Chapter- 05

"And I am ready to play the game, Sir!"

Ethan's body movements freezes momentarily— "You sure do have a foul mouth, don't you?"

Shifting the weights between his feet, Ryan nurses to his consternation. Necessarily, a discomfiture keeps up pace; if he is to ask for pardon, or pretend that he never said such things, he is not sure.

By the grace of Almighty, however, Ethan swerves, forbidding impractical gossips, "Anyway, take a look here!" He turns the electronic device for Ryan to be commanding a view upon it.

"What is this?" Ryan squints the pair of his eyes— before him now sits a fulgent white screen, and several bars embellished through in different colors, "Oh! Statistics?"

"Thank Heavens, you at least know what a statistic is," Ethan derides, "Of the past few years of LOVESICK'S services. Also, in that next slide, you can see the statistic for the past few months. In the next, of the past few weeks."

"And in the next, of the past few days. Then the past few hours. Then the past few minutes and seconds too, right?" Ryan hardly credits, but a man needs to have a fiendish firmness of purpose if they wishes to be like 'The Ethan Smith'.

"You are talking to your boss, Mr. Miller," that is only a friendly reminder— friendly it is, right?

"I apologize for being so rash," the younger brunette returns the electronic to whom it belongs, its original possessor, "But I really don't know what are you expecting me to do. And I am excessively hungry to think straight."

Ethan, with his left elbow sagging against the backrest, he descends to aquire more bodily comfort, "For now, only tell me what do you think of those datas?"

Is it another devious stratagem of Ethan's? Ryan indeed needs to be extremely vigilant, "Huh?" Unsure, he questions.

"Why? It's probably the simplest question I have asked you so far," Ethan chuckles, "Losen up."

"Well…what is there for me to say?" Ryan ponders, brooding quite a few times over what his response should be, before he prepares an answer, on top of that, a suitable one, "The statistics speak for themselves, I mean."

"I want to hear it from you," Ethan speaks inscrutable.

"Well, I'm not going to say anything new, since the datas, that bars and the pie chart, all reflects the stable progress and with success in itself. My opinion is very same. LOVESICK, just as the datas state, had been very successful in the past few years, since its inauguration and I believe it will continue to be so," Ryan answers— undeterred by Ryan's spared attempts to give a technical answer, he winds up again following the tracks of his purest heart.

"That is all?" Ethan raises an eyebrow.

"Apparently yes. In case you are wanting to hear particularly about something, please specify it," before his superior can attack with his stupid 'ethics' again, Ryan justifies himself, "You asked me to losen up."

Ethan nods, "The statistics do tell a lot about LOVESICK. But they of course don't tell everything," he then straightens himself, "How much do you know about the app, if I may ask?"

"I have surfed a number of browsers, including LOVESICK'S own, of course, and to my disappointment, nowhere I can find a suitable article on it," Ryan begins to fidget with his diffident fingers, "So if you are asking me about its history or anything similar, I'm afraid I won't be able to say much."

"Why the hell would I ask about my own dating app's history from a stranger?" Ethan dissolves, "I am asking your thoughts about LOVESICK."

"Oh," Ryan exclaims, "Then I must say that I am madly in love with your dating app's motto," the boy puts his forefingers up in the hollowness, and curls them to finger quote his words, "LOVESICK: 'Where sick souls are healed'"

A spiteful simper seeps from Ethan, "Do you know what that means?"

Ryan has his own explanation, but he is convinced that is not corresponding to Ethan's ideologies whatsoever— "I don't know. You tell me."

Ethan scornfully begins, "Every person who falls in love, or is in love, or finds themselves in a ravaged thing like love, are all sick! Completely sick. Their souls are sick. Their minds are sick. They are sick," the ravenette glares at Ryan, "And LOVESICK heals them. LOVESICK reinstates the long forgotten conscience in them."

"Conscience?"

"Conscience towards themselves. It kindles a self consciousness that an individual is always and shall be one's first and one's last priority," Ethan asserts, paramount, "It reminds every user that they are worthy, and not to be trampled by anyone else, even if emotionally."

"That is what you call a conscience?" Ryan reiterates, "Let me ask you from your business perspective, then. If you abhor the idea of love so much, who asks or complies you to run a dating app, of everything? Your qualifications are one of a kind. You have done your MBA from a renowned institution. You can easily do anything else if you wish to. Then why do you have to look after an app you don't understand the genuine feelings about?"

Ethan stands from his place— soon guaranteeing Ryan about his doom, or so what Ryan thinks.

"You think I want to?"

Ryan stares agape, "I don't think anything."

"This will sound like I am nagging," Ethan fishes for the lighter in his denim jacket, "Please pass me that cigeratte packet in front of you, Mr. Miller."

Obeying, Ryan provides the mediocre box of menthol cancer sticks, "Here."

Ethan, carefully films around his packet of cigarettes, and smacks the pack filter-side down on the heel of his palm rapidly, roughly about a minute, "Thank you," he greets, then pulling a cigeratte out and bearing it in between his teeth.

"Well, so?" Ryan can not help but yearn to dive deeper into Ethan's mind, "Why do you do it if you don’t desire to?"

"You see Mr. Miller, being born as the only child does put a lot of pressure on you," the elder bloke holds the filter end of his cigeratte to the lips, and puffs it by inhaling gently into his own mouth, "And to top it all off, when you're a cut-throat one."

Ryan sneaks a glance, features twisting, "I…don't get you."

"In simpler words, I am very obsessed with the thought of winning. And I will do anything it takes to defeat the person who dares to challenge me, the Ethan Smith!" He inhales deeply, allowing the smoke to 'purify' his thoughts.

"You don't mean to say you are solely looking after LOVESICK, because it was a bet or something?" Ryan catches on fast.

"That is exactly what I am meaning to say. Someone blatantly humiliated me infront of a hall filled of people saying I am incompatible! I need to get back to him, don't I?" Ethan then exhales a huge cloud of smoke in the air, upwards, "I hope you do not mind me smoking. If you do, please excuse yourself for a while."

"I don't mind," Ryan interjects, "But you sure are not very docile. I don't know who challenged you or what this whole thing is about but I only want to say that, even if it is only a business or a bet to you, please don’t demean others' incorruptible emotions or feelings."

Another extensive drag from his cigeratte— and silence scatters.

"Sir?" Ryan's heart thumps.

"Hm?"

"Did I say something…wrong?"