"Play."
Sy's voice dropped low with every note Kassan's fingers laid across the keys. Her hands moved in a steady rhythm, shifting between pedals — soft, then swelling into something longer and louder. Her whole body swayed with the music.
The notes came one after another, never broken into stiff chords. She didn't stop midway, because no one told her she was wrong this time. Her heart pounded with every glance from Sy. Still, she poured everything she had into it.
"Stop." Sy said, scribbling something across the sheet she held. "You've shown your potential. Good job." They exchanged a glance, and Sy left the room, giving Kassan space.
Kassan smiled and kept playing.
That night, they didn't sleep in separate rooms — just one. Dinner went smoother than it had in weeks. Sy didn't scold her for playing music past midnight either; instead, she quietly listened from the doorway.
•••
"Hey. Mornin', James." Kassan greeted him, then froze mid-wave at the sight of the second person standing beside him. "Ah — who's this, James?"
"My brother, Tristian Vlastos."
"Hello."
"Tristian, this is my boss, Kassandreau Dupen-Lee."
Tristian bowed. "Hello, Ms. Kassandreau."
Kassan smiled at how quickly he'd adopted the formal address.
"He'll be covering for me for a few days while I'm away on my trip."
"Is that so? Sounds interesting." Sy said, walking up beside Kassan. James glanced at her. Kassan arched a brow. "How is that interesting?" she asked, deadpan.
"We get to see how capable a newbie really is — in case James ever gets married and leaves us behind one day." Sy replied.
"James...? Married...?" Kassan stood there, visibly stricken, completely checked out.
"That's not happening, Ms. Ngawang." James said quickly.
"No guarantees."
"That's ridiculous."
"To you, maybe. I see possibilities."
"Um—" James groaned, fully resigned. There was no winning this argument with the woman his boss belonged to. He sighed.
"Fine. Whatever happens — take care of him the way you took care of me, Ms. Kassandreau. I'll be heading out."
"Oh, James..." Kassan launched into full theatrical despair, collapsing into his arms.
Were those real tears? Sy handed her a tissue and pulled her off him. "Bye, James."
He gave a small bow and headed for the door. "No — no! James! Don't leave me here, man! James — James..." A real drama queen. Honestly.
"Um, is Ms. Kassandreau alright?" Tristian asked hesitantly, watching her.
"Oh, ignore her — she's fine." Sy said. "Come on, let's eat breakfast." Tristian sat down, reluctant.
"Ms. Kassandreau...?"
"Don't worry about her. She'll eat once she's done with the breakdown. It's a normal cycle for them. Don't think too hard about it, newbie." Sy patted his shoulder, offering absolutely no real reassurance.
Sure enough, just as Sy predicted, Kassan was back at the table digging into her food the moment the breakdown ended. Tristian was already too rattled by his first impressions to expect anything sane from this household.
His first impressions, summarized:
Kassan — Dramatic comedian, somehow also the CEO.
Sy — Officially intimidating, but a genuinely sharp Artist Manager and Director of AUREXIS.
James — Calm and grounded, mostly because Tristian had only met the version of him outside this chaos.
Tristian wandered toward the gallery wall, looking over the framed photos, until one caught his eye — a print of two hands, red and blue ink pressed together. The image matched something he'd seen before, on his brother's phone background.
Kassan walked over and stopped beside him.
"What are you looking at?"
"I've seen this photo on my brother's phone too. Do you two know each other from before?" Tristian asked. Something flickered across her eyes — a quiet sadness settling over her face.
"It's a pretty long story, Tristian. Hasn't your brother told you?"
"I never got the chance to ask. Why don't you tell me instead?"
She gave a small nod. "It started back when we were both trainees... He was my first friend there. And my last."
~Flashback~
"Wrong chord. Again." The instructor barked, tapping the piano keys with a wooden stick. The blonde girl played again. "Ugh — stop! You need a lot more practice on your notes, Emma."
"Yes, sir." Her voice came out pale and small.
The instructor waved her off, scanning the crowd until his gaze landed on a frightened face. There she was.
"You — what's your name, boy?" He pointed his stick at Kassan. She barely managed to walk forward — pixie cut, black t-shirt, black pants, every detail hiding any trace of her gender. "Sir... I'm a girl." Kassan whispered, barely audible.
"Speak up." He snapped. She flinched. "I— I'm a girl, sir." A little louder this time. He raised his brows. "Oh. Not a boy? My mistake, dear."
He continued. "Do you know how to play?" Kassan nodded, hesitant. "Show me." She played a softer version of something simple. He didn't interrupt or scold her — just listened until she finished. He gave a small smile.
"Good. What's your name?"
"Kassan."
"Full name?"
"Kassandreau Dupen-Lee." she answered quickly. "Is that meant to be feminine?
Everything about you reads masculine, girl." He smirked, the mockery rippling through the room in laughter. Her fists curled into her shirt.
Head down, cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
"Alright, settle down. Who's next?" He moved on, completely unaffected, while Kassan retreated to a corner, knees pulled to her chest, chin tucked between them.
