You groan when the blaring ringtone of your phone woke you up. You groggily picked it up and brought it next to your ear.
"Hello?"
"So? How was he? He's perfect right?"
You snorted.
"Yeah perfect, a perfect disaster that is. What the hell made you think was a good idea to put me and him together? We are nothing alike!" You heard a confused 'huh?' from your matchmaking friend.
"What happened?"
"Oh I'll tell you what happened, he doesn't speak to me at all. He made me feel like I was held at gunpoint, any wrong move in doing the oh-so-graceful table manners, I'm gonna get shot. That's how it was. This Crap went on for three whole hours. What the hell is he anyway? A CIA agent? Why is he so scary without acting stupid? Why did he arrive earlier than me?"
You kicked your blanket away and sat upright.
"He was a strict lecturer in Ethereal University of Arts. He got rich off his own books and stopped working there." You raised your eyebrows.
"No wonder, he's a damn English teacher. And English teachers are a pain in the ass to bear with."
You sniffled. "I bet he would have made me write 'I will not use my salad fork on a meat dish' over and over until a thousand times and make me sit in the shame corner to reflect on what I have done or something."
"Haha. Very funny (y/n). He isn't a preschool teacher, he is a lecturer. The ones that speak in a large auditorium, don't care if the students understand or not. Talks about English classic literature and all that. Narratives, prose, emotions, you know, the stuff that English Majors do."
"Okay okay, I geddit. Never got his damn name. How did he get mine? Wasn't it supposed to be a blind date?" (F/n) exhaled forcefully through her nose.
"He paid me extra to know, ahem. Most things about you before pairing up, he apparently hates surprises. His name is M. Evanet Vasilios. He publishes English and French novels."
"What does 'M' stand for? And why he agrees to be paired up with me?" (F/n) gave a forced laugh.
"Oh hon, I can't tell you what the 'M' stands for. You need to find it out yourself. If I do tell you, the man is going to beat the shit outta me."
"How the hell am I gonna find out when he doesn't even like me?"
"Says who? I called him to follow up and he told me he likes you very much."
"He what?"
"He likes you."
"No way."
"Yes way, he wanted another meeting with you. Expect a call from him later because I sold your phone number to Mr. Vasilios. The day you find out what the 'M' means, the day he trusts and loves you enough to get on his knee and propose a marriage."
You widened your eyes in shock.
"Hey, you can't just sell my information, That's illegal!"
"So is your hemp garden, (y/n). Come on, he paid for my services and you didn't. So it's only fair that I seize every opportunity to make money off you. I am doing you a favor, I don't owe you anything. But you owe me something. And that something is your information."
You smack your mouth and grit your teeth.
"Touché, touché. What the hell made me appealing to him anyway?"
(F/n) cleared her throat.
"SO many things, (y/n), you were like the only puzzle piece that fits Vasilios's."
"You're SO full of shit, (f/n)."
"He was looking for someone he can control, easy to put a leash on. Vasilios is a 'top' looking for his 'bottom' that's obedient and stays obedient. He has a bunch of old-fashioned views too, such as: men are only allowed to chase after women, never the other way round, both men and women should not show too much skin when going outside, the woman should be completely dependent on the man, etcetera. You fit all of those like a glove."
You grimaced.
"Hey, although I am easy to control, it doesn't mean I appreciate it. This is supposed to be a two-way thing, I'm not gettin anything good outta this..." you start to frown.
"Too late! Anyways, I gotta go. Have fun with your 'top'!"
"Hey- what- ah, she hung up." You gently threw your phone onto your bed. You stood up and stretched, a few satisfying cracks resonated throughout your tiny room. You proceeded with the same old routine; freshen up, get dressed and grab a sandwich from a grocery store.
During the part where you changed your clothes, you realised that you forgot to take your baseball cap back. That placed you in a sour mood. Knowing there is nothing much you could do, you just sulk as you exit your apartment room.
-
"Forgot yer hat?" You got head locked by an older woman with greying hair. She gave you a noogie too.
"Ha ha ha, yeah." You struggled to break free from her iron grip. "Ain't no problem with that, right? Still gonna work?" The older woman finally lets go, you stumbled for a while then you fixed your hair.
"Of course, boss, money doesn't earn itself y' know." You replied. The older woman gave a big smile and patted you on the shoulders. "Attagirl."
With your back hunched, you put on your safety goggles and gloves before working on your current task. Your boss, seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm today. "What's wrong gal? Miss yer hat too much?" You pursed your lips as you saw a wooden plank in half.
"Yep. I lost it." Your boss gasped dramatically.
"You lost it? Howdya do that?" You grunt as you picked the fallen piece up. "Went on a date, left my cap there. A tragedy."
Your boss shook her head. "That's a shame." You nodded in agreement.
"Hey boss, familiar with the author, M. Evanet Vasilios?" You raised an eyebrow when your boss's face turns beet red in embarrassment. She giggled as she covers her face with her hands. "Did I say something wrong?"
"N-no it's just that... hey! How do you know that name?" She smirked at you. You were genuinely confused, is it a taboo to talk about it? "Had a friend recommending me about their books. Just wanna know what do you think about them."
"Ah. Looks like someone didn't do no researchin'. C'mere, let me show you what M. Evanet Vasilios writes." You followed your boss up a flight of dingy stairs, both of you are heading towards your boss's personal room. You gaped at boss's extensive collection of books, the bookshelves are even bigger than your whole apartment unit.
"Help yerself, girl! This whole bookshelf is all Vasilios's work!" You looked over the spines of the book where the titles are located. "Chocolate coated Cherries? What's this? A cookbook?" You pulled out that particular book just to expose your eyes to a very suggestive cover.
A picture of a smooth, flat belly with a single chocolate-coated cherry on its navel, you could see the shape of the under breasts on the top of the cover. You turned to the back cover of the book to see a picture of an unopened condom dipped in what you assumed is white chocolate sauce. You read the synopsis on the back. "When a modest chocolatier found something sweeter than the decadent treat, temptation augments itself to a new height. Will the chocolatier resist the devilish desire to bed the saccharine seductress? Or will he give in and indulge himself in the guiltiest of pleasures?"
You gave an incredulous look to your boss. "Don't look at me like that! An old gal like me gets lonely sometimes... well, most of the time. Don't you get randy too?" Her face turned scarlet. You scratched the back of your head.
"Actually boss, I just can't believe you can release all that tension usin' a remix of words. When I get 'randy' I watch porn, I don't need to flip through a dictionary just to understand they are doing doggy style." Your boss shot you a surprised expression after hearing your bold words.
"Oh! I-I see. Well, I prefer to 'get off' using Vasilios's creation. Its a feast for the reading minds like mine."
You nodded as you scanned through her extensive collection. "Is that... all he writes? Porn in words?"
The older woman giggled and nodded.
"Y'know, I heard Vasilios is quite the looker. Rumors have it that he 'writes about his own murders', if you know what I'm sayin'..." she teasingly wiggled her eyebrows. She then dreamily stared at her collection.
"God, wish I was one of his 'victims'."
You smiled and shook your head. "Oh well, it's probably her coping method when her husband passed." You shoved the thick book back into its original place.
"Eh, maybe his books are just not my glass of juice. The words are too small and deep, I don't even know half of the words in the synopsis. I'll stick to the classic bedtime story of John and the Legume trunk."