Leaving the building behind, Roman's mind flashed back to his sex with Jane. Lauren's lecture still echoed in his ears, prompting a sharp realization: he needed to take life more seriously. He unlocked his car and slid into the driver's seat.
Meanwhile, Lauren stepped into her office—a spacious, minimalist white room anchored by a floor-to-ceiling glass wall on the right. She sat down behind her massive grey glass desk, lifting the phone to her ear.
"I'll review your offer and get back to you," she said calmly.
"Very well, ma'am. It was a pleasure speaking with you."
"Likewise."
She ended the call, set the phone on the desk, and leaned back into her leather chair. An upcoming meeting with high-profile investors was next on her schedule, and the thought gave her a quiet surge of confidence. She'd been putting in the work—building her wealth through strategic stock investments and taking absolute control.
Across town, Roman drove with one hand casually resting on the steering wheel. He began auditing his life, searching for notable achievements, but came up mostly empty.
I'm just an average guy trying to get by, he thought, a sense of absurdity washing over him as he contrasted his high school ambitions with his current routine. Great, I work at a company. But what am I actually striving for? Nothing that matters.
Then, a sudden spark hit him: a marketing business of his own.
He knew launching a startup wouldn't be easy, but the mere existence of the idea was a solid foundation. For the first time in a while, he had something genuinely exciting to look forward to. It's not too late, he reassured himself, a genuine smile replacing his earlier gloom as he navigated through traffic.
Hoxton Apartment, It was a crisp, clear morning. Elsa woke up at 8:21 AM, brushed her teeth, took a quick shower, and threw on a casual shirt and trousers. Her shift at the library was still hours away, but she always preferred getting a head start on her day.
Stepping into the living area, she spotted Lucy curled up on the couch with a book in her lap.
"Good morning," Elsa called out.
"Morning, Elsa," Lucy murmured, her eyes glued to the page.
Elsa smiled softly. Lucy had been reading a lot lately, quietly finding her own rhythm and resourcefulness. Heading into the kitchen, Elsa pulled out a bowl for cereal. Lucy worked at a local flower shop and was also killing time before her shift—she was an early riser by habit, especially since having a single job gave her more breathing room than most.
Elsa poured the milk, scooped up a big spoonful, and carried the bowl over to the dining table. Crisp crunches echoed through the room as she enjoyed her breakfast.
"Have you eaten yet?" Elsa asked across the open space.
"Yeah, about an hour ago," Lucy answered, keeping her eyes on the book.
Lucy felt a sudden urge to thank Elsa for helping with the rent again, but she checked herself. She'd already thanked her a dozen times, and bringing it up constantly would only annoy her.
A moment passed, and Lucy felt Elsa's eyes lingering on her. Unable to ignore the warmth of the gaze, she looked up. "Why are you staring at me?"
Elsa smirked around her spoon. "Just wondering if you're actually reading, or if you're just posing with that book to look intellectual."
Lucy gasped dramatically, clutching the novel to her chest. "Excuse me! I am smart. I'm enriching my mind."
"Oh, really? News to me," Elsa teased.
"Well, how would you know?" Lucy countered playful sarcasm. "Unlike someone who eats cereal like it's an Olympic sport."
"I eat efficiently," Elsa said, deliberately crunching as loudly as possible. "It's an art form."
"Uh-huh. An art form that's going to choke you one day." Lucy stretched her arms and stood up. "At least I don't have milk dribbling down my chin."
Elsa froze mid-bite, hastily wiping her face with the back of her hand—only to find it completely dry. "You liar."
Lucy burst into laughter. "Made you check, though!"
Elsa rolled her eyes, unable to fight off a grin. "You are deeply annoying when you're awake this early."
"And you're a absolute grump before noon," Lucy shot back merrily. "Face it: we're the perfect roommates."
"I admit to nothing," Elsa mumbled, hiding her smirk in another bite of cereal.
As Elsa finished off the last of the milk, Lucy closed her book with a soft snap.
"You know what I learned at work yesterday?" Lucy asked. "Tulips are weird."
Elsa glanced over. "Weird how?"
"They keep growing after you cut them," Lucy explained. "You put them in a vase all nice and straight, and by the next morning, they've bent in crazy directions trying to reach the light."
"Seriously?" Elsa set her spoon down, genuinely curious. "So you have to straighten them every morning?"
"Pretty much. Or you can poke a tiny hole right under the bloom with a pin. It stops them from growing." Lucy shrugged. "Sounds a bit brutal, but it keeps the arrangement looking neat."
Elsa snorted. "So you're out here stabbing flowers for a living."
"Only the dramatic ones," Lucy grinned. "Roses are totally different, though. They're drama queens in a different way—super thirsty. If you don't cut the stems at an angle and submerge them immediately, they droop within hours."
"An angle?" Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Why does that matter?"
"More surface area to drink," Lucy explained patiently. "A flat cut sits flush against the bottom of the vase, blocking the water flow. An angled cut prevents that. Oh, and you have to strip off any leaves that sit below the waterline, or they rot and turn the water slimy."
Elsa cringed slightly. "Okay, that's actually really useful. I usually just shove them in water and pray."
"Which is precisely why yours die in forty-eight hours," Lucy teased. "Now you know the secrets: angled stems, clean water, no submerged leaves. Basic rose survival."
"Fine, Professor Flower," Elsa chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Any other wisdom for my future grocery store bouquets?"
Lucy paused, tapping her chin thoughtfuly. "Turn the vase every day so tulips don't lean too far toward the window. And... maybe talk to your roses. Can't hurt."
"I am not talking to flowers, Lucy."
"Please! You were talking to your cereal bowl yesterday!"
Elsa shot her a mock glare, her eyes dancing with amusement. "That was completely different. The cereal was a good listener."