My Psychotic Boss

Malrick

The waiter came and went with practiced ease, scribbling down each order while the air at the table remained oddly taut. The moment where Malrick's voice had turned strange seemed to hang there between them like a fog no one quite acknowledged, but no one could entirely shake, either.

After he left, Delaney was the first to break the silence. She smiled too widely and leaned forward, slipping back into her usual charm like a jacket she knew how to wear. "So," she said, popping a sugar cube into her iced tea, "Seren, are you still making those Pinterest lunches for Rowan every morning? Or did that stop after the engagement ring went on?"

Seren gave a quiet, sheepish laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only on Tuesdays. You know, when I remember to wake up on time."

"Oh, right," Delaney said with a smirk. "You're not exactly a morning person. I remember your whole 'zombie-with-a-latte' era."

Rowan laughed hard, louder than the comment really called for. "That was a rough time. She used to wear two different shoes to class."

"It was one time," Seren said, smiling a little too tightly.

"Oh no, twice," Delaney grinned, eyes glittering. "Remember the green loafer and the black heel combo? That was a moment."

Seren laughed again, but it was thinner now. Her cheeks were a little pink. Across from them, Malrick didn't laugh. He hadn't touched his drink. His pale hands remained folded on the table, his gaze fixed squarely on Delaney. She noticed. Her eyes flicked toward him, then away. "Something on my face, Malrick?"

He blinked slowly. "Do you think you're a good person, Delaney?" The question dropped like a lead weight. The air around them seemed to still.

Delaney scoffed, clearly thrown. "Uh... yeah? I mean, I try to be."

Malrick nodded faintly, as if that was the answer he'd expected. "I like good people," he said quietly. Then his voice changed. No longer soft or bashful, now it was smooth, deliberate, and cold, like velvet stretched over stone. "But it's strange, isn't it? How many bad things happen to good people." The table went still. Even Rowan stopped fiddling with his fork. Malrick's expression had lost all warmth. His voice, once just quiet, had taken on a darker resonance, as if it were echoing from somewhere deeper inside him. "You can be a good person," he continued, eyes fixed on Delaney, "and still have everything taken from you. Still be hurt. Still be ruined."

Delaney sat back slightly, her smile gone. "What are you getting at?"

"It's the way of the world," Malrick said, not blinking. "It doesn't matter how hard you work, or how honest you are. If the world wants something from you... it'll take it." He looked down for a moment, tapping a single finger against the edge of the table. "I don't mean to make anyone uncomfortable," he said in a voice that was somehow colder than if he had. "But people pretend everything is fair. It's not. It never was."

Delaney frowned, shifting in her chair. "Okay, Malrick, that's—"

"Enough." He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The word came like a strike of thunder, quiet, but final. Sharp as glass.

Silence fell over the table like a curtain. Even the noise of the restaurant beyond them seemed to recede into a distant murmur.

Seren sat frozen, her hands limp in her lap, her mind scrambling to follow what was happening. Malrick's voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere else entirely, like something ancient trying to remember how to be human. He looked back up at Delaney.

"When something bad happens," he said slowly, "blame the world. Blame the structure. Blame the rules. But don't be surprised."

He turned then, as if nothing had happened, and unfolded his napkin onto his lap. "And don't take it personally," he added, with a small, distant smile.

Delaney stared at him, visibly disturbed. Rowan glanced between the two of them, lips pressed in a tight line. But Malrick, Malrick simply began eating. He took a bite of his food with careful grace, chewing slowly, that same gentle smile now painted across his face like it had never left.

The tension in the air didn't go away, it only changed. It coiled, wrapped itself around the table like a fog too thick to see through. But Malrick? He looked perfectly at peace.

Seren watched him, her fork untouched beside her plate. She didn't fully understand what had just happened. But something in her gut told her: this wasn't the first time Malrick had said something like that. And it wouldn't be the last.