Chapter- 07 (Day 1)

Ryan had only tossed and turned the previous night, mind racing with the anticipation of what lay ahead— barely getting any sleep at all.

By the time he had returned, Ryan had lost his appetite, thus neither did he bother nor was he keen on treating himself to any proper meal; Lillian's skillful preparations were long forgotten, forsaken even. 

Ryan retired to his bed as soon as he had got shut off of his mocha hued blazer, and its complimentary trousers— everyone other than his step father had gone to bed, the clock said 7.30 p.m. 

When Mr. Miller had tried to approach his son, Ryan dissolved all of the inquiries of his elder, putting it away to be dealt with some other time, when Ryan would feel the need to participate, actively, in their conversation— and with an empty stomach he headed to bed, curling into a ball beside his passed out brother Lilian, trying to catch some sleep…to no avail. 

Now, the dreadful day had arrived— Ryan blinks his eyes at the blaring alarm clock that incessantly begins to ring at seven o'clock in the morning. Ryan had always been a late riser, and he was not willing to change it, trading with anything in exchange. 

He pushes himself off the bed and stifles a huge yawn. "Lilian, are you awake? I need your help getting ready," he speaks, still being under the influence of a deep slumber.

"Mhmm," Lilian hums, half awake. 

"Come on, wake up! I need to borrow one of your crisply ironed shirts. Mine are all too wrinkled, they give off an appearance of being sluggish," Ryan again sinks into the butter like soft white sheets, hugging his knees, "Let me borrow your tuxedo too, come on Lilian, wake up! Or else I will be late."

Lilian partially opens his eyes, his vision a blur, "You go take a shower. I will arrange for your clothes, don't worry," he persistently murmurs words that are incoherent to the elder one.

"What?" Ryan brings his ear closer, to get a better understanding about whatever Lilian is saying. 

"Shower shower!! Go and take a shower. You reek of sweat," Lilian complains, rubbing his eyes and doing his morning stretches, lying on his back. 

"Oh alright," Ryan slides his feet into the crappy, moth-eaten slippers, "But don't forget to let me borrow your belongings. Please, Lilian," he beseeches, then obtaining the nod from his sibling he had been pestering for.

Following, Ryan steps out of the room, hunting for a towel to steer his day forward, when something odd that Ryan had completely forgotten about catches his eyes— the white box Ethan had provided him with a day prior. 

Ryan picks up the box and examines it, "What could it be? Let me take a guess! Another of my boss's heap of assignments? So that he can be sure I wouldn't be lethargic since I would be intrigued to find out the 'enigma', he planned something this much petty?" An air of derision envelopes the brunette, he keeps speaking to himself, "Let's just see," without further predictions, Ryan unbolts a tiny latch at the bottom of the thermocol, revealing its contents— two butter croissants, chocolate muffins and a can of banana smoothie.

Why would his boss, the haughty Ethan Smith, who never really seemed to care about anyone else's well being, other than his own go through take up an imperative of treating his personal assistant to desserts? Words deceive Ryan, he parts his lips to utter something, but nothing emerges.

Ryan's heart races, and his mind swirls with curiosity, he wonders what could have possibly prompted Ethan to perform this act of kindness, "I am not imagining things, am I?" He sits at the table, his hands grabbing at a yellow coloured note peeking from the gap between two croissants, and he rips it open eagerly to know what is inside. 

"Mr. Miller, as I believe in give and take, here is what I give you for what I have taken aka your services. Don't get too full of yourself. Enjoy. 

-Ethan Smith."

Ryan folds the paper neatly, putting it aside, "I hope these are not poisoned," Ryan bends over inhaling in the kind of yeasty aroma emanating, "Doesn't seem so. Now I know if Mr. Haughty used some pristine variety of poison," he sniffs a few more times until he decides they are safe to consume. 

"Nevermind, they really don't look like they could be poisoned," Ryan picks up a muffin, and relishes it with ease, "Thank you I guess," he mumbles to himself. 

