hand and knock. ¡°Melody? Are you okay?¡± The crying hasn¡¯t stopped, and only seems to have gotten worse. I look at Sam¡¯s bedroom door. No sounds from there. Seems like she¡¯s so used to her sister having nightmares that she doesn¡¯t even wake up anymore. ¡°Melody?¡± I ask again. I didn¡¯t really have a plan to begin with, but her not responding to me isn¡¯t something I expected. I feel stupid waiting outside her bedroom, waiting for her to calm down, hoping she calms down. She doesn¡¯t. Next thing I know, I hear her thrash and cry and cry out for help. Opening the door, I realize I don¡¯t know her room layout, and her room is pitch black. Turning on the light in the hallway, and keeping the door open, however, does the trick. I rush towards her, as I see tears on her face. Fear spikes in me, hoping nothing is seriously wrong, like a medical emergency. ¡°Melody,¡± I speak clearly, my voice not too loud to scare her, but not too soft for her not to hear. She continues to thrash and cry, although her crying is less now. ¡°Melody¡­¡± I say, as I softly grab her shoulder that is closest to me, trying to wake her up. She doesn¡¯t wake up calmly. Instead, she sits up suddenly. Her eyes red from the tears, her hair a mess, and I feel a tinge of sympathy in my stomach. Feeling sorry for her, although I still don¡¯t know exactly what happened, I do know it¡¯s bad. She sniffles as new tears form in her eyes. New tears, but this time of relief. She collapses against my shoulder. I feel the warmth of her skin and the softness of her hair as I try to console her the best I can. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I say. ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright.¡± I stroke her hair, feeling out of place to do so. It¡¯s been some weeks, but I still feel awkward, cursing at myself for going into her room in the first place. Sure, she was crying and feeling miserable, but now she thinks I¡¯m a creep. I shouldn¡¯t be here. Shame comes over me as I force myself to gently push her away, hoping she doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m weird. I look at her face, and I catch the moment Melody realizes it¡¯s me. Her eyes go a bit bigger, and the guarded look is back. ¡°Sorry¡­ Did I wake you?¡± She asks, turning her gaze down to the blankets. Light from the hallway falls into the room, and I can see the tiniest hint of a blush forming on her cheeks. ¡°No, I was still awake. I-.¡± I hesitate before continuing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I was awake, and I heard you, and I thought something had happened, so I came to check up on you, but now I feel like I shouldn¡¯t have?¡± The words fall out before I can stop them, the sentence being said as one word. For a second, she looks confused, trying to string the words into a proper sentence, and then a small smile. Relief washes over me when I see the corners of her mouth turning upwards. I¡¯m not sure what she finds funny, but a smile is better than tears or fear, so for now, I¡¯ll take it. Then, doubt creeps back into her eyes. ¡°You came to check up on me?¡± I blink. ¡°Yeah, I thought maybe you were hurt¡­ or something.¡± It sounds like a lame excuse. ¡°I¡¯ll get-,¡± I gather my thoughts. ¡°Should I get you some water?¡± When she doesn¡¯t protest, I don¡¯t wait a second longer. I stand up and walk to the bathroom. As softly as I can, I take the cup from the bathroom and fill it up. It is then that I look at myself in the mirror and try to calm down. She doesn¡¯t seem horrified to see me, or disgusted or weirded out or anything negative. When the cup is full, and I¡¯ve convinced myself to relax a bit more, I come into her bedroom again. Melody is now lying down but sits up when she sees me entering. I hand the cup to her. ¡°Here you go¡­¡± She takes it, and I notice her hands are less shaky, her posture more guarded again. When she finishes it, she puts the cup down and sighs. ¡°Sorry for waking you and thanks for the water.¡± I smile. ¡°No worries. Try to sleep some more, okay? You¡¯ll have to wake up at 7 again. For your running,¡± I quickly add. A small but genuine smile appears on her lips. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll try not to wake you up again.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± I give her a small wink. ¡°I¡¯ll happily get you some water if that happens again.¡± She smiles at me, a shy smile. My heart is happy and jumps up from glee. When I leave the room, I don¡¯t feel like an idiot anymore. I feel like I helped her. At least, that¡¯s what I hope. When I''m in the hallway, I still don¡¯t hear a sound coming from Sam¡¯s bedroom. Luckily, she didn¡¯t wake up or seem to have heard anything. I tiptoe back to my room, but it¡¯s a while before I finally fall asleep. That morning, I wake up to the sound of the shower being turned on. I groggily look at my phone to see what time it is, and I see it¡¯s 7:45 a.m. ¡°She¡¯s right on time¡­¡± I mutter. I get out of bed, get dressed, and the moment I walk out of my room, at the same time Melody comes out of the bathroom. Fully dressed but with a towel on her still wet hair. ¡°Good morning,¡± I say. She looks up, having not noticed me, and a hint of a small blush appears on her cheeks. I think she¡¯s the most beautiful I have ever seen. ¡°Hey, good morning,¡± she says. ¡°How was the run this morning?¡± I¡¯m not sure why I¡¯m making small talk. It¡¯s not like we have all the time in the world. In fact, I feel like I¡¯m a bit late. ¡°It was good and refreshing, as always,¡± she smiles but bites her lips, seemingly nervous. ¡°Also, I wanted to thank you for last night. I¡¯m sorry for making you feel awkward, but you really helped me. I slept great after that.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome, and for the record, I wasn¡¯t that awkward, right?¡± She now laughs. ¡°You definitely were. But it¡¯s fine. It made me feel less awkward.¡± Her eyes sparkle, and I feel my own cheeks heat up for once. I cough. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad. I didn¡¯t mind it one bit.¡± Melody wants to say something to that, probably apologize again, but is interrupted by an annoyed Sam. ¡°Can you guys not talk so much in front of my literal door? It¡¯s too early for a tea ceremony.¡± Melody seems thrown off, and her frown comes back. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. You had to get up anyways.¡± And then to me: ¡°The bathroom is free if you want. I¡¯m going to make some breakfast. Be ready in 10 minutes.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± I say before making it to the bathroom. Sam groans and shuts her door again. I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. My pink cheeks are uncommon for me, and my pupils are too big. I sigh, turn the water on at the faucet, and cool my face down with cold water.