This one is a bit shorter but I hope you enjoy it.
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Considering all the odds stacked against us, it was a minor miracle that one of my bodyguards managed to survive. Well, survive might be a bit of an overstatement—let's say he made it out with a few souvenirs in the form of cuts, bruises, and a rather impressively broken arm. But hey, unlike his unfortunate counterpart, he lived to tell the tale. Never in my life had I felt so alive, so invigorated by the thrill of danger. That night was etched into my memory, like a vivid painting in a gallery of mundane moments.
I couldn't sleep a wink as the hours stretched on, my thoughts consumed by one singular figure: "Jom." His image danced across the canvas of my mind—the contours of his face, the curve of his mouth when he smirked, the shape of his eyes. Everything about him was just... perfect.
"Khun Kinn... Khun Kinn... Khun Kinn?" The voice pulled me back to reality, and I realized with a start that I had zoned out during a crucial business meeting. Oops. My mind had been lost in the labyrinth of memories, the taste of adventure still lingering on my lips.
"WHAT," I snapped back into the present, a touch of irritation in my voice. But in a moment that could only be attributed to my practiced finesse, I straightened up my impeccably tailored suit, adjusting my tie with the precision of a surgeon. I continued the meeting as if nothing had happened, seamlessly transitioning from the exhilarating world of danger to the more mundane realm of corporate negotiations. After all, in my line of work, one had to be a master of duality, capable of switching between personas like a chameleon changing colors.
After a few days of tracking and investigations that would make Sherlock Holmes proud, they finally located our elusive friend, "Jom." It was as if the universe had decided to grant my wish, and a sly grin couldn't help but tug at the corners of my lips. We found ourselves at a bar, the gritty back alley entrance serving as a not-so-subtle reminder of the turbulent events that had brought us here.
Stepping into the establishment, I was greeted by the owner, Jay Yok—a no-nonsense woman with a knack for business and a welcoming demeanor. She inquired about my needs and desires in a manner that could only be described as charmingly professional. With a casual flick of my wrist, I requested that she clear the bar of all its occupants, leaving only "Jom" and me in the spotlight. A generous sum of money exchanged hands, and she graciously agreed to my terms. Within minutes, the bar was emptied, and it was just me and my trusty bodyguards holding court.
"Jom" emerged from the employee's office, a figure bathed in an aura of mystery and intrigue. Jay Yok introduced me to him with a hint of amusement in her voice, remarking, "Treat him well; he seems like he's rich." Her playful giggle was the cue for her exit, leaving us to our devices.
"Jom" nodded in acknowledgment and muttered his thanks to Jay Yok before his intense gaze settled on me, once again. It was as though he had X-ray vision and could see right through me, or maybe he was just naturally nosy.
I decided to break the ice with my signature brand of straightforwardness. "Do I look nice today?" I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm as I examined my impeccable attire.
"What the fuck..." "Jom" mumbled, clearly not expecting this particular line of conversation.
"Make me a drink," I commanded, leaning back as if I were in my own personal throne. My bodyguards mirrored my authoritative stance, their eyes boring into "Jom" like lasers.
He quickly set to work, concocting a "Martini on the Rock" with the deftness of a seasoned mixologist, finishing it off with a single, perfectly placed olive. I couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised by the quality of his craft—it was, dare I say, quite good.