Ryan takes another bite from the delectable muffins, savouring the sweet, buttery flavours that exploded in his mouth. Chocolate muffins were not Ryan's favourite, nonetheless he is enjoying the chocolate bursting in his mouth, topped with a crumbly streusel topping. 

As much as Ryan hates to buy it, he is grateful to have a warm meal to kick off his day. He reaches from one of the butter croissants, when suddenly he hears his step mother calling his name. 

"Ryan? Good morning!" Ryan seals the part of his lips in a trice, turning towards the speaker, "Ryan, I noticed that you woke up so early today? So I made you some chicken wraps for breakfast. Would you have it now or later?"

Ryan's heart sinks a little, he knows the woman means well, "Oh, auntie…thank you but you really did not have to," he says smiling sheepishly. 

"Oh? Why is that, Ryan? You don't like my cooking?" Mrs. Lyra Miller wisecracks, "Nonsense, I really wanted to. After all, my little sweetheart woke up so early today."

"That's not what I meant, you know it," Ryan casts his eyes down, "Er…I actually already had my breakfast."

With a mellow chuckle, Lyra pets the brunette strands, "I know, I can see that. Don't worry, dear. I will put these chicken wraps inside the refrigerator. After you come back, I will reheat them for you," she says with a smile. 

"Thank you so much," Ryan beams. "You do like desserts. These are very delicious. You can definitely try them."

"Sure, I will," Lyra puts the tray containing chicken wraps aside, "But if I may have the honour of knowing where are you even going?"

"To work, auntie."

"Work?" Lyra flashes a proud countenance, "So my little son really did grow up now. Enough teasing, why didn't you tell me earlier?" She can barely contain her delight. 

"Well I wanted to, but things were really uncertain," Ryan folds his pair of lips, "So many things were uncertain. Even now, this period is just a short term, temporary one. My boss wants me to work for him for one month and then he will declare his final decision regarding hiring me permanently."

"Woah! That's some weird strict manager you have earned yourself."

"Stop joking," Ryan finishes gulping the smoothie and returns, "This is really nothing funny."

"Okay, okay, Your Honour," Lyra thumbs against the floccose cheeks of Ryan's, moving them in circles, "Where are you working? And who are you working for?"

Ryan softens with those words, and pulls Lyra in an embrace, "I hope now you can be really proud of me. I have acquired a job at the company of the most recent trend. I am recruited as the CEO's Personal Assistant."

"For a month?" Lyra bursts forth cackling, and Ryan stands without a trace of merry around his lips, furrowing the brows— thus condemning his step mother's odd behaviours, "Okay okay, I am sorry," she says, still crumbs of her guffawing lingering. "So, who is this man who recruited you as his PA?"

"The CEO of LOVESICK," Ryan clears his throat, "Mr. Haughty," he says with an eye roll, oh so disreputable. 

"Huh?" Lyra's smile flickers.

"I am the assistant of Ethan Smith."

Just an instant ago, Lyra had been over the moon with excitement for her son— which fades at the mention of Ryan's boss identity, just like how every dawn fades away in an obscurity, "Who?"

"Ethan Smith. Why?"

Ryan witnesses how Lyra's face falls, her face speaking volumes about her inner, not so expressive frenzy, "Excuse me," she says and retires into their living room with faltering steps. 

"What's wrong with her?" Ryan talks to himself, "She forgot to put this in the refrigerator too," he addresses the meat wraps and picks the tray up to put it away for later— when he stumbles, and trips across Lillian.

"Oops sorry–" Lilian catches his equilibrium and gets on his feet, "I did not think you would be coming this way."

"Hey, that's okay," Ryan forgives, "You weren't supposed to know anyway, but from now on try to take notice of your surroundings more meticulously."

