As another day in the office drags on, everything feels like a monotonous loop, each one blurring into the next. The job is strangely undemanding lately, and I can't help but wonder if my boss knows I'm planning to ask for another raise. Maybe that’s why he’s withholding tasks—waiting for me to regain my focus before unloading a mountain of work on me. Whispers echo through the building about how he’s the most ruthless boss around—smart, strict, and utterly devoid of mercy. “How does a guy like him even get married?” I wonder. It's a mystery my coworkers love to gossip about. Even pigs somehow find companionship, I think, rolling my eyes.

  But love? Why am I letting such thoughts invade my focus? I force myself back to the screen, fingers tapping furiously against the keys as the sun sinks lower, casting long shadows across my desk. Exhausted, but happy that the day is over, I finally drag myself home, the weariness clinging to me like a heavy shroud.

  I check my phone on the way home, scrolling through my messages to see if Maria has sent me anything. These days, my focus is always on my phone. It’s strange—after all, it’s been ages since I last added a new contact. For the longest time, I didn’t even see the point of owning a phone. After my parents' incident, there wasn’t much of a reason, aside from keeping in touch with work. But now... now, there’s something different, a new reason to keep it close. This time, it’s more personal.

  As I approach my apartment, I catch a glimpse of someone lurking nearby. It’s him—the neighbor from the other day. He rarely lets himself be seen. Is he hiding from someone? I don't know, and honestly, I don’t care. I’m too tired to delve into anyone else’s drama; I just want to shower.

  Stepping into my sanctuary, I peel off the layers of my work persona and let the hot water cascade over me, steam enveloping me in a comforting embrace. I can’t shake the thought that in just two days, I’ll have a date.

  "That was nice, I needed that shower," I say as I look at the mirror, feeling more relaxed.

  The days seem to improve, I think, and the shower calms my senses. Yet my mind only wanders continuously, spiraling into anxiety. When will my boss reveal his true face? What if the date goes wrong? Am I destined to slurp instant noodle soup for the rest of my life? “NOOO!” I scream, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The sound echoes, and I realize I’ve probably startled the neighbors. “I just hope they don’t knock at my door,” I mutter to myself.

  As the minutes stretch into eternity, I decide to calm down. “Nobody even came,” I sigh, battling the creeping feeling of loneliness. “I guess nobody cares about me.” But why am I succumbing to this weakness? I shake my head, forcing myself to refocus. “Come on, Elysia. Whether it’s a date or not, you’re strong. You can’t expect strangers to take care of you like Mom and Dad did…”

  I blink back tears, taking a deep breath. “You can do this! Just like you always have.”

  Just then, a sharp knock breaks my concentration. My heart races as I realize I’m still in a towel. Panic surges through me, and I hurriedly throw on some pants and a shirt before rushing to the door. What if it’s the police? I need to clear up this misunderstanding quickly.

  I swing the door open, apologetic and flustered. “Sorry to bring you here, officers! I screamed because I hit my toe on a toy brick.” My voice trembles with embarrassment as I avert my gaze.

  Silence hangs in the air, thick with tension, until I finally muster the courage to look up. Instead of policemen, it’s my weird neighbor, his inexpressive face staring at me. He seems to process my words but then steps back, clearly not interested in my explanation.

  “Ey, wait! Why are you—what?” I stammer, confused by his sudden retreat. He glances over his shoulder, his expression shifting from curiosity to an odd mix of caution and disinterest, before he walks away without a word.

  I close the door, leaning against it in confusion. “What a weird guy.” Shaking it off, I decide to just go to bed. Tomorrow is another day, and I have a date to worry about.

  My phone rings with a text message.

  “Ely, tomorrow he will be at your door. Can you send me your address?”

  “Sure,” I send her the address from my apartment.

  “Okay,” I texted her my address before deciding to take a shower and have something to eat. I need the energy for tomorrow. Eating noodle soup again is painful on my tongue, but the thought of enjoying real food tomorrow makes the discomfort fade away.

  After cleaning my dishes, I slip into my special pajamas, a little charm for good luck in the morning. “Good, now to prepare my clothes for tomorrow.”

  I check the weather on my phone. It’s sunny but not too hot. I decide on a melon-colored skirt paired with a light denim jacket in case we stay out until the afternoon. A cute hat will complete the look. Should I take my purse as an accessory? I like it, even if it’s empty; I bought it simply because I love the design. With a sigh, I think, “I’ll toss a few dollars in there just in case.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Feeling my eyes grow heavy, I turn off the light and settle into bed, falling asleep almost immediately, until the next day.

  CLANK CLANK

  “Hmm, a few more minutes…”

  Clank clank.

  I jolt awake. “Today is my day…” Turning on the water heater, I move to the bathroom to splash my face.

  Clank clank.

  “Who’s bothering me this morning with a car horn?” Sweat beads on my forehead.

  “Where’s my phone?” The ringing cuts through the haze. “Unknown number?” I answer.

  “Hey, you’re Elysia, right? I’m Joseph. I’m here for our date. I thought Maria told you I was supposed to pick you up at your house. I was worried something happened since I didn’t see you outside at the agreed time."

