The Billionaire's Bridal Chase

It’s not rocket-science to realize, but in case you haven’t yet, let me be the one to break it to you: People, almost easily, unknowingly, take time for granted. The carefree goodbyes packaged with an unwavering "Don't worry! We'll definitely see each other again next time,” is one example of it. Because really, how conceited can one be to swear that time is a free resource accessible 24/7? Do you think you'll always have the time? I'm afraid that is but a misplaced optimism. People used to say that time is an abstract concept that humans came up with, thus, means nothing. It means nothing as it sits in this world to give our existence something to slow down or hurry up for, something to make our evolution records sensible. I believed that for a while, until I bid my goodbye to the most senseful fete of my life. Many years back, I was too naïve to process that time was more than the ticking sound of the clock, meant deeper than waiting the night turn into day, and worse than karma with its consequences when neglected. Oh, young and dumb Levi. He rejected to entertain any complex and uncertain ideas and went ahead without seeing things through the end. I keep thinking about it. Was it fear? Fear of believing something that might not be real? Fear of feeling too much affection for someone? Well... It's a little too late for that now. Isn't it? After all, it was a flaw of mine I couldn’t forgive even after all the clock in the world continued to move forward, without halt, leaving me in the same place eight years ago. Eight years ago, when I had what it meant to be alive. Eight years ago… I had her. “...I don’t need a personal bodyguard. Don’t make me repeat myself.” [Master, if you refuse to accept the person I sent, you know that the situation will most likely end up worse for you. Your father will probably track you down with his connections then send two or three of his bodyguards to bring you back by hook or by crook. But why would you even run away without telling me in the first place? Don’t you trust me anymore-] I groaned in exasperation, deliberately cutting Raze-the person on the other line- with his trail of rambling. I knew he’s going to be like this, that’s why I attempted to ignore his calls. But fifty missed calls? Raze's stubbornness is truly on another level. Such a formidable opponent. “I get it,” I mumbled after a sigh. “Send this person’s number. I’ll phone him myself.” [Consider it done, Master… But, for real though, don’t you see me as your most trusted, 18+ video-binging buddy anymore-] I ended the call and threw my phone onto the bed behind me. I resumed drying my messy, medium-length, brown locks while distracting myself with the night view of the city from the huge window of my hotel room. Despite the beautiful distraction, I couldn’t help but remember my father’s words that urged me to get as far away as I can from my beloved country for a while. “Quit writing dumb, children’s stories and start working for the company.” I clenched my fist. “What a prick, that father…” He knew damn well how much I would hate working for him. Since high school, I’ve been expressing that I don’t want to be involved in the family business and instead pursue writing children’s fiction. I even burned all business-related books they gave to me as a present in front of them. I thought they understood my little rebellion back then, but it turns out they only turned a blind eye on it. This family is so annoying. Why give birth to a child, who’s bound to have free will and own dreams, if they only want him to live the way they want? They should’ve just gotten themselves a darn robot. “Ah, let’s not think about it,” I muttered under my breath as I massaged the bridge of my nose. As I did, I scanned the little buildings below. Immediately, I spotted the theater where I watched a musical play earlier. I remembered the person who played the role of my favorite character in an instant. “Urgh,” I groaned. What the hell, I’m just adding fuel to the fire if I continue to think about it. She’s the worst. When I went to bed to get a shuteye, I received a message from Raze saying that my personal bodyguard is already on her way to see me. Wait. Her? As if on cue, someone rang my doorbell. I messaged Raze telling him to give this bodyguard’s number. He was quick to reply. Without delay, I typed my shooing message, sent it to the number, and closed my eyes. It was silent for a moment until the doorbell was continuously rang as if a clueless martian just discovered the thing. What is this pig thinking, daring to get under the skin of his employer? Not planning to hide my fury, I walked towards the door