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"The CEO wanted to see me in his office?"

Marian smiled, but the concern that floated in her gentle stare did not escape Laurence.

"It's about the weekly management report you submitted this Tuesday. Mr. Ruiz noticed there was an inconsistency with one of the attached expense reports," the pregnant assistant said from her seat behind her station. "Well, granted, it was an oversight on the finance department's part, but it's still our responsibility to counter check all the papers they submitted to us before finalizing the summary. I told Mr. Ruiz I was the one who made the mistake, but he wouldn't believe me since it was your signature he saw that was attached to the report."

She swiveled on her chair, tapped the end of her ballpoint pen against the thin stack of paper on the desk, and let out a soft exhale. "I'm sorry, Florence, dear. I should have reviewed your work first before giving the go signal to forward it to him."

Guilt poking at Laurence's chest, he matched the older woman's regretful expression. "No, Ms. Marian. I should be the one to apologize. You didn't have any shortcomings. You did your best to teach me well, but I still screwed—I still slipped up."

"What are you saying? You've been doing a good job, that's why I was confident you would be fine even without my guidance anymore. But, well, of course, it was inevitable to make those careless errors, especially since you're still getting used to working again. I even told Mr. Ruiz I was going to take responsibility for it. No big deal, it was just a small mistake. And I asked him to let me be the one to talk to you and advise you to be more meticulous in looking over the other departments' reports, but I don't know..." Marian creased her brows and tipped her head slightly to the side. "He seemed so decided to bring you to account."

"I think it's only fair," Laurence muttered, tasting the tinge of bitterness in his tongue. "He must be thinking how else I'm supposed to learn for the next time if I don't take any consequences now. I'm going in, Ms. Marian."

"Okay, but whatever he's going to say, if he's going to lecture you, please don't take it too personally, alright? Our young boss may sound stern sometimes, but it's only because he has his employees' best interests at heart, and he wants everyone to improve for their own good."

Laurence nodded, a small, genuine smile gracing his lips as Florence's written opinion of Isaac materialized in his head. He rounded the secretary's counter and went to the closed room behind it. A bit on edge, he took a deep breath, knocked three times against the door of the CEO's office before pushing it open.

Isaac was out of his work table when Laurence entered. The young