{Bonus Chapter} - Byron

{Byron Morrish} -- Back Story:

My mother named me Byron, which I think is weird because it means "barn". Why would my mother name me barn? I thought it was a pretty lousy name, then I thought "How many people are actually named Byron the Barn?" No one. That's another thing that made me different. I had many features that set me apart from everyone else. I mean, everyone has qualities that set them apart but everyone wants something.

Everyone would say "I will work really hard." or "I'm the best at what I do." So in a sense, everyone is the same. We all say the same things. But some can say that they will work harder than the next guy but would they actually show it? What about when they don't show hard work, they would get cut from the job and then they would cry rivers, trying to redeem themselves, trying to make the person that cut them feel bad. But I think they fail to realize is that no one cares. No one cares that they cry themselves to sleep except for their family and/or their friends.

That's what set me different. I understood that simple rule of life that everyone ignores. If I went for a job interview, I never said I would work hard. The interviewee already knows that you'll work hard. I would tell them my best attributes, my weak ones, and I wouldn't sugarcoat anything, which was the opposite of what you're taught to do when you go for an interview.

The only problem I had was that I got fired frequently because I was so different. I did exactly what I told them from the beginning. I did nothing different. Even my mother eventually had a problem with how I did everything different from my siblings.

I did plenty of jobs. From business man to barista to artist. Then for a while, 4 years to be exact, I was a male model. It paid the bills, it was very awarding too. I had lots of benefits. My fame was minor, I wanted it that way. I thought, if I ever get fired from this job, I don't want to be mobbed by paparazzi when I was walking down the street, looking for another job.

My childhood wasn't bad at all. I had a happy childhood. A little heartbreak here and there but overall, it wasn't bad. I had lessons learned from my parents but what they failed to teach me was how the world worked. After college I had a rude awakening about the world, thinking the world was beautiful when in reality, it was ugly in many ways.

Eventually, I got used to all the rejection that I faced. I thought that if I acted like everyone else, saying that I'll work harder than the next guy that I'll get accepted. When I realized that it didn't work, I started picking up my old habits. It seemed to get me somewhere but I didn't completely understand the world yet. There is no one else like yourself. I wish someone would've told me that sooner. I guess that's also how life works, you have to figure things out on your own.

"Hey Rick, I'll take a newspaper. Throw a Hershey chocolate in there too." I said to the newstand guy named Rick. When I got my stuff I handed Rick 4 dollars. An extra 2 dollars as a tip. I made my way to the bench next to a vendor that sold amazing Belgium waffles. I ate my chocolate quietly, starting to get bored. I finally found the job listings page as soon I finished my chocolate.

I started to read when I saw a beautiful woman at the vendor's stand next to me. I stared at her from the coner of my eye. Sometimes looking away to make it seem like I wasn't looking at her. Once she finished getting her Belgium waffle, I scooted over.

"Need a seat?" I asked her, trying to be a gentleman. Once she sat down next to me, I noticed her ring.

"That's a nice ring you have on," I said, thinking she was married. I picked my paper back up, kind of disappointed.

"Oh, thanks, it was my mother's" she said. I looked at her surprisingly. Why wouldn't any guy want to be with her? She was just gorgeous.

"Wow, its very beautiful..." I said looking her up and down, "very beautiful." I hoped she didn't get the feeling I was calling her beautiful. I wanted to keep that on a down low. Maybe I was smoother than I thought.

After some minutes of silence, I picked my paper back up then heard her voice.

"Are you looking for a job...?" she motioned in a way that gave me a hint that she was asking for my name.

"I'm Byron Morrish and yes I'm looking for a job. I lost my job the other day. Well I quit." I lied. I didn't want her to think I was a jobless deabeat when that was the complete opposite.

"Oh? Why'd you quit?" She asked, moving a bit closer to me. I put the paper down, paying more attention to her.

"I'm just going to say that they didn't appreciate my talents good enough." I smirked. It was technically true. The modelling agency was eventually going to fire me. I knew that was a fact.

"Well, I'll be happy to appreciate your talents. Would you like to work at my house as a butler? $20 per hour, weekly?" she asked me. My eyes grew with surprise. A butler. Why didn't I think about that job before? She doesn't even look like someone that would ask a complete stranger into her home. That was kind of careless but at the same time, she looks wise. She was a people person, I could tell. She knew who to stay away from and who to speak to.

"How about overtime?" I had to ask. I need a little bit of extra cash on me every now and then.

"Overtime..." she hesitated with thought. "Overtime will be determined ahead of time. Overtime pay would be an extra $15 per hour."

Hm. That didn't sound too bad. She knows what a jobless person likes to hear. "Sounds good, when do I start?" I said folding up the job listings.

She told me that she'd email me the details later on and that she had to go. I gave her my email and watched her leave. A day later, she emailed me the details. I would start a week from now with no overtime yet, with her address at the end of the email.

I worked at her house for a week, no interruptions.  I wanted to keep this a business realtionship only.

"Where do you want this imported plate?" I asked. She looked up from a magazine to see me holding the plate playfully. She jumped up so quickly and ran over to me, trying to grab the plate but I swung his arm up, making it harder for her to reach the plate.

I started to laugh at her. "Stop, you're gonna drop it!" a hint of playfulness in her voice. She wasn't take me serious, good.

"Why are you so short?" I laughed while she was jumping to reach the plate. That's when she stepped on his foot by accident, which hurt so much. I started to stumble, wrapping my arm around her waist to find balance, almost dropping the plate as well with our faces a few inches away from each other.  Time seemed to stop. She was so beautiful. I couldn't stop myself now.

My lips brushed agaisnt her for a moment. I stopped before I could've made more contact. I pulled away from her.

"Where do you need this plate?" I was more serious now. Not wanting that to happen again.

"In the display pantry please." she said. I made my way to the display pantry when I started to hear her talk on the phone. Once I finished, I walked back to living room, about to ask her something then she stopped me.

She seemed to be looking for something while she was talking on the phone. She looked so frantic, it was kind of funny to watch. I just stood there, waiting for her to give me some instructions or atleast tell me what was happening.

Once she hung up the phone, she started took my coat from the coat rack and started to push me out of the house through the back door.

"Hey wait what are you doing?! I have 2 hours and 30 minuets left!" I said, looking at my watch.

"I know, I know! I just need you to leave now," she opened the back door, "I won't deduct it from your pay check, I need you to leave quietly and efficiently, be quick about it too. Do not ask questions now, I'm in a rush." she spoke quickly.

He turned around, "Who was that on the phone? Someone important?" I asked. I was really curious now, did something bad happen?

"I just said don't ask questions!" I heard the door open and someone drop keys on the table. I slanted my head. What was going on? She then pushed me out of the house, closing the curtains to signify to not knock on the door. I turned around and followed her instructions. Walking to my car. What was she hiding?

~ End of Chapter ~