Chapter- 11

"What are you suggesting?"

Ryan stands his ground, and he stands tall, his voice erupting with conviction. He brings his truth to the room, "Profile pictures should not be a necessity. Instead, we should conduct confidential background checks on users, just of their relevant information, to verify their real identities. Only the most trustworthy LOVESICK employees should handle this process to ensure proper verification."

The older man arches his brow, intrigued, "And how exactly will this benefit us?"

"Pardon me, but this is not about us, it has never been," Ryan inhales deeply, his heart racing…from the depths of his soul, "It is about love. It has always been about love. Love is too sacred to be reduced to a mere physical appearance. We cannot compromise on love. Not now, not ever."

"Hmm," the ravenette gentleman scoots forward, eyes flashing with curiosity, "Without profile pictures, how will they match, though?"

The brunette youth looks thoughtful, his gaze distant— he had always, and he, now, too, is envisioning love in its purest form. "We can match people based on their vibes. We can cluster people according to their interests, opinions, likes, dislikes and everything else that defines them. Let us allow them to interact first. If their vibes match then, if they feel a connection, they can approve each other, and only then share photos if they are comfortable enough. But of course, with security. No screenshots shall be allowed or they may face certain consequences.

Also, not everyone feels comfortable sharing their pictures or facetiming with a complete stranger online, even if they are real. It is not always that they are fake just because of that."

Ethan nods leisurely, "It is an interesting concept, it is indeed. But, do you think it will work?"

"It will. Please put your faith in me," Ryan's eyes sparkle with determination, "Oh, it will work! When it comes to love, once you have fallen for someone's vibes, there is no turning back. Physical appearances may hide behind a mask of lies, or may fade with time, but vibes, they never lie. Vibes are what truly define us, and we must believe in them."

Ethan cannot help but remark, "You do realise that what you're proposing is, in many ways, revolutionary? It may change how people fall in love, entirely."

"I am well aware," Ryan meets his boss's relaying gaze, "And that is exactly why those who may not consider themselves as physically attractive deserve to know that they are cherished too. It has been too late already. Now, let's choose love for the person rather than simply depending on their looks."

Ethan can not believe it either, he is considering the words, more he is 'contemplating' the words of his personal assistant— in an age, where swiping left or right on a picture has become the norm, Ryan's idea seems to be a breath of fresh air. Looking beyond the surface, and discovering the person's true character; this is the essence of what true love really feels like…

"Mr. Miller, we are treading on thin ice here. Your revolutionary idea may or may not be a risky move. And I'm not sure yet if I'm willing to take the risk," Ethan murmurs, "I think we both need to take a break. Your incessant ramblings about love have left me feeling a bit nauseated. Excuse me."

Ryan bows his head regretfully, feeling abashed of how passionately he had spoken. "I'm sorry," he apologises, "I did warn you that I will be speaking my mind."

Ethan sweeps a glance at his wrist watch, "What will you do now, Mr. Miller? Brainstorm more ideas?"

"Nah," the brunette clicks his tongue, "I will do that at home, I promise, when I am not being supervised, my mind is more creative. If my tummy is full and I have slept well, I usually work better, very well in fact."

"What about now?"

Ryan hunches his puny shoulders, looking at his feet, "If I am being honest, I don't know either."

"Do you have anything to focus on right now, Mr. Miller?"

Ryan shakes his head a no, "No, my schedule is free if you aren't heaping anything anymore," his eyes wandering aimlessly, "I am as free as a bird out of a cage."

"Then, let me take you out for brunch."

In that moment, Ryan wishes he could take back the words that had so foolishly escaped his lips. He had made the grave mistake of telling his boss that he is free, a mistake that never seems to end well— one should definitely never tell anyone they are free, no matter what. Ethan extends the invitation for brunch, Ryan's regret hangs heavy.

