The grandeur, the opulence do very little to calm his nerves. Ryan has no idea what to expect, nothing one-up than humiliation. But the tumultuous events of the past stints had left the brunette on his edge. Mustering up the last bit of courage he has, Ryan enters the grand living room. It is filled with a bustling crowd, coming off apparitions that seem to dwarf the assistant in size. Ryan's anxiety shows no sign of dissipating anytime soon, a sense of foreboding washes over him. Each step taken, Ryan's trepidation dilutes. The phantom crowd seem to part a narrow aisle for solely him to pave, as if they are all well aware of the impending encounter between him and his overseer Ethan. He feels like a reluctant protagonist willingly walking towards his uncertain, maybe all altering fate."Is it what I am thinking it is. . ." Sound of a distant, feeble violin strings playing an all absorbing melody echoing through air, intensifying each corner in Ryan's mind, lighting his forsaken hopes
The interior decorators, a collective of talented creatives eagerly gather in the region, summoned straight from downtown Manhattan, circle a lot deasil, put together to bring Ethan Smith's visions to life. The CEO's absorption fits between the ornamentalists, his brow screwing up ever so slightly a fleeting moment before he seamlessly engages with the group, “So, without further ado,” Ethan clears his throat, “Thank you all for being here today. We have found ourselves yet another unique opportunity, as you may already be acquainted with, to live up to LOVESICK's fame. LOVESICK has always prided itself on turning ordinary pieces into masterpieces. Keep in mind, our upcoming showroom inauguration must embody this ethos to perfection.”Ethan's eyes, through and through, dart around the room, not lingering on any one person for more than a split second before moving on to the next. His hands fidget with a pen in his pocket, tapping it against his thigh in an erratic pattern. “Furthermor
“Yes, Elizabeth, outside the damn box,” Ethan repeats, growing with ripping adamantation, “We're not getting anywhere with these conventional ideas.”Benjamin, the team's resident strategist scratches his chin thoughtfully, “But where else can we look? We've exhausted all the obvious avenues.”“That's precisely the problem!” Ethan exclaims, hands clammy, clasped together, “We're tethering to the same old patterns, expecting different results. We need to challenge our assumptions, break free from the constraints of our preconceptions.”“But what does that even mean? ‘Thinking outside the box'?” Elizabeth must have garnished enough courage to remark such, “Isn't it just a cliché?”“It is anything but a cliché, Elizabeth,” Ethan retorts, “It is a mindset. It is about refusing to accept the status quo and constantly pushing the boundaries of creativity and innovation,” Ethan drags his ombre ravenette waves from his face for an opaque view that ends at nothing. The team members exchange d
"I would rather prefer to be sick than lovesick." *** It is unwonted— the two piece suit in a hue of dark mocha colours, a conservative tie, with coordinating socks and shoes. Ryan Miller, 19, never had worn any apparel that could be deemed 'formal', because he is allegedly reputed a 'good for nothing' for his incompetence, and therefore was never needed to wear one. That was until today. Yes! Ryan Miller is me. "May I come in, sir?" I stand before the ingress, carrying the copies of my resumè and some other necessary documents. "Come in," he says without lifting his head. From his appearance, one can undeniably say that my new boss, the owner of the chart-topping dating app of Allentown- LOVESICK, is a workaholic. I bow before proceeding to set my foot in that gelid, aloof room. From my boss's countenance, I can take it as read that he is not very delighted to recruit me as his Personal Assistant. I have heard that during the preliminary interview, there had been some disputat
"Family!!! Love!!!!??? Nonsense, absolute nonsense!!!" Ethan punches against the table, hurting his knuckles again— he shakes his palm incessantly, as he begins to trot all around his substantial office room. "Who? Who the hell is he?? Why would he appear out of nowhere and dare to lecture me, The Ethan Smith about love, emotions and more of similar jokes after all these years again?" Enraged, he sweeps away all the vocational papers put on the Caramel desk before him. He sways over that aforementioned desk, putting both his arms over it, closing his eyes to regain his serenity— Ryan Miller. As soon as Ethan closes his eyes, the picture of Ryan Miller zooms off at the back of his mind. "AHHHHH!!!" He pulls his hairs, before a thin stream of tear escapes from his right eye. Despondency taking over him, he crouches on the floor, "Why…why did it have to be someone like him?" He sighs, before his eyes fall at the thing beside him— Ryan's green handkerchief. Ethan lay his hold on the p
Lillian gasps at his brother as he finishes drivelling on about his new overseer, Ethan Smith. "Do you…really mean that?" Lillian murmurs, eyes darting between the coat smeared with coffee, distributing a nutty aroma of that brewed beverage and the talker himself. The air, at that, stiffens around them and threatens Ryan to suffocate, in humiliation— in case he can not concoct a rejoinder. "Of course!!" Ryan croaks out with a sadistic smile. Lillian can see the elder man filling with irritability with every barest account he makes of the events from earlier in the morning. Sensing his obvious frustration, Ryan quickly says, "You're still too young to understand any of these! Besides, my stomach is growling." There isn't much to sort and Lillian had practically known he has doomed himself to an uncomfortable few whiles; much thanks to Ryan's horrendous petulance. Now that Ryan is straggling, the younger decides to meander down to the kitchen to grab something to satisfy both h
Lilian pins the Parchment to a hook, and weighs up on the risks for his elder brother, regarding the coffee blemish as base. Ryan's treasured brother, Lilian, paces around the room, the parchment fabric of the suit rubbing and hitting the younger's ears, making him dwell on— nearly Lilian appears like he is the protagonist of some mystery-thriller, racking his brains about a long unsolved cold case. "Ryan! What do you even keep on fooling around with? Geez!!" Lillian frets, then turning towards their bureau, above an inch where the said boy, after this fact, finds two paradoxical menders; their undefiled detergent and Ryan's long forsaken toothbrush with its finest bristles, while upon the mentions, Lillian's lips etches into an ear-to-ear beam."Thank you, lifesavers!!" He winks at particularly nothing noticeable. ***A weird throbbing transpires in the middle of Ryan's chest. His whey-faced countenance emulates the sinking of teeth into the mushy pair of lips which he possesses, R
"And I am ready to play the game, Sir!"Ethan's body movements freezes momentarily— "You sure do have a foul mouth, don't you?"Shifting the weights between his feet, Ryan nurses to his consternation. Necessarily, a discomfiture keeps up pace; if he is to ask for pardon, or pretend that he never said such things, he is not sure. By the grace of Almighty, however, Ethan swerves, forbidding impractical gossips, "Anyway, take a look here!" He turns the electronic device for Ryan to be commanding a view upon it."What is this?" Ryan squints the pair of his eyes— before him now sits a fulgent white screen, and several bars embellished through in different colors, "Oh! Statistics?" "Thank Heavens, you at least know what a statistic is," Ethan derides, "Of the past few years of LOVESICK'S services. Also, in that next slide, you can see the statistic for the past few months. In the next, of the past few weeks.""And in the next, of the past few days. Then the past few hours. Then the past fe