  "No, I’m fine! I’ll be there in 5 minutes!" I lie, glancing at the clock. 10 AM. My heart sinks. How had I slept through my alarm? "Oh no, I set it for 10 PM by accident," I whisper to myself, panic setting in.

  I leap out of bed, diving into my closet, tossing clothes around like I’m in the middle of a storm. Jeans or a skirt? Casual or dressy? Why hadn’t I planned this earlier? "God, I don’t have time for makeup," I groan, hurriedly throwing on the first decent outfit I can find. "Where’s my purse?" I practically shout, frustration bubbling as I search for it.

  "Nooo!" I yank it out from under a pile of clothes, spilling the contents everywhere. It takes me 20 minutes—20 whole minutes!—to scramble everything together before I finally rush down the stairs, trying to catch my breath and calm my racing thoughts.

  I step outside, almost missing the fact that there’s a car parked in front of my house. But when I do, my eyes widen in shock. "No way!" I gasp. That’s a Tisla. The kind of car that turns heads just by existing, sleek, shiny, and futuristic. It’s the latest model too, I can tell. They call these electric cars, right?

  I try to keep my cool, but I’m already rehearsing lines in my head. I’ll have to pretend I know something about it if he starts talking about cars. Smiling awkwardly, I walk towards the car, still buzzing with nerves. Today is definitely going to be interesting.

  I watch as a tall man emerges from the vehicle. With striking green hair and matching green eyes, he carries himself with a confidence that’s hard to ignore. His clothes are impeccable—better than anything I’ve seen, even on my boss. What kind of people does Maria hang out with?

  “Hello, Elysia. I’m Joseph.” He approaches, opening the door for me. Wow. “Wow,” I let slip. I’ve never encountered such a gentleman.

  “Get in.” I nod and enter the car. Everything is spotless—not just the exterior, which reflects Joseph's pristine image, but the interior as well. This feels too good to be true. Still, if Maria knows him, maybe he really is the real deal.

  He starts the engine. “Would you like to get some breakfast? You might be hungry.”

  I blush. I’d rather skip to the fun part of our date than highlight the fact that I haven’t had breakfast yet. “Oh, no, I already ate.”

  “Are you sure? It seemed like you just woke up when I called you.”

  I hesitate. “Actually… I’m thirsty instead.”

  “Sure thing. Sebastian?

  To my surprise, a figure emerges from the back of the car. “Yes, Lord.”

  Wait—what? Where did he come from? Was he there the whole time? Sebastian? A butler? How?

  “Sebastian, I’ve told you many times, just ‘Joseph’ is fine.”

  “Yes, Mr. Joseph.”

  It’s then that I notice each seat has a hidden panel with a keyboard for typing a password. Sebastian presses a combination, and a compartment opens from the seat.

  “Ambient or cold, Mr. Joseph?” the butler asks.

  Joseph turns to me. “What do you prefer, Elysia?”

  “Cold would be better.”

  Instead of handing the drink directly to me, the butler passes it to Joseph, who then offers it to me with a smile. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, Joseph.”

  “Let’s head to the coast,” he says, starting the car.

  “The coast?” I ask, curious.

  “Yes. The restaurants here are good, but not as good as what Sebastian can prepare with premium meat in front of a beautiful beach.”

  Wait—premium meat? I just met this guy, and he's already treating me like royalty. This is way beyond what I expected. I appreciate the effort, but isn’t this a bit too much?

  “Wait, premium meat? What’s that?”

  “The most skilled chefs handpick cows, and they cut the meat at perfect angles to ensure the highest quality. These cows are one in a million. Isn’t that exciting?” His enthusiasm is contagious.

  I smile, seeing how much he’s into it though. “Yes, it is! I’m curious now. I’ve had meat before, but I’ve never heard of premium meat. You can’t wait to try it too, huh?” I tease, giving his arm a playful nudge.

  “Ah… I’ve had it before,” Joseph replies with a modest smile. My excitement fades—I’d hoped for something special, something unique we could share together.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Maybe we could try something new? Something you’ve never had before?” I suggest, trying to salvage the moment.

  He thinks for a second. “Hmmm, I don’t usually eat anything that messes with my diet, but okay… let’s order pizza.”

  Pizza? My mood instantly lifts. I love pizza. Before I can say anything, he leans back in his seat, casually instructing, “Sebastian, order at least twelve pizzas from Italy. Make sure they’re delivered by our private jet, as quickly as possible.”

  My smile freezes in confusion. Private jet? Did he really say that, or am I still half-asleep? Sebastian, unbothered, is already texting someone.

  “They’ll be here this afternoon, Mr. Joseph,” Sebastian confirms.

  “Great, thanks. Well, maybe eating pizza by the coast isn’t the best idea. Any suggestions on where we should go instead?” Joseph asks, turning back to me.

  “Let’s go to a park. Something nearby. We could take a walk and just chat for a while,” I say, hoping for something low-key.

  “Chat?” He raises an eyebrow. “But if you’d like, I can arrange entertainment.”

  I shake my head, smiling. “No, just a simple chat. Look.” I point out the window toward a sign that reads Muse Park. “There’s a park right there.”

  “Muse Park it is.” He gives a small nod and redirects the car toward the exit.

  But as soon as we pull into the parking lot, regret washes over me. The "park" is a children’s playground—full of noise and activity. So much for peaceful conversation.