Howbeit, beads of sweat begin to form on his throat, Ryan tries to reason with the CEO, "Sir, we have a lot to do," he staggers, "I mean…LOVESICK has a lot to do…you don't really have time fo–"

But Ethan is having none of it. Rising to his feet, he cuts his assistant off mid-sentence, "I don't take no for an answer, Mr. Miller," he narrates, "And don't mistake that I am beseeching or inviting your choice to come with me. As your boss, it's my order. You are coming with me!"

Ryan frowns, unsure of how to react, "What kind of order is this?" He asks incredulously, "Please…you don't really have to…"

But Ethan is not budging, "Are you seriously countering your boss right now, Mr. Miller?" He aims back, his groan growing sterner by the second.

In the end, it always boils down to Ryan accepting his fate— the brunette knows he could not refuse, not with the CEO holding all the power in this situation. "Fine," he relents, "But only in one condition."

"Shoot."

"I get to choose the place to eat," Ryan asserts, knowing that this was at least one small way he could try to exert some control.

Ethan pauses, hesitating, "Fair enough," he eventually concedes, fastening it with a nod, "Fine by me."

Ryan raises another condition, however, making it clear that he was not without his own stipulations. "Also…" he begins, "I feel sick in closed vehicles, for example, cars, so…"

Although the vigilant CEO is quick to dismiss this second request, "I have a scooter," he lets it be known, "Fine?"

Ryan is not going to give in so easily either, "I get to drive," he pushes, his mischievous smile betraying his satisfaction at pushing back against the most dreaded boss.

"Are you done with your 'one condition'?" He asks, the air quotes around the final two words, indicating a scepticism, "Or can we leave now?"

Cheekily, Ryan grins back at him, clearly enjoying the thrill of this small victory. "Yeah, yeah," and leads the way towards an exit.

With feeble fingers, Ryan eagerly reaches out to take the keys from his boss's outstretched hand, once Ethan has finished fishing for it— as Ryan hops, and starts up the scooter, he cannot help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Being in control of a vehicle is one thing, but doing so with someone else at the back is another matter entirely.

"Um, sir?" Ryan calls out over his shoulder, "I'm not too confident in driving when someone else is sitting at the back. I am constantly anxious that the other person has fallen off."

Ethan grunts, clearly not happy with this revelation, "What do you want me to do, then?" Frustration is creeping into his voice.

Ethan's assistant speaks tentatively, "Well…I suppose if you could hug my waist, just for security, that- that might help."

Ethan blinks…momentarily, eyes in a nervous whirl, "Okay…"

And with that, Ethan necklace his arms around Ryan's waist, holding on tightly. Ryan revs up the scooter and eases it into motion. As they zoom through the streets, Ryan feels a strange sense of comfort…something entirely new. Maybe, this was not going to be such a bad day after all.

-

After a lot of swaps of scenery, past a myriad of landscapes, Ryan feels a sense of wonder. The lush green and the grey of the buildings seem to blend seamlessly together, cooking the perfect canvases for the sensation of being alive.

Finally, Ryan pulls up in front of what appears to be a rather unassuming beanery. The wooden doors and windows are chipping with paints, making the place look rather mediocre— because it is. Ryan braces himself for disappointment, knowing that his boss Ethan Smith probably expected a much more exquisite establishment.

"I know this may not be–"

"Thank you," Ethan says simply, off of the vehicle, "Thank you for bringing me here."

Maybe…it is not such a mediocre place after all, if it could elicit such a genuine expression of gratitude from Mr. Haughty, of all people— everyone knows to not judge a book by its cover, but how many follow?

Ethan smiles— Ethan…smiles…again? Life is really full of surprises, isn't it?"

"Well, then, let's get inside," the younger of the two proffers, with a casual ease that belies the excitement of what's to come, "This is a night restaurant, by the way, closing up shop around 9 a.m. However, patrons tend to linger until the wee hours of the morning— sometimes as late as 11 a.m. Rest assured, they are very hygienic. But…as for our entry, we'll need to employ a sneaky approach and slip in through a discreet back entrance."

