That was just so typical of him. I couldn’t decide if I hated him for it or secretly found it endearing.
"I highly doubt Winter has a ton of partners. People usually aren’t into that albino aesthetic. Sure, he has symmetrical features, but his coloring…"
"You never know," Blue added, his voice dropping to a low, amused murmur. "Some people may be into how different he is."
That got me thinking.
"Hmm. If I were to be honest, I also think he’s beautiful in a unique way, almost magical. Like a character straight out of a fantasy novel. But still… in real life? Probably doesn’t have it easy when it comes to dating."
"‘Still waters run deep’, as they say. Sometimes, the quiet ones turn out to be absolute demons in bed."
He let out a grave little chuckle. I almost fired back something sharp—"Yeah, because you’d totally know, considering you’ve never been in a relationship in your life."
But I bit my tongue. No point kicking a guy when he’s already down.
***
At home, my father didn’t ask a single question about my first day.
We ate dinner in silence while Vren took over the conversation, ranting about his problems at the bank and complaining about his subordinates. I actually felt kind of bad for them, it was another classic case of the boss’s kid being in charge when he probably shouldn’t be. Sure, Vren had the education, but not much real experience, especially in a managerial role. So it wasn’t exactly surprising that there was tension at his workplace, and of course, he spent the entire dinner rambling about it. As always, everything revolved around him.
Only when we were done eating did Dad acknowledge me, stopping me on my way to the bathroom. His eyes radiated worry.
"Everything alright, Sariel?"
I knew what he meant. He wasn’t just asking if I was okay. He was also asking how work had gone.
"Yeah, everything’s great, Dad. Perfect," I said, stretching my lips into a fake smile. I did it for his sake. He was way too anxious to handle my workplace drama. It was better to spare him extra stress.
He gave a relieved nod and left just as quickly. His face showed a kind of quiet contentment.
My father always had specific plans for me, but my dad just wanted me to start working. He wanted it so badly that he genuinely didn’t care what kind of job it was, where it was, or what I was doing, as long as I was doing something. He was raised this way, in a culture that valued hard work, and he just couldn’t understand how I managed to spend the whole summer floating around doing whatever. Now that he was finally relaxed, I wasn’t about to spoil it for him.
Shuffling like an old man, I made my way to my room. I slumped in front of my computer and stared at my new project. Just a few sketchy lines so far: an outline of a tropical island. I wanted to draw it from a bird’s-eye view, in the style of those classic adventure game maps. There were supposed to be hidden treasures and traps scattered across it. I thought about giving them sarcastic names like "Ouch, That Hurts", "Here Lie My Deepest Insecurities", "Rapidly Declining Self-Esteem", and "Don’t Dig Here, I Might Bite". I was even planning a funny little legend to go with it.
But I just wasn’t in the mood. My creativity had pretty much burned itself out today.
Instead, I grabbed a regular sheet of paper and a pencil and sketched a simple scene: me, impaled by an icy lance held by an elven prince. It looked dramatic, there was a pool of blood, and a cold, white light radiated from the elf’s eyes.
Sighing, I put the pencil down. I had dance practice at the studio tonight at 7 pm, but I couldn’t bring myself to go. I collapsed onto my bed instead, still clutching the sketch in my hand.
For a while, I just stared at the drawing, blankly, numb.
Should this even matter to me this much? Blue always said I overthink everything.
I’d practically made it a hobby.
***
Just like that, my time at DevApp had officially begun.
Of course, I made sure to steer clear of Winter. The first few days blurred together—identical, monotonous. It felt like waking up, loading the same images, going to sleep, and waking up again, only to load the exact same ones.
Like trudging endlessly through snow. Or sand. One day indistinguishable from the next, one hour identical to the last. Mindless tasks, boring assignments, coworkers hunched over their desks in silence. Nothing, absolutely nothing to inject even a flicker of excitement into my life.
Maybe that was good? Maybe peace was a blessing. Some people would probably be grateful for a job like this.
But I wanted more. I wanted something challenging. Something that would make me feel alive. I was eager to learn, to develop new skills.
