Irene stared at the close-mouthed Alex.
“Your friend sucks.” Irene complained.
She knew that with Lilian alone, getting the role of Maggie was a hard pass. But what was with that attitude? Brat.
Alex just shrugged his shoulders and walked past her, going to the balcony.
Irene followed suit.
“What can I say? She’ll benefit from it in the end.”
Besides, he actually got you, hah. He grabbed the long end of the stick.
At this time, he was already kinda regretting putting the script in that file.
Witnessing the slight change of pace in Vince’s tone when he talked to Lilian made him feel a bit guilty. He did make a promise to Carl, but he was also in a bind. Plus, he sincerely thought that “The Fall of Eden” was conducive to Lilian’s growth.
He has to push forward.
A sigh escaped from his lips.
He turned his head to face Irene beside him.
He asked, “Why was I pulled here for?” Nobody would be able to catch his slightly despondent tone if they were inattentive
Irene, who was preoccupied with her thoughts and was contentedly basking under the sun, was noncommittal. “Nothing.”
She just wanted his company—a familiar presence. She would normally call Riley for this, but that young woman was busy with her novel. If Riley reminded her of Liz, then Alex resembled Nathan.
The golden light illuminated Irene’s fair and smooth skin. Her mouth was hooked up.
“You appear to be having fun,” Vince called out.
Irene lifted an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Am I?”
“Yes. Yes, you are. I can also see that you especially like Lilian.” He was intrigued by this.
Irene was not bothered by his interested approach. “How can I not? She’s the cutest person I’ve ever met. You can’t not adore her.” She quite liked this topic.
Alex just stood there, listening to Irene gush over Lilian. It was a joy killing time with Irene like this.
In a light voice, he said, “Watch your words when with Lilian. That pure girl would be heartbroken to realize that her cool goddess is, in reality, a simp.”
“Hey!” Irene exclaimed. “What about you? You’re a Husky in the morning, but a German Shepherd at night. Those ‘friends’ of yours would be pissed to know the truth."
Alex was enjoying their bantering. Not looking at Irene, he leaned and rested his arms on the guardrail with the sky as his background. His muscles were relaxed. “Not all.”
Irene rolled her eyes. “Of course. Carl and Vince are special.”
Alex was discontent to hear what she said. Why did she leave herself out? Doesn’t she consider him as a friend?
As though desiring to drill this fact to her, his voice changed from light to heavy, from carefree to solemn. “You’re special too.”
He stared at her. Alex’s lips were pressed tightly as he focused on her.
Irene was held captive by his intense stare—as if his ocean-blue eyes could marvel at her soul infinitely.
A pin drop could be heard miles away.
In between the gap of the first and third second, heat rose from Irene’s ear and her heart skipped a beat. A palpable tension flashed between them.
But just as quickly as it sprouted, it snapped like a flimsy twig.
*Cough* *Cough* Irene cleared her throat.
“You’re right. I’m very special.” She tried to wave off the smoke left by the fire; no evidence should remain in the scene.
Alex studied her facial expression, making sure she understood her importance to him.
His stance abated as Irene ratified his comment.
In an effort to fully eradicate the previous tension, Irene added. “You should’ve just gone into business. You could play as a domineering CEO. It fits you perfectly.”
The softened Alex hummed, neither expressing support nor objection to it.
Irene, on the other hand, was seriously considering her nonsense proposal as it ran off her mouth. He got the brains, the body, and the looks of those CEOs in romance novels.
But she instantly nipped those thoughts in the bud.
There’s no value in mulling over all of this. What mattered was that having Alex as her manager was like finding a needle in a haystack, tedious but unique among others.
Alex reflected on what to say. Her remark struck deep to a problem he has been contemplating over for years. Should he continue hoping for change? Should he give up?
In the past, he would have held onto that sliver of hope, but now… now… An image of Irene in a red dress flickered in his mind; it was the photo Riley sent him.
