The car hums quietly as it glides down the street, the headlights cutting through the dark.

In the front seat, Racheal's hands are tightly gripping the wheel, her knuckles pale.

Beside her, her husband, Joe, keeps glancing nervously at the rearview mirror, where their , CEO, Tanner O'Brien sits in silence.

"I am so sorry sir," Rachael says, her voice high-pitched with concern. "I don't know how this happened. The hotel was supposed to_well, they assured us the reservation was confirmed, and now…" She lets out a soft, frustrated sigh, trailing off as she glances at Joe for support.

"We actually confirmed it right before your arrival sir, I don't know how things got entangled during that short time," Joe mutters, his own discomfort is evident.

The tension in the car is palpable, and it seems to press down on them, making the air feel heavier with every passing second.

Tanner, however, remains composed in the backseat, his posture straight and unbothered. He doesn't react to their repeated apologies, doesn't even shift his gaze from the window.

His face is strikingly handsome_angular features, a strong jawline dusted with a faint shadow of stubble, and eyes that seem almost too intense for anyone to hold eye contact with for long.

His hair is dark, swept back with precise care, and there's an almost unsettling stillness to him, as if he's always in control of everything around him, and everyone within it.

He's dressed head-to-toe in black_his turtleneck tight against his throat, black trousers that seem to have been tailored just for him, and a long black trench coat draped over his shoulders.

"Please, stop apologizing,"  his voice breaks through the tension, calm, low, and even.

He doesn't raise it to address them, but his words settle around the car like a firm hand on their shoulders. "It's not necessary. These things happen. I'm fine , as I said , I just need somewhere to rest till tomorrow, we've all had a long day , we can find another hotel tomorrow." He adds .

He's always been like this_distant. Tanner is known for keeping people at arm's length, especially in situations like this, where there's an implicit expectation of warmth or comfort.

But his discomfort with physical proximity is no secret; people learn quickly that he does not like to be touched , hugged or those sorts of things.

Even a handshake, brief as it may be, feels like an imposition to him.

"We're here sir." Joe says the moment the car comes to a stop infront of their house.

"Thank you" Mr. O'Brien says getting out of the car .

He realises that he is being overwhelming so he decides to be a little bit casual. "Mr. Miller , I must say I like the design of your home, did you buy it or you had it made yourself?"

"Thank you sir , Uh.. we just bought it." 

"You can call me Tanner , it's fine." Even if he thinks he's being casual , his voice would still drive chills in anyone around.

*●●In the house, Tyler has been in his room all day dying of boredom since the campus is on a holiday and his twin sister_Tayler won't let him in her room to hang out , and he couldn't contact his newly found boyfriend because he told him that he was having an event at the company today so he was gonna be busy all day.

And because Tyler doesn't want to come out as clingy to him, he decided not to contact him until his boyfriend contacts him first.

The moment he hears the car outside, he rushes out of his room, happy that finally, he will have someone to talk to and to bother _ his parents.

His face lightened up by the buoyant smile , he descends the stairs, a glass of juice in his hand.

"Finally! You're home! You guys have no ide..." he begins cheerfully, his words catching mid-sentence.

His feet falter on the last step as his gaze locks onto the figure standing beside his parents.

The glass slips from his hand, shattering on the floor. He doesn't flinch. His chest tightens, his breath hitches. The world tilts, reality spiraling away.

The man standing there is someone he knows. Someone whose very presence feels like a storm crashing through the fragile calm of his life.

Their eyes meet, and the air between them seems to hum with an unspoken, heavy history. Neither looks away.

Joe and Rachael exchange uneasy glances, their concern palpable. "Tyler? Tyler you alright?" Rachael asks, her voice gentle but probing.

But Tyler barely hears her. His voice is low, disbelieving. "I'm definitely dreaming," he mutters, shaking his head as if the motion will snap him out of whatever cruel illusion this is.

Without another word, he turns on his heel, bounding back up the stairs two at a time, leaving the fragmented glass and the stunned silence of the room behind.

Tanner_ CEO , remains rooted in place, his expression unreadable but tinged with surprise.

°

" Uh sir , don't mind him , he can really be dramatic sometimes, that's my son, Tyler."  Rachael explains to Tanner who confirms his doubts by the name he has just been told.

" This way, please.." Racheal shows him the way to the guest room that is also upstairs but to the far end from Tyler and Taylor's rooms, he follows her quietly .

Racheal opens the door exposing a well arranged and almost empty room, just a well made bed , a couch and bedside table.

"If you need anything please let me know sir." she says after giving some few explanations,  "Dinner will be ready in a few I suppose , we'll just bring it up here so that you won't have to bother coming down stairs." 

"No, thank you , am fine for now, I won't be need anything until tomorrow morning."  He says.

Racheal leaves the room closing the door behind her after wishing him a good night.