"Okay, brother," the younger sibling sees Ryan storing the tray in their refrigerator, "Well, Ryan, I am keeping your office attire here. By the way, you are still reeking, so I am certain you have not taken a shower yet. I will be keeping my favourite pair of blue tuxedo paired trousers here, on this chair right here. You have the white shirt, that will be complimentary. And I have also polished your shoes, so don't forget to put them on, okay? Good luck Ryan, on your first day!!"

Ryan exhibits a smile, closing the refrigerator door, "Thank you, Lilian. Then, I will go and take a shower. I will be leaving in a few fifteen to twenty minutes. I hope my bicycle won't betray me," he claims the outfit Lilian lended him, "I promise to take proper care of these. I shall head now," he picks his pace when Lillian acts as an interval at Ryan's course of action again. 

"Uh- Ryan," Lilian calls, timidly.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Haughty's coat…"

***

Ryan is staring at Ethan. Ethan is staring at Ryan— Mr. Haughty's tuxedo floating between the two men, its corners pinched with Ryan's fingers, they are looking at each other through a large see-through hole right in the middle of the fabric. 

"I am sorry, Sir," Ryan hangs his head with guilt, "I will try my best to compensate for the damage."

Despite the presence of an high maintenance air conditioner in Ethan's office room, Ryan is sweating profusely, which could not at all slip from the ravenette's notice,

"Someone needs to be as lousy as you to even come up with such blunders," Ethan hisses, "Forget it, you would not be able to compensate for anything. You can barely have any idea about the price of this tuxedo."

"But I–"

"Stop already," Ethan sinks into his swivel, "I don't need it anymore. Besides, I have many more."

"If you say so," Ryan Identifies an unexplainable frustration being nurtured at Mr. Haughty's swelling pride, "I will put it away then."

Ethan unfolds his laptop, "So, Mr. Miller? Did you go through all the feedback and come up with any good suggestions?" 

"I didn't actually," in a grossly straightforward way, the brunette tells the truth, "I was hungry and I was nearly dozing off, so I got some sleep instead."

"Why don't you at least try to come up with stupid excuses?" The ravenette scowls, creasing his facial features, "Aren't you afraid of telling the truth?"

"Why would I be afraid of telling the truth?" Ryan swings his arms, "Shouldn't I be afraid of telling a lie and getting caught instead?"

"That is quite not true, Mr. Miller," the man's words carry an unsettling mass to each of them, "Truths and lies are time, place, person based. Where you should say what, that is to be decided according to the surrounding circumstances. You get me? You know how many idiots have gotten away just with the help of a lie?"

"What's with this sudden lecture?" Ryan thinks out loud, but he is quick enough to very definitely do nothing to defend the way he had behaved— he stands, mum.

"Forget it. Have you checked your emails last night?" His chair spindles lowly, a stark contrast to its owner's booming movements.

"Not at all."

"Brainstormed new ideas?"

"Definitely not."

And it continues…

Ryan realises why so far he has not been able to land a job anywhere. He had arrived at Ethan's mansion by nearly 9:20 a.m, whereas his boss was who customarily loved to be termed as punctual in its truest sense. Ryan had not gone through the documentation built of different critical feedback, contrary to what he promised. Ryan had not checked his email, even though Ethan mentioned him to do so. Ryan did not in the least make an effort to brainstorm ideas about how he could assist the team of LOVESICK to bring their app back on its track— Ethan was right. Ryan is incompatible…

"Sir," Ryan begins. 

"Yes?" Crossing his legs against one another, he sits.

"I know it is my fault. I know I am incompatible. Earlier I have said this and I will say it yet again," the brunette sees Ethan peering intently at him, his ears peeled, "I am nothing sort of professional. I don't follow protocols. I, Ryan Miller, only believe in whatever my heart says. So, if you really think that I would bring more harm upon LOVESICK than gains, you can get rid of me right now," he bows, "You don't have to put up with me for an entire month!"

Ryan's fingers grazes nearby Ethan's wooden lockset when his feet squirm near the door hinge— Ryan prepares to leave.

"Mr. Miller!!" Ethan slams over his desk, "Who said you can leave?"