"What?!" Intrigued by this unorthodox peculiar entrance to this unassuming eatery— what surprises lay in store, behind its colourful, understated facade.

Without hesitation, Ryan takes charge, claiming his boss by the wrist, towards the very back of the structure.

"Watch closely," Ryan advises, before nimbly synchronising his steps with unaligned bricks, up the wall, and over to the other side. "Now it's your turn. I'll lend a hand to guide you." Mr. Haughty shakes his head, bemused by the unexpected turn of events. Once he had surveyed the area for any potential danger, Ryan motions his boss to accept the help.

Carefully navigating, Ryan ushers the older man to the top.

"Here, take my hand and come with me. Be fast," speaking in a shushed approach, extends his right hand, ready to assist the CEO in their synchronised descent. "Careful now– safety first."

Feeling the weight of apprehension that always seems to settle on his shoulders, his immediate instincts are negative. But a thrill of excitement, a long forgotten longing for unbridled adventure, starts to take hold of him completely— he reaches to accept his assistant's hand. Ethan's knuckles pale with each ascent, feeling his fingers slip on the rough surface of the wall.

Then, without warning, disaster strikes— a sharp gasp escaping Ethan's lips, colliding with Ryan, their bodies entangled as they tumble uncontrollably onto the other side. The echo of their massive fall reverberates through the hasty morning air, the thud of their wind making them wince in pain; Ethan is reclining on the ground, the younger man hovering over the former.

A commotion from inside the building interrupts their thoughts. They turn to look, startled to see rambunctious guests, who hurriedly approach the two men with wide-eyed curiosity. Ethan Smith's status as a sought-after CEO and highly eligible bachelor makes him an instant celebrity magnet, making everything worse— a fact that the mob quickly seizes upon, clamouring for autographs, and asking for selfies or live streams.

"Oh no…" Ethan hisses under his breath, the sudden cacophony of noise leaving him and his assistant in the state of unasked bewilderment. The shock of their unanticipated journey left them both reeling, struggling to make sense of the chaos that is unfolding surrounding them.

"Hey, aren't you the son of Mr. Smith?" Someone shouts within the throng, "The most successful founder so far? Is it true that something is going on between you and this guy?"

Ryan feels the rush of embarrassment like never before, an uncomfortable heat that makes him feel impossibly small. The invasion of both his and his boss's privacy is too much to bear, and he finds himself rendered speechless, too mortified to argue.

But Ethan is not letting this intrusion slip away, at least not without a fight— shoving Ryan aside rudely, he snatches for his own mask and sunglasses, doing everything he can, to shield himself from view. The merciless flash of cameras and desperate cries of fans breezing like a whirlwind, but he remains doggedly determined to block the chaos.

Ryan, on the other hand, remains in a daze, unable to analyse the overwhelming sequence of events that had brought them to this level of madness. He had never felt so demoralised or helpless in his life, but he swiftly finds his voice, channelling all of his pent-up emotions into a single roar.

"STOP IT!" Ryan thunders, his voice boisterous and commanding, "No cameras, no autographs, and definitely no live streams. We need to continue with our day, and so do you. Please, don't bother us any longer!"

The crowd is subdued for at best, a split second— unfortunately, that is their best. Their fervour is unrelenting, eager to snap a picture of the considered celebrity. "Of course, we are going to take pictures!" They shouts back, voices rising in a fever pitch of excitement.

"It's a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence." "You're so handsome, Ethan Smith, I've been dreaming of meeting you." "I always fantasise about you, Mr. CEO." "Ethan, you are single, right? Please say you are!!" — are few bubbling through.

The chaos continues to ensue, the crowd thronging around them like locusts. But will that deter Ryan? No. He spreads his arms wide, sideways, to prevent the crowd from advancing any further.

