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People who liked to have iced drinks in January were so strange.

But then again, he was a fine one to talk when he always drank a steaming cup of coffee in the middle of the afternoon even during summer. And heaven knew that hot seasons in Perlientas were not a joke, especially these recent years. With the temperature playing around thirty-five to forty degrees Celsius, it was as if the city always transformed into a giant incinerator whenever the months of April and May came.

As he made his way to the office pantry, Laurence acknowledged it was still more reasonable to have something cold all year round in a place where locals considered a twenty-degree Celsius temperature already freezing.

He paused at the entrance and raked the area with his eyes. Cream-colored plastic chairs surrounded the two wooden long tables. A dual brewing machine and an electric kettle stood side by side on the benchtop.

Laurence approached the counter and picked up one of the black canisters labeled from loose tea leaves to brown sugar to every kind of pre-made beverage ingredient. He turned around to reexamine the place, taking note of the different kitchen appliances occupying the room. Everything the employees needed for their coffee and lunch breaks had been provided here, it seemed.

A completely different world from the construction site, Laurence figured.

He touched the lanyard around his neck before his hand found the ID badge. Flipping the card over, it revealed a bit of his employee details in addition to the photo of a young man with a conspicuous hairstyle. Florence Villena. Administrative Officer. Operations Department.

Two weeks. It had been that long since he had come home to the Villena residence and since Florence's father had told him he could go back to this workplace. Despite being initially reluctant because of his zero knowledge and experience in corporate jobs, he had found himself unable to resist the chance when he had learned about the company.

Laurence thumbed the texts on top of the ID.

ND Corporation. He might not have been that familiar with this business, but he was sure it was the same rising conglomerate that had purchased the construction firm where he had used to work.

The CEO's name on the back of the card just verified his conclusion.

Isaac Ruiz.

Laurence looked back to the time when his other best friend, Grey, had a casual conversation about this prominent person during a lunch break.

"Wanna hear some story 'bout the new big boss? That Mr. Ruiz that Engineer and Foreman have been talking about? They said he's a smartass who caused his old man's company to go bankrupt by growing his own business and competing against him."

"Heh, why'd he do that?" Laurence had asked, not really interested, before shoving half of the hard-boiled egg into his mouth.

"Who knows? Just some kinda rich family drama, I s'pose."

Mr. Isaac Ruiz was the same chief executive whom he and Kian were supposed to give their courtesy on the night their car had crashed on the way. And to think that Florence Villena had used to work for the same company just added to Laurence's intrigue after discovering that this body's original owner was also sent to the hospital on the thirteenth of January 2023.

He needed to know if all these connections he shared with the guy had any bit to do with the phenomenon that forced him into this curious situation. Laurence thought that if he had to find the answers to this whole mystery, he might as well start by digging deeper into Florence's past.

Was there something special about the young man that might have incited this peculiar incident? Why did it have to be the two of them?

"You're really back," came from behind, snapping Laurence out of his daydreaming.

The deepness of the voice lingered in his ears and hinted that the speaker was a guy. At the same time, the evidence of finesse was noticeable in the person's tone.

Turning to the source of the statement, Laurence found a taller man scrutinizing him through thin wire-framed glasses. Taller, he considered now, but he judged he might have had a few inches over this officemate if he was in his real body.

Laurence gave the man what he hoped was a discreet once-over. His gaze fell on the ID badge flashing the name Warren Buena before it drifted lower. Brown oversized cardigan and beige loose slack pants hid the person's limbs while a pair of high-heeled loafers added a couple of centimeters to his height.

Not so tall, after all.

Laurence looked back up, only to be greeted by an unimpressed expression on the other man's face. Fine creases showed in between Warren's thin brows as his small mouth pressed downward, the faint scowl reminding Laurence that he had yet to respond to him.

"Ah, yes." Laurence managed a polite smile and slightly bowed. "I'm sorry I can't remember anyone here yet. I hope you'll bear with me while I readjust to work and start to get to know everyone again."

Bustles from the other rooms met his words.

Wondering what made the other man quiet, Laurence raised his head. His shoulders stiffened when he noticed a shadow of contempt replacing the indifference in Warren's dark eyes.

The corner of the man's mouth twisted up in a sneer. "Looks like it's true that you lost all your memories. Here I thought you were just pretending to be ignorant about that stupid stunt..." He crossed his arms, the sleeves of his cardigan folding, and glanced sideways as if trying to read his next sentence from the wall. With a scoff, he continued, "What was it about jumping from the rooftop?"

Fingers twitching, Laurence narrowed his eyes. He didn't really care about this Warren guy's callous remarks; they had no real power over him since they were something intended for Florence. However, it was the haughty attitude that made him grit his teeth and refrain from hurling back a nasty retort. Big-headed bastard, Laurence hated this kind the most.

"Oh, sorry. Was I not supposed to bring that up?" Warren took some steps forward and brushed past Laurence to reach the brewing machine.

A tense silence filled the four corners of the pantry while Laurence fixed the other guy with a sharp stare.

After pouring himself a cup of hot coffee, Warren grabbed the small jar of creamer and added a scoop to the drink. He then faced Laurence again, one hand resting on the counter and the other bringing the rim of the cup to his mouth.

Hope you burn that bitchy tongue of yours.

Unfortunately, every single millimeter of Warren's being might have grown insensitive along with his personality, as he swallowed the coffee with ease like it was just cold water. He placed the cup on the benchtop, pulled a handkerchief out of his pants' pocket, and wiped the fog that had formed on his eyeglasses, all the time acting as if he could not be bothered with the presence of the other person in the room.

Tired of the display of conceit, Laurence chose to ignore him and focused on the task given to him, the reason he was here in the office pantry in the first place.

He operated the electric kettle. While waiting for the water to boil, he opened the cupboard and pulled out a clear mug with the calligraphic letters I and R impressed on it. He looked back at the counter to search for the canister marked with the words 'rooibos blend - I.R.'

No one dares to use any of those since they were reserved only for Mr. Ruiz, was what the CEO's secretary had told him.

From the corner of his eye, Laurence saw Warren still watching him, but he pretended not to notice. Just as he was about to open the particular jar, the unwelcome spectator spoke again.

"That's the CEO's tea."

Laurence couldn't stop the audible sigh from flying out of his lips. He didn't need to look at Warren to see the displeased expression on the guy's face.

"Right, Ms. Marian told me I could do these little tasks for now," he said, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"For sure." A scoff. "I mean, what else can you do now that you seem to have also forgotten how to do your job? Not as useful now, are we?"

Laurence heaved another sigh as he threw a spoonful of tea grounds into the kettle.

What do you want? he thought, observing the reddish color seep into the boiling water.

So it was true that his title in the office at the present was only for show. He could not do the things he never knew to begin with, and the 'amnesia' was a convenient excuse for not being able to carry out Florence's original job description.

If not for Ralph Villena, he might not have been able to get any clerical position here, let alone anything higher than an entry level. It seemed like Florence's father had enough influence at least in Human Resources that the department heads could turn a blind eye about Laurence doing the menial duties while keeping an official job title.

"Moving is not that easy for Ms. Marian nowadays because of her belly, so you could just do the tasks that involve a lot of walking around for her."

On paper, he was an administrative officer in the Operations Department. In reality, he was the assistant to the chief's pregnant assistant.

"Here's a friendly reminder from a senior who cares. It's not too late to change your mind about coming back here. For your own good and for everyone's."

Laurence blinked as Warren's unfriendly voice made him realize that he had spaced out again. The water in the kettle had completely turned dark reddish-brown.

You're still here?

Without uttering a word, Laurence walked to the built-in refrigerator and took out a tray of ice cubes. He dumped a few in the kettle to cool the water down; some went in the transparent mug.

"You'll only weigh us down if you stay." As Warren kept on sounding off, the annoyance in his tone grew more detectable.

Unable to ignore the man any longer, Laurence sighed for the third time. He figured Warren didn't like Florence for whatever reason. Pretty normal, he'd say; one could not just expect everyone to like them. Still, he found it absurd how someone could talk like this to a colleague they hadn't seen in a year.

There seemed to be a number of unfeeling people who used to surround Florence, including his father. The poor guy might have made it easy for them to intimidate him in the past. But if this toxic bunch thought that it would be the same this time, they had another think coming.

Because Laurence Villegas was not the type to take humanity's bullshit sitting down.

"Aren't you even ashamed—"

"Hey, I've yet to know who you are, ain't I?" Laurence cut off, pouring the tea into the mug filled with ice. A dry smirk tugged on his mouth as he spotted the brief dilation of the other man's eyes.

The surprised expression lasted for a short moment, and then Warren was schooling his features back to nonchalance. Even so, he could not hide the clenching of his jaws. "I believe you already saw my name."

"Heh, sorry, didn't seem like you were some kinda hotshot that I'd learn something else just by knowing your name. But I can tell you're not one of the busy people, seeing that you've got so much free time wasting here."

"You... you dare... to me." Warren glared. "Have you gone crazy?"

Laurence shrugged, enjoying the sight of the guy's ears turning red with rage. "Might be. Must be 'cause I hit my head so hard when I had the incident." Ah, who knew riling up these high-and-mighty jerks could be so much fun?

Before Warren had the chance for retaliation—if he had any—another female employee got in between their exchange.

"Mr. Buena, Mr. Frias is looking for you."

The minor interruption must have provided Warren enough time to recompose himself. He straightened his posture and fixed the invisible wrinkles in his cardigan. Walking past Laurence, he muttered, "Whatever, just try not to get in my way again this time."

Warren exited the pantry with the woman following him behind. As soon as they were gone, Laurence thought back to the atmosphere he had observed first thing upon arriving here this morning.

This place might have been equipped with top-quality resources, which employees were free to utilize, and while there were a few people like Ms. Marian who apparently enjoyed their job here, Laurence could not help but sense the stronger vibe of gloom from other workers. It was as if a majority of them were out to compete with each other or to prove something big that they could not spare a single second to loosen up.

Laurence turned his eyes upward and frowned at the ceiling. The overall environment on the construction site had been way better. At least the view of the sky had always helped ease off his tiredness.

After everything he had witnessed in only a couple of hours and the encounter with Warren, Laurence now understood Engr. Abel's answer one time he had been asked why he preferred to be in the field, suffering under the heat of the sun, instead of staying within the comfort of his air conditioner in his department's office.

That day, their superior had told them, "Office, you call it, but it's something else. It's hell with air coolers."