Right. What am I doing? I already reached this point. There’s no use in turning back.
After brooding over it, he languidly replied, “I’m not fit to be a CEO, and before you say anything else, you can’t persuade me to think so otherwise. I’m positive.”
Alex has now come to terms with his situation.
He affixed at the end a “Thank you” to Irene. Two short words that carried his utmost gratification. Thank you for liberating me from this vicious cycle.
Irene was surprised. She was mystified where that thank you came from.
She observed him.
He wasn’t troubled. He was tranquil.
Did her words scratch a scar? To be careful, she hurriedly spitted out phrases. “I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just, it’s just... as someone like you, you coul—”
Alex cut her off as he burst out laughing, erasing the dusky ambiance. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
Tears started forming around his eyes.
“I know, I know.” He swallowed back the few remaining laughs left in his throat.
Irene’s ears were now crimson red. The hue was slowly creeping to her cheeks.
Alex spotted this and coughed a few times.
He lightheartedly answered her. "It’s fun to be a manager. I had never thought that supporting someone toward her ambition would be this euphoric. It’s addicting."
With a distant look, he gazed through the skyscrapers beyond them, wind blowing on his hair.
As a final indulgence, he permitted his longing for the light that was progressively getting further away to flood his pupils.
And he blinked. A clangor thrummed his ears.
It was the hammer hitting the last nail in the coffin of his dreams. He could, at long last, end this crazy dream of his.
Alex shook his head from reverie.
He turned, and gave his sweetest smile to Irene.
Irene saw this and her feet were frozen. She swallowed and shifted her eyes down.
She changed the topic. “I’m craving donuts.”
An instant reply. “You’re still on a diet.” Another form of the word, no.
“It’s been thirty days since the last time I had sweets. Just this once, please.”
Her pleading appearance caught Alex. In the end, he had no other choice but to chuckle in defeat.
“Okay. But just this once,” he uttered, pampering her.
Irene’s taste buds could finally experience rain after a month-long drought! “I’ll have Boston Cream, please. Thank you.”
The slight pitch in her voice was a clear indicator of Irene’s mood.
Alex watched her eyes creased in fulfillment. He ruffled her hair and stood up. Before closing the door, he said, “Only one, though.”
***
Left by herself, Irene called out, “002.”
002 answered her. [Yes, host?]
Irene was homesick. With no Alex to accompany her, she turned to the system.
The system’s sense of existence was nil. So she had to talk more than usual today to not feel lonesome.
“What are you here for?” Irene absentmindedly asked.
[To issue tasks and make sure you won’t digress from the plot,] 002 said.
Typical answer.
“How was your previous host? I’m certain you had one.” Irene blurted out whatever came to mind first.
…
“Hello? Twoooo, you there?”
Irene perked her ear up. Nothing. No reply. And here she thought it had a change of heart.
It was actually still the same old cold-blooded robot.
Irene grimaced. Her left eye twitched in exasperation.
She was ready to call it a day and was intending to shut her eyes for a moment while waiting for Alex.
But then, 002 came back.
[Don’t worry, host. The time you spend here has no importance in your world. May it be two, five, or even ten years. The minute you complete everything, I’ll return you back to the very second I pulled you out.]
Irene was in a daze. That was kind of the system to offer those words.
If it read her thoughts or not, she was unconcerned. She could now put down the rock that had been weighing her down.
002 continued. [You can perform the task with a peace of mind.]
Those were the system’s last word before leaving Irene alone.
Irene moved her sight to the window.
The sky was calm and not a cloud to be seen. You could occasionally see a plane flying past, mistaking it for a bird.
Sprawled on the bed, she slowly curled into a fetal position.
Her hair was scattered on the white fitted sheets; the glossy strands claimed the mattress all for themselves.
Warmth permeated in the hotel room.
She thought back to the system and mumbled, “Heh, you’re not that bad after all."
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