and opened it with a frown transparent of irritation. Surprisingly, it’s really a woman. She’s wearing a neat suit and spectator shoes, all in black. Her hair is tied in a neat, low ponytail. She’s got a bright smile on her small lips, however I can tell it’s not at all genuine. I parted my lips to ask if she’s the bodyguard Raze sent, but she beats me to it. “Sorry to interrupt your evening, but are you Mr. Levi Miranda?” she asked, keeping the fraudulent curve on his face. Hmm? Her voice sounds familiar. “Yeah,” I answered nonchalantly, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, you’re the bodyguard sent by Raze.” “That’s about right. I’m Calysta Perez, your personal bodyguard during your stay here,” she said then offered her hand for me to shake. “Nice to meet you, Sir Levi.” I accepted her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Calysta.” Still not breaking from the contact, Calysta probed, “Oh, by the way. Did you just tell me through text to get lost, and at the same time, called me a pig?” Her smile went longer with her eyes disappearing, but I felt her grasp tighten. Wow, she’s a daredevil. “Yeah, I did,” I answered with an even bigger grin, clenching on her hand harder. I saw her eyes twitch for a second. Hah, I win this- “Ah!” Shit. Her grip hurts, I had to pull my hand back. I checked her out in disbelief while cooing my pained mitt, how can this wispy figure draw out such strength? Not to mention it’s just her hand. That’s a personal bodyguard for you. “Well, that's a sneak-peek of my strength, Sir Levi. This should prove that I can protect you from harm, and that you should not belittle me just ‘cause I’m a girl,” she says with the same, annoying smile. She then helped herself to my hotel room and sat prettily on the couch. I scoffed. I’m not a boomer to belittle a bodyguard just for the fact that she’s a girl. This woman’s just trying to get out of her crime. To top this incredulity off, she dares enter my room without my invitation? Not taking my eyes off of her, I unlocked my phone and called Raze. Thankfully, he answers like he’s just waiting for me to remember him. “Raze? I want a new bodyguard-“ “What a prejudiced upper-class~ They don’t deserve to live~” she cuts me off, rolling her eyes afterwards with a sarcastic look on her face. I gaped. With that look on her face and tone of voice, now I remember where I encountered her. For the second time, I hung up on Raze. . “You were Leonora, weren’t you?” I asked in a bored manner, all the while closing the door. She froze. Whoa there, I was right. “H-How did you-?” she stuttered. One of my eyebrows quirked. The atmosphere around her just changed. She averted his confident gaze from me to the white-tiled floor. Amused, I rested my weight on my left foot and tapped my other foot in a regular rhythm. “Want to hear some brutally honest feedback?” She lifted her eyes and met mine. Her expression is hard to read. But surely she takes pride on her acting? Hah, I’m about to burst your happy, little bubble. “The story, especially the scene you appeared on, is familiar to me, as well as the emotions it is supposed to bring out,” I began, mindfully using my hands to express my point. “Leonora's character, though carries not much significant role, is my favorite. Why? Because her qualities and emotions are the closest to that of humans. She’s prideful but weak, jealous, and bearing ill-will for others who stood above her. Her partaking in the story is well-thought, and because of that, her role can’t be for everyone. I’ve seen other plays of this story, but the Leonora I’ve seen earlier? It was the worst.” I heard her snort. “You acted too much by the script, to the point you forgot to flesh out your own version of this character's pain. It makes me think you didn’t understand the role given to you, that’s why you laid waste on it.” I know, I’m just outright dissing her, but somehow I'm not the least sorry about it. She clasped her hands over her mouth, feigning a shock. “You’re right, Mr. Know-it-all. I didn’t understand her character. I chose not to, and that’s because I hate her.” “Why? Because you wanted the lead role?” The moment her arrogant eyes hardened; I knew I hit the bullseye. Well, that was a haphazard guess. Who would have thought I am this good at annoying someone? She springs from the cushion and trudges towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir. I'll be next door. Call me when you need me,” she calmly says without looking back before closing the door with a loud thud. Hmm? I covered my mouth with my hands. "There's no turning back after messing with me now," I whispered to myself after a chuckle escaped my mouth.