"Man, I'm soon thirsty~"
The creditor, legs crossed, raised his voice loud enough to make sure he got attention..And as always, the little one turned around.
Rock was still annoyed at Deedee for giving Star the phone, but the kid clearly looked more alive since he started calling home again. The poor brat had no friends anyway and stuck to Rock so closely that people started assuming they were a couple.
Star had recently picked up two new hobbies: calling home… and gossiping with Deedee like a pair of giggling school kids. But the worst-case scenario the brat contacting that useless ex still hadn't happened.
"Mom, I'll talk to you later. My boss is calling… Love you."
Star walked in with a small frown. He had already told Rock his mom called.
"Water," he said, handing the glass over.
Today the big boss wore a red Hawaiian shirt with buttons undone down to his navel, casually flashing the kind of firm chest a smaller guy like Star could never compare to.
"Why the sour face? Got a phone now and suddenly you're too good to talk to me?" Rock sneered like always.
"You… saw that? Are you wearing contacts today?" Star asked he wasn't the one who put them on.
"Forget it. You wanted to say something, right?" Rock drank half the glass and set it down.
"Um… can I talk about money?"
"What? Workin' off your debt is tiring already?"
"I can handle the work, but normally I send money home and…"
"And what?"
"I was wondering if there's any extra job something aside from your tasks. I need cash… real cash."
"You that free? I don't even have to order you and you still work. And for the record, I'm not reducing your debt. …How much?"
"Anything is fine. Just something I can send home. Things are a bit…"
"No." The deep voice cut him off instantly.
"…Okay. I won't ask anymore. I'll get back to work."
The small one lowered his gaze, already expecting the worst. Maybe Deedee would know something.
Grab.
Star's wrist was pulled back. He lifted his face, meeting Rock's eyes..
Eyes that felt like they were staring right through him. Rock spoke quietly, giving Star a shred of hope.
"I didn't say I'd give it for free."
"Huh?"
"Wash the new car. It just came off the cargo ship. I hate that container smell."
"But I always wash your.."
"Take it or leave it."
"Take it! I'll take it!"
A red Lamborghini.
Oh no. Not that model again !
Star stood staring at the massive red supercar, the brand's emblem practically burned into his memory.
A brand-new Lamborghini.
Custom red paint.
Limited edition.
"Rock… are you sure I won't break it? Can't I wash a different one?"
"There is no other new one. What do you want me to do summon another car from thin air? Learn to love my car the way I love it. Every time you wash one, your face looks like you're about to take a dump."
Two mismatched silhouettes bickered beside the car. Star had way too much trauma with luxury cars; he hated supercars with all his soul.
"You can even see my face today?" Star asked.
"Don't start twisting things. The more you hate it, the more you need to face it because your creditor loves it. Now wash every corner."
"Then why're you sitting here? The water's gonna splash on you."
"You planning to wash the car or play water festival? I'm checking on an employee I'm paying what's wrong with that?"
"Wouldn't it be better to let a professional handle it? Otherwise I'll be late cooking dinner…"
"You're dodging."
"I just showered… I don't wanna get wet."
"Oh no, not that act again. If you don't wanna get wet, then wash it naked."
"Oh—can I? Then let me just.."
"HEY—I was joking! Keep your shirt on!"
"Come on, Rock, I'm wearing white today…"
"You're gonna get soaked anyway. Stop whining or I'll make you sleep in the garage. Wanna try?"
"…No, sir."
Facing fear was never simple rich or poor, everyone had their own demons.
Rock watched the small figure shuffle toward the expensive car like he was marching to his own funeral. Star never touched, never admired, never cared about supercars no matter how obsessed everyone else was.
Maybe that was what made him interesting. Rock knew Star hated cars… ironic, considering cars were the reason they even met.
Water sprayed everywhere like he was watering plants instead of washing a fifteen-million-baht machine.
Star coated the car in thick white foam until the red vanished, scrubbing with a premium microfiber cloth like he was polishing a cooking pot.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeak.
"STAR! That car costs fifteen million, not fifty baht! Stop playing and wash it properly! I asked you to wash the car, not compete in a water-fight!"
The familiar voice echoed through the huge garage, making the tiny debtor turn around.. Completely drenched. And because he was wearing white…He might as well have been naked.
The bright red boxer shorts under his shorts were in full display.
"Yessir~"
His weak, soulless reply drifted out as he flopped forward onto the hood like he was embracing Rock's beloved car. He wiped gently too gently while mumbling nonstop like someone having a nightmare.
"Rock… I don't have any strength. Every time I see a car that looks like the one that put me in debt… I just wilt."
"Star, I'm wearing contacts, and I can see very clearly what you're doing to my baby. Stop rubbing yourself all over it!"
"Oh—so you can see me?"
"Wash it properly and I'll give you ten thousand. You can send it to your mom."
Rock rolled his eyes, watching him in bafflement. He'd never met anyone who hated supercars this much. The brat pulled the foam hose again, showering the entire car until the foam piled up like snow. He played with it, smeared it, wrestled with it never once taking the job seriously. The garage turned completely white no hint of red left. And then he smiled.
Hands on hips, admiring his own chaos. What kind of pose is that? Why does he look so satisfied like a triumphant wife who just slapped the mistress?