All of this mess is happening because I’m refusing to drink alcohol after all. I have only tried beer before, so I have no clue how high the alcohol content of soju is. Will I get drunk after I drink this? I’m about to find out.

I pick up the glass slowly. I stare at the clear liquid for a moment, my pulse is gradually rising as the anxiety sinks in. I can’t back out now. I’m about to put my lips on the rim of the glass when a hand stops me from proceeding. Surprised, I turn to my side and notice Brennan is now sitting an inch closer to me. He gives me a reassuring smile before taking the soju glass out of my hand.

“I don’t think you should drink that when you’re not feeling well, Soren,” Brennan says, looking concerned.

Wait— what?

Kayden clearly hears it. “Huh? Soren is sick?”

“Yeah, his stomach has been acting up since this morning. I know because I was the one who bought him medicine back at the office,” Brennan replies smoothly. “It wouldn’t look good on me if my own mentor didn’t attend my welcome party, so Soren has been pushing himself through the pain to come.”

I stare at Brennan in disbelief and confusion. What kind of nonsense is he spouting right now?!

“Is that true, Soren?” Amani suddenly asks.

“A-Ah! W-Well…”

It’s definitely going to complicate things even further if I answer truthfully now, so I just meekly nod.

“I see.” Amani’s gaze softens. “Don’t worry about us, you should go back home and get some rest. You should call an Uber rather than taking the subway for tonight.” He smiles at me. “Then, we’ll see you on Monday, okay?”

My conscience is killing me with guilt.

I nod again, feeling ashamed to utter a word of answer. As I stand up, Brennan—for some reason—also follows suit and everyone on the table is giving him a questioning look.

"Are you going back home too, Brennan? Amani asks.

"Oh, no. Not at all. I just want to accompany Soren while he waits for his Uber since I’m worried about his condition. I’ll be back soon,” Brennan assures them. Everyone seems happy with that answer.

As we both leave, I take a quick glance back at our table and see Kayden rubbing the back of his neck with a troubled face—guilty, even. I’m not certain since reading people’s emotions is not my expertise. Before I can confirm it, Brennan and I have already exited the restaurant and are greeted by the cold New York night. It crosses my mind that I can take the subway home as planned now I’m out here, away from my coworkers’ prying eyes. However, after what has transpired back there, I just want to go straight home and lay on my bed.

I take out my phone, immediately open the app to book an Uber. While I’m doing this, Brennan leans in and startles me. I automatically take a step back away from him. I almost forgot that he’s here too.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Brennan says apologetically. “How long until your Uber arrives?”

“... The app said it will be around 8-10 minutes.”

“I see.”

We both stare at each other. None of us make a sound, except for the bustling noise in the busy streets of New York in the background. Looking at Brennan’s composed face, many questions come through my mind. The lump in my throat is getting unbearable that I've finally decided to spit it out.

“Why did you help me back there?” I ask flatly. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but it would have turned out awkward if they found out it was a lie.”

Brennan chuckles, his voice is calm. "It’s fine. If it does go south, I’m sure I will figure something out.”

“... You’re strange. I don’t know why you would go out of your way to treat me so kindly.”

Brennan gives me a blank look. “Then, do you want me to be mean to you?”

I freeze. I didn’t expect him to throw that question at me. When he put it that way, my statement does sound outrageous. I mean, everyone (including myself) would prefer people treat them nicely than not. It’s common sense, after all. From how I see him interact with our coworkers, Brennan seems to be the type who treats everyone equally, and that sentiment apparently applies to me as well.

… I’ve messed up. Did I just unintentionally insult Brennan and his character?

“Soren…,” he suddenly calls me, which snaps me back to reality. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh… sure?”

Brennan takes a breath. “Is there a reason why you purposely push everyone away?”

…

… what?

"I'm sorry for asking a personal question when we're not close, but I can’t pretend to not notice anymore,” Brennan continues. His face is determined. “I have heard many different things from our coworkers regarding you. You’re reliable, responsible, and competent when it’s about work or projects; however, in private, you’re cold, self-absorbed, and refuse to engage with anyone beside the bare minimum.”

I keep my mouth shut, listening to every word. I’m trying my best to keep a poker face, but I’m not sure if it looks convincing in his eyes. I can feel a knot in my stomach. Alarm bells keep ringing in my head, telling me to cover my ears or just leave right now, but I can’t seem to move my legs. It feels like I’m frozen in place.

“... After spending time with you at the office, I realize that none of it is true,” Brennan pauses for a second, collecting his thoughts. “Rather than cold, I think you’re just afraid. You’re afraid to be vulnerable in front of others, so you deliberately put up walls around everyone close to you to conceal your true feelings.”

“...N-No, y-you’re wro-...”

I’m barely able to utter a word when Brennan speaks again.

“Soren, if it’s fine with you, would you like to take a chance with me?”

“... Huh?”

What did he just say?

A genuine smile forms on his face. “I would like to get to know you better, not only as coworkers. Of course, I don’t expect us to immediately become friends and we can just do it at your pace that you’re comfortable with.” Brennan extends his right hand to me. “What do you think?”

I stare blankly at his hand. The shock I feel has subsided, then anger starts to sink in. Without thinking, I slap his hand away from me and glare furiously at Brennan, who’s stunned by my unexpected reaction.

“I DON’T NEED YOUR PITY!” I yell, loud enough to gain attention from confused passerbyers. At that moment, I didn’t care about the disturbance I’m causing in public (which is out of character for me). The rush of emotions I’m currently experiencing seems to block any rationality. “Don’t act as if you understand me! You barely even know who I am as a person! Everything you’re doing right now is not out of kindness, but to stroke your own ego!”

Brennan looks taken aback at my outburst. “No! You’ve misunderstood, Soren!”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” I yell again, taking a few steps back away from him. Not long after, I hear a car honking in my direction. I turn to look and see my Uber has finally arrived. “My Uber is here. You should go back to the party now.”

Brennan is quiet. His expression is unreadable.

“... I don’t want to make things awkward between us in the office, especially when you’re still under my guidance. That’s why I’ll pretend this conversation never happened to save both of us from any trouble,” I tell him without making any eye contact. “Just… promise me not to bring this up anymore in the future. Do you understand?”

I don’t wait for his reply as I enter the back of my Uber and instruct the driver to depart immediately, leaving Brennan at the side walk. I don’t look back, so I’m not sure if Brennan is still standing there, or he has gone back inside the restaurant. 

After minutes on the road, I can feel the tension in my body has eventually died down. I lay on my back on the passenger seat, squeezing my eyes shut, and taking a deep breath. I lift both of my now trembling hands to cover my face. When I finally manage to calm myself down, realization sinks in and a lot of different emotions start to attack me in every direction.

Regret. Shame. Anguish. Anxiety. Dread. Self-loathing.

This is the first time I have lost control of my own emotions like this. Why did I react so strongly to his words? I definitely have gone too far. I know he meant well when making those suggestions, yet—instead of being thankful—I yell and scream at him like a toddler having a fit and embarrass him in public. Brennan didn’t deserve that.

A tear trickles down my cheek; I wipe it off quickly before the driver notices it. I let out a heavy sigh. I turn my focus on the running scenery out of the car window, trying to distract myself from the guilt and pain which are residing in my heart.

I wish Monday would never come.