"Kyle, stop worrying about me. I'm not a kid anymore—I'm twenty! Twenty years old!" she yelled.
"How many bourbons did you drink?" I asked. She just smiled, all pretty and smug. Her lips said "one," but her behavior screamed more than three.
"Kyle, why did you do that to me?" she said in a heartbreaking, depressed tone.
"Shhh. I'm not your Kyle. So, tell me, Sophie—what happened? Again? This is the third time in a month."
"Kyle, I can see you so clearly. Stop denying it. It makes me feel bad... it breaks my heart," she murmured.
"For goodness' sake, I'm not your Kyle. It's ALVA!"
"Alva?" she squinted at me, then grabbed my hands. "Finally, you recognize me, pal."
"Kyle and I broke up."
"Okay," I said, just nodding.
They were the best couple I'd ever known, but their breakups over the smallest issues were exhausting.
"What did you tell him?"
"I... I..." she stammered, a tear slipping down her cheek and landing on her trembling lips. "I told him he was cheating on me with his secretary... I told him I was okay without him or his money... I said he was the worst boyfriend ever and I'd find someone better... I told him I hated him with all my heart... I said things I didn't mean..." She broke into loud sobs.
"It's okay, Sophie. Why don't you leave him and find someone better—someone who won't cheat on you?"
"I can't leave Kyle. If I could, I would. He's my life."
"Okay, then let's meet him. Sound like a good idea?"
"No, no! I won't. I want to prove to him that I'm better off without him!" she objected.
What do you want me to do?!
"I love Namjoon!" she suddenly cried and hit her head on the table.
"Yes, you do, dummy."
"No, I hate him! Just like I hate K-pop!"
"Don't mention BTS unless you want to walk home."
"B… T… C," she slurred, swapping names.
"Her bill is $100," the waiter said.
"Okay." I searched her pockets and handed the money to him. "Let's go."
"No."
"Hey," I said, dragging her out of the chair.
"I hate you, Kyle... I love you, Kyle... I hate him... no, I love him... I hate him…"
I need to record this and show her when she's sober. Right now, she just needs to get out of here.
---
Outside
Carrying my crazy, drunk best friend was like hauling a truck. She looked skinny and light, but she weighed like 250 pounds.
"Kyle, I love you…"
"Stop!"
But she sang louder. Was it the bourbon or just her usual stubbornness?
"Sophie, I think I have to call my mom. I can't leave you like this," I said, setting her down. "Stay here. Don't move, okay?"
"Hmmm." She nodded like an obedient girl, which she is not.
Ring ring ring...
"Mom," I said.
"What's up, girl?"
"I'm not coming home tonight. I'm staying over at Sophie's apartment."
"Uh... okay. Bye. See you soon..."
"Who were you speaking to?" Sophie mumbled.
"I was just sending your aunt off."
"Okay."
"Look for a handsome boy over there," Mom teased. "And don't forget to get his number, okay?"
"Mooom…" I blushed and hung up. "Sophie, let's go."
"???"
I turned around. She wasn't where I left her. "Sophie, where are you? Stop hiding. You're drunk... Sophie?"
"???" No reply. Just weird noises from afar.
I left her right here. Where did she go? Did someone take her? A bandit?
And she's drunk.
"Sophieeee!"
"She's with him," a deep voice echoed behind me. I turned and met the eyes of a stranger. He wore a black hoodie and loose joggers. His rich brown hair complemented the deep intensity of his eyes—a hypnotic mix of warmth and mystery. His features were flawless, and his skin looked like polished porcelain.
"Who are you?" I asked, barely whispering.
"I'm…" he paused, as if reconsidering giving me his name. "She's with Kyle."
"Forget names—where's my friend?"
"Skipping introductions might be best," he said, eyes locked on mine.
Yeah, it probably would be.
"She's with Kyle," he repeated. His deep, raspy voice sent shivers down my spine. A dark aura hung around him. He pulled keys from his pocket and pressed a button—lights flashed on a sleek Lamborghini.
"Get in," he said.
I hesitated but climbed into the passenger seat, trying to hide my nerves. He spoke to a woman in a dark business suit and glasses in a language I couldn't recognize.
He's probably not a kidnapper... right? Just someone helping me find Alva. Still, can I trust him?
As the car sped off, he asked, "Are you ready?" His voice cut through my thoughts. "Tighten your seatbelt," he added.
I obeyed, heart racing.
---
At the Mansion
Sophie's voice rang out, echoing through the mansion. "Leave me! I don't want you!"
Her anger and pain hit like a wave.
He stepped closer, gently holding her face. "Sophie, look at me," he whispered. "There's nothing between me and my secretary. I swear it."
Sophie's eyes filled with tears. She tried to pull away. "I don't want to hear it," she said, voice cracking. "I'm tired of the same words, the same lies."
He held her gently, his voice soft. "I won't pressure you. But please, know that I love you."
The words lingered in the air, a delicate plea in the storm of emotions.
Sophie didn't speak. She turned to leave, and he handed her the yellow-designed bag she had dropped. His fingers brushed hers.
Oh, girl—just tell him you love him already.
"Sophie!" I called, watching the scene unfold. My heart ached as she lied to the man she clearly still loved.
"Let's go home, Alva," she said. She ran toward me, and I caught her in my arms, cradling her gently.
Rain poured down suddenly, the sky turning from dark to a heavy gray. It drummed against the mansion roof like a sad lullaby.
Really, rain? Now?
"You both can spend the night here," Kyle said as I glanced at the sleeping beauty in my arms.
"Okay."
Kyle lifted her with care. "I've got her," he murmured.
"Don't tell him I love him," Sophie whispered, eyes closed.
I nodded and smiled slightly as he carried her away. The door shut quietly behind them, like a soft sigh in the silence.
Now alone in the mansion with the mysterious stranger—yeah, he was handsome.
But not my type.
Never my type.
The rain made everything feel cozy, like I should be curled up with a book and coffee. But the hum of the laptop in the dining room reminded me: this wasn't the end.
Not even close..
+++
I slowly emerged from the haze of sleep. The warm sunlight streamed into the living room, casting golden rays across the space where I had dozed off.
I sat up gently on the couch, stretching my body long and slow. Then, I heard the same sound that had lulled me to sleep last night—the rhythmic tapping of keys. I squinted toward the glow of the laptop screen, where that mysterious guy was still typing furiously, like his life depended on it.
Did he really not sleep all night? Not even a wink in this cold, cozy weather?
Beep, beep, beep.
My phone vibrated from the chair beside me, flashing a message from Mom:
{Come home now. Your blind date is today ~ Mom}
Wait—what?! I thought it was next week! Why is the universe so unfair to me?
I grabbed my jacket off the chair and headed to the door.
He didn't even notice I was leaving. Another reason why I could never marry a rich guy.
They're too absorbed in their business to notice people leaving them behind.
---
At Home
"Are you ready?" Mom called, serving bright yellow scrambled eggs onto four plates.
Brian looked up, curiosity written all over his face. "Where's Alva going? She's been in her room for ages. There are some scary muscular dudes outside in expensive cars. Is she going on a date?"
Mom shot him a warning glance. "No, she's not going on a date," she said, trying to wave off his questions.
Brian muttered, "Who'd even date Alva? She's always fighting with me over stupid stuff."
Just then, I walked out of my room.
And silence fell.
I was dressed in a designer gown that fit like a glove, hugging every curve. My makeup was flawless—glowy, radiant. My lips were coated in rich, velvet lipstick, and my golden hair flowed down my back like a waterfall.
I didn't need anyone to tell me I was beautiful. I knew.
Honestly, I look like the kind of girl who'd seduce her future boss... lol.
Brian stared at me, mouth agape. "Wow… you look… so... ugly," he said awkwardly.
"Brian, be nice," Mom said, trying to stifle a laugh.
"I can't, Mom…"
"Briannnnnn!"
---
Outside, a sleek black car waited in the driveway. The driver and a guard stood nearby, both dressed in tailored black suits.
The guard's sharp features and piercing eyes made my heart skip a beat.
"My lady," he greeted with a respectful nod, his deep voice sending a strange flutter through me.
I felt... kind of royal.
He held the car door open, and I caught a tiny smile tug at the corner of his lips. "My lady?" he repeated, tilting his head slightly.
As I settled into the plush leather seat, he closed the door with care and spoke through the intercom.
"Would you like some coffee, my lady?"
"No, thank you," I replied, trying to keep my cool.
"Anything you need, my lady, just let me know."
"Okay," I said softly, smiling to myself.
Can he keep calling me that?
I'm seriously blushing.
---
We arrived at a popular bar on the Las Vegas Strip. It took my breath away.
The hall glowed in soft, golden light, creating a romantic atmosphere that made every couple look like they were in a dream. The elegant décor—intricate wood carvings, delicate lanterns, and lush greenery—radiated refinement and sophistication.
And I couldn't help but wonder:
Who exactly is this young CEO I'm supposed to meet…?
The closer I stepped toward the unknown CEO, the faster my heart pounded—wild and frantic, as if it were trying to break free from its cage.
I didn't know if it was fear… or something else entirely.
The guard stepped forward and pulled the chair out for me. I sat down gracefully, a polite smile forming on my lips, even though inside, I was a swirling storm of nerves and curiosity.
Who is he?
I was eager. Too eager. My fingers fidgeted beneath the table, my eyes scanning every detail as I waited for him to lift his head.
And then… he did.
He slowly raised his gaze toward me. The moment our eyes met, everything inside me froze.
My breath hitched.
My eyes widened in disbelief.
Him.
Why him…?