"Don't make me involve the police!!" He warns, but the centre of attraction, Ethan, knows all too well that words, even threatening ones, are no match for the frenzied hordes of fans. Moving with a rapid certainty, the ravenette dons his mask, and sunglasses, and without missing a beat, sprints away with Ryan, unwilling to let those intruders get any closer than they already had.

"Don't worry. I will not let anything happen to me," speaks Ethan coolly, his eyes scanning their surroundings for a means of concealment. Catching sight of a portable closet, he swiftly guides Ryan towards it before locking them both inside.

Ryan's heart skips a beat…a reaction he cannot quite explain.

The raven-haired man wastes no time in taking charge, "I will get the security. You can trust me," he connects with the emergency line. This time, he vows not to let the call be disconnected, or entertain any stupid hindrance.

With rock hard objective, Ethan relays the details of their predicament to the operator. "We are trapped in The Raven's Meal. Please, dispatch your force to our location. Make sure the media does not get involved in ANY WAY," he commands. As the operator confirms the directions, Ethan turns to his PA, seeking confirmation, "The Raven's Meal, yes. Take the left from that alleway. Yes, a small pale blue building. Yes, be fast please!"

With the call successfully made, Ethan breathes voluntarily…even if it is just for a moment…

"Sir?"

Ethan Smith stands calmly amidst the pandemonium. "Hm?"

"I have a question," the brunette's mind is in utter disarray.

"What is it?" The superior inquires.

"Sir, your security team is on speed-dial. If you could have reached your security team so easily, why did we have to resort to emergency services while we were trapped in the elevator?" Ryan asks, trying to make sense of the situation.

Ethan's reply, however, is brusque, "You fool!" He curses, hush-hush, not wanting to stir up any more commotion than there already is, "Why are you asking such a ridiculous question? The security team, of course, is not trained to handle medical emergencies or evacuation. They wouldn't have been able to do anything for us."

"I understand that. That is not what I meant," Ryan elaborates his preceding words, "But couldn't you have asked the security to contact emergency services on our behalf?"

"No. That wouldn't have worked either. If the securities were so audacious to not reciprocate when the owner himself called, what makes you think that they would have listened to the security?"

"Hmm…" Ryan stands, supported against the wall of the closet, "You know…back in the elevator, even though I was trying to be courageous, I was very, very scared. The fear of unknown grappled me, and the uncertainty of the future only intensified," trying to process everything, "People don't usually pass out that quickly or easily," he muses aloud, "Like the way I did. I saw you, you were having rugged breathings too. But, you were only trying to hold yourself together, to fight against fate."

Ethan's eyes flash with anger, "Yes, thank you for reminding me," he sardonically chides, "But, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, it just seems like something more was going on," It is undoubtedly not Ryan's best decision to tell his boss about his hunches, but at least it is not the worst either, "If you were able to contact 911 so easily earlier, doesn't that mean the network was not really an issue?"

The raven-haired man bristles, "Can't you see that I'm finally feeling calm and composed?" He snaps, "Must you ruin it?"

Ryan is exasperated, "But there are people outside, battering incessantly on the doors. It's also too dark. How can you possibly feel at peace?"

Ethan nonchalantly hums as an answer. "Whatever is happening, is happening beneath the doors, outside the closet. The commotion, the crowd, whatever…" he states matter-of-factly. "But in this closet, I feel nothing but tranquillity…"

"But–"

"Shh," the raven-haired silences Ryan, with a finger to the lips. And with the other, disengaged palm he brushes softly on his assistant's eyes, reckoning them closed. . .

Ethan plucks something, from the younger's floccose cheeks, "Open your eyes, Ryan."

Ryan, inchmeal, parts his lids and stares at his boss, holding yet another eyelash, "You–"

"Shh," carefully, taking Ryan's left hand in his own, the CEO places the lash on its dorsal surface, "Make your wish…"