Class ended. New faces, new beginnings for everyone else. Students shook hands, formed quick friendships. Something in her wanted that too. But no one acknowledged she was even there — until Emma turned to her mid-conversation.
Emma smiled — not a kind one. "The masculine girl?" The words hollowed Kassan out instantly. The crowd erupted in laughter.
Emma stepped closer, a group of girls trailing behind her, arms crossed, eyes scanning her up and down. "So — do you eat like a girl or a boy?"
"Wait — are you intersex?"
"Ooh, now that'd be an interesting topic."
The girls laughed, cruel and casual, while Kassan stood frozen between every word. Head down, hands fisted in her pants, anxiety climbing through her chest.
"Hey, girls — what are you doing in here? Back to your dorms." A teacher from another department walked in, breaking it up. The girls shot Kassan a final smirk before scattering.
The teacher turned to her next. "You should head out too. This room is reserved for another department's practice session."
Kassan looked up at her with calm, ocean-blue eyes — a strange stillness in her despite everything. "Can I watch their practice?"
"Don't you want to rest?" the teacher asked. Kassan shook her head. "No. Can I stay?" The teacher gave a small nod.
"Sure — you can watch from over there."
"Thank you, miss." Kassan said, with a brief smile. The teacher walked off as a quiet crowd filtered into the room — all boys, all in black tailored suits, moving like a breeze that never announced itself.
"Alright, everyone settle in. We'll begin shortly." the instructor said. The boys took their seats, the same way the earlier group had — until the last boy sat down just a few feet ahead of her.
He turned around and smiled at her, easy and warm. Her heart kicked into something faster, something brighter rushing through her.
"Hey — why are you sitting all the way over there? Come join us." he said, the kind of smile that asked nothing in return. For a moment, Kassan forgot how to breathe, how to blink. He tilted his head. "You listening?"
She snapped back. Blinked twice. She looked at him. Her focus wavered, settling into normal, clear vision. Dark, vibrant brown eyes. Soft, plum-toned lips. A short nose, bright skin, hair cleanly gelled back. She blinked once more before finally answering.
"I'm from the musical department. I don't really belong over there."
"So what?" he said. "If you're going to watch us practice, you might as well sit with us. You don't have to belong to be welcome."
Something in her chest cracked open quietly. The place she actually came from had rejected her on sight. And here, in a place she'd never belonged, a complete stranger had simply made room.
She smiled — genuinely, for the first time that day. And sat beside him. He studied her for a second, like he already understood something about her.
"What's your name?" he asked, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around them, chin resting on top, eyes steady on her.
"Kassan." He held out his hand. "I'm James.
James Vlastos." Kassan went completely silent. Genuinely — someone was actually offering to shake her hand. She reached out, reluctant at first — but the second their hands met, something warm and unfamiliar spread through her.
Her smile widened. "From now on, we're friends." And just like that—
James became her first friend. And her last.
~ Tiny End ~
"And that's how James and I have stuck together since my debut — through everything, all the way to now." Kassan said, gazing at the album, unbothered. Tristian gave a small, soft smile.
"The next day was International Friendship Day. Everyone got gifts, bands, the works — except me. Then your brother dragged me into art class, painted both our hands, and pressed them onto a small board together.
That was my first ever friendship gift."
Kassan glanced at him and added, "You know, even after landing a solid job at a software company, he still chose to stay by my side."
He nodded slowly, then something clicked.
"Wait — were you the one giving him gifts every year on July 30th?!" Kassan smiled, confirming it. Tristian covered his mouth, raking a hand through his hair.
"Woman — you call those gifts?" he exclaimed, stunned. She smiled, a little awkward. "Aren't they?"
"No! A mansion? A cruise? A villa? An airport? And you gave him two percent ownership! That's enormous! How is any of that just a friendship gift?!" he shouted.
Kassan glanced at Sy, laughing. Sy walked in, patting his shoulder. "Honestly, compared to what your brother's done for us, those are small."
Tristian's jaw dropped. "How much more do you plan to spoil him with? He's already in the top 30 richest people!"
"Until he hits the top 10 — right next to us." Kassan replied, leaning in with a bright smile.
"So, Tristian — what's my schedule today?" Kassan asked. He raised his brows. "That's my job now?"
Confused, Kassan looked at Sy. Sy looked back at him, patting his shoulder. "Yes, it is."
"Isn't a bodyguard's job just to stand still and watch?"
Sy and Kassan exchanged a baffled glance.
"You're an EPA, Tristian." Sy said.
"A what now? Wasn't my brother just your bodyguard?"
"He was trained as an EPA — specifically for protecting high-profile individuals. You know?"
"Was he? I had no idea."
"He's your brother. How do you not know that?!"
"Fair point."
"Point, my foot." Kassan muttered, heading upstairs. Tristian glanced at Sy, puzzled.
"You'd better get the full rundown from your brother by tonight. We have a major deal closing this evening. Understood?"
He nodded as Sy walked off, keys spinning around her fingers. She pulled out her phone, texting Kassan.
Sy: See you soon at the company.
Kassan: Leaving already?
Sy: I have a meeting.