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A gleaming light coming from the small crack between the grand curtains shone directly on Dylan’s eyes as he woke up. He was about to reach for a glass of water that he would always leave on the desk next to him in the apartment, but then he realized he had moved, and was now living in one of the richest families’ homes. His throat was dry and his eyes felt as if they were glued closed. He hadn’t slept so soundly in years.

A knock at his new bedroom door startled him.

“Mr. Dylan Cha?”

“Mmmmgh. Come in,” Dylan replied lazyly as he stretched his legs, delighted to see that his toes could no longer touch the foot of his bed. He finally had a bed fit for his size. A lady came inside, wearing a uniform similar to the one Dylan saw in the movies.

“Good morning,” she said politely. She was clearly trained to act this nicely, even to somebody who had no class, like Dylan.

“Good morning to you too.”

She handed over a piece of paper. These wealthy people always went straight to the point. It was the contract and Mars’s schedule. The contract was simpler than expected. It explained that Mars McKenna was not to know about it and that Mars was to be Dylan’s number one priority. Many other things were about his meals and hospitality.

But the last part shook him a little. It said to observe Mars McKenna physiological state. Dylan smirked. He knew there was definitely something more to the deal than just being a friend. But he was a romance novelist, so he was confident he was pretty much a relationship expert who could see through anyone.

“What’s on the menu?”

“Mrs. and Mr. McKenna made me your personal assistant, therefore I will accommodate your needs as much as I am told to.”

“Okay… I’ll just go with oatmeal.”

The lady left quietly, walking perfectly straight, tall and elegant. Before she opened she opened the door, Dylan stopped her, holding her shoulder.

“I forgot to ask,” he said. “What’s your name? Oh. Nevermind it’s on your uniform. Michelle, since we’ll see each other everyday, let’s be friends.”

This was his first step in befriending Mars. If Mars knew Michelle, things could be easier. It wouldn’t have hurt to have a mutual friend. She blushed.

“Mrs. and Mr. McKenna made me your personal assistant, therefore I will accommodate your needs as much as I am told to.”

Dylan chuckled. “I guess they only let you say some lines and nothing else?”

Michelle left the room and closed the door without a word. Dylan wasn’t disappointed, though. He had seen this same scene in so many stories. He was going to get her on his side. How hard could fooling a rich person be?