Chapter- 21

"You're speaking from your life, aren't you?"

It flares bright right now, memories, revived by an adrenaline that comes with defiance of Ethan's orders. Heartbreak often drives humans to brave acts; Ryan is one of them, right now at least.

"Sir," cigarette fumes from an ashtray steals into the assistant's nostrils. "Can we… revisit the site? Site for your showroom?"

"What?"

"The site. For LOVESICK's new showroom, can we revisit it?" Shouldn't he be fumbling for words? Trying to piece so that his boss doesn't get offended— why, then, is he finding himself through a mosaic of ferocity?

His assistant's words aren't making much sense, or even if they are, Ethan is very sure he can't understand a word of it. "Mr. Miller, what exactly are you trying to convey?"

"I just… just want to go to the location. That's what I'm trying to convey," what is so hard about it for his boss to understand? Ryan doesn't know, does everyone always have to decode the hidden meaning first and then only follow instructions, least, pleading? "Please?"

Swimming in the pool of assumptions Ethan extinguishes his cigarette with one last drag, "Why do you want to go there? Don't tell me your investigations are yet to be done."

"Of course they're, nothing has been proven yet," answers are always somehow pre-decided at Ryan's lips, "But that's not why I want to go there right now. I… want to calm my heart down. Does that answer your question?"

"How will the site be of any help with that?" Now what's with Ryan's heart and the showroom's location? Ethan is even more puzzled now— he isn't sure if it is appropriate, but Ethan knows he has to ask, the nagging feelings teetering defies silencing, "Excuse me for asking this, but is it because of Cameron?"

Expression screws, Ryan narrows his eyelashes, "Don't say such foolish things. I've known Cameron for like only one day. I want to go there because…" no matter however Ryan chooses to put it, it is going to sound absurd, "...the building's interior somewhat resembles the orphanage I grew up in. I feel safe whenever I go there. It simply brings me comfort," which is a blatant lie.

Ethan feels like there is more to the story. Ryan's explanation seemed too simplistic, too rehearsed. But he knows better than to push further. Sometimes, white lies serve a purpose. White lies do not hurt.

"But you've mentioned before that you disliked your time in that orphanage?" Is Ethan suffering a Mandela effect or if Ryan is really contradicting himself now?

"I never said that I hated the orphanage," Ryan corrects, defensive stance taking over, "I said growing up in an orphanage was challenging, but that was not a reflection of the orphanage itself."

"Then why was it hard?" Ethan's logical void gets the best of him.

Ethan wants to dig deeper, to understand why it had been difficult for Ryan, but he understands now is not the time, not the right one at least.

Gaining his chin inwards, Ryan sidetracks, "Let's save this conversation for some other day…please?"

"In one condition," Ethan isn't one to back off either, "I will let you go to the location in one condition. Since it was you who've initiated these conditions, it's only fair that I have my turn."

"Shoot."

"Mr. Miller," a lopsided grin is written on the CEO's lips, "Have you ever had an ex?"

One would expect Ryan to be taken aback, chest constricted again, gasping— no. He smiles, wide, "Yes. I have."

-

A centrepiece meant to inspire and ignite the imaginations of potential users, The Love Story Wall on first floor at the allocated space for LOVESICK's showroom, still lack the photographs that will soon grace its surface. Ethan spends more time particularly on one empty frame, a hope present but carefully tucked away.

"Wow!" Ryan emits a low whistle, "Why haven't you told me about this before? Just imagining all the pictures, the cute love notes, the letters hanging from these frame, aww, they're going to be so cute!!" He squeals.

"Can you keep your damn mouth zipped? And only write as much I ask you to?" Inspecting one of the walls, Ethan underlines the report, "Write down— to choose a themed background for this empty frame, a romantic wallpaper if possible. The proportions for this pinboard are 20" × 24", we will put the pictures and letters from dating phases at the top, and weddings in the middle. We will leave the bottom for our guests to leave their own pins."

"Okay," Ryan dutifully notes the nuances of their placements. "What shall we look at next?"

"Now look at that, Mr. Miller," face-to-face with the empty Love Story Wall, stands proudly the Success Wall of LOVESICK, displaying testimonials from the app's early users, co-existing with numerous awards, certificates and mementos, their love finding stories of finding love within the immortal grasp of the application's algorithm etched onto plagues. Ryan, from a distance, inspects the frame, "It feels so nice to see someone finding their love, isn't it?" But something traps the assistant's attention— there's no versatility, while Ryan has nothing against it, why are all the plaques showcasing only pictures of man and a woman together in it? Love, after all, is not so limited.

"The customised photo booth requires some props," to continue their exploration, Ethan, with his assistant walking beside, keeps moving. "List all the necessary props that might be relevant. I trust you on this."

Ryan's thumb is up, not without a wink, "Consider it done." They reach the haven for capturing cherished minutes, with a touch of whimsy, Ryan scribbling everything his mind is seeing in his journal, without a pause— roughly surpassing an empty booth, the extension running endlessly. Someone has honestly made their judgement, forbidden is seductive, unknown entices, the fear that comes with unknown, is not gonna lie, impossible to resist; the horror movie leads are best examples, aren't they?"

"Sir?"

"Yes?" The host, Ethan, finds it hard to decide if a red drape would look good for the photo booth or pale shades of pink.

"What's in that dark extension?"

Ethan tips to the younger with sudden surge of excitement— "You really want to see what's there? Let me assure you, it's something quite interesting!"

"Uh- huh," 'Interesting', the root of all evils, "Now you're making it look more interesting, who would say no to that?"

"What are we waiting for?" Ethan's assistant, Mr. Miller thinks, once in a while he's seeing his employer happy— the true definition of what it looks like to be happy as Ethan scurries through their narrow, obscure passage.

Stands a formidable and imposing structure, Ethan and Ryan both turn up at their destination. The structure stands tall and wide, surrounded by high scarlet brick walls topped with metal fences. The entrace is a heavy, bared metal gate, having intercom system for communication purposes, "What is… this?"

"What do you think it is?"

"Looks like a prison," Ryan cannot believe it, his supervisor can also come up with something like a love prison?— Unlikely, "Wait! Don't tell me–"

"Exactly, Mr. Miller!" That was exactly the reaction he had hoped for, "A love prison. And it's my original idea, my own."

Signage indicates the name of LOVESICK as of now, and possible warnings in future that aren't decided. Windows on the exterior are small and secured with sterile colourless bars, bearing metal grilles, acting as deterrent for escapees.

"I need to get inside it!! I love it!!" Ryan jumps with joy, "Absolutely love it! There's no other way this showroom could have been any better!!" He willingly arrests himself in the cell, "This is really the best, Sir! Kudos."

Floor covered in plush red carpeting, feels thick and indulgent underfoot, the softness of carpeting opposes the harshness of the bars, creating a striking juxtaposition. Walls of this prison are wrapped with luxurious velvet wallpaper, soft to the touch and exquisitely textured. The deep red velvet serves as a visual feast for eyes, creating opulence and sensuality, the elaborate patterns woven into fabric is inviting onlookers to explore an allure within. Rays of soft reddish light, reminiscent of setting sun, filter through windows, casting warm patterns outside. The love prison both appears and feels like it's painted with liquid love— the creation is perfect, everything about it is perfect…except one thing.

"Sir, will the metal door remain opened? Why is there no option to lock it from inside?"

"That's actually the best part, Mr. Miller," Ethan dawdles ahead of him, basking in his what now has transformed into vanity, "The feature is still under development, it's a heartbeats calculator. According to resources, if a person's heartbeat is 83BMP or more than that, they may have fallen in love, is falling in love, or at least are starting to have intimate feelings…"

In impression, a good one, the brunette's lips bow, "Woah!"

"If the heartbeats are calculated correctly, the door will be locked itself, meaning…"

"...the beginning of a blooming love story."

The prison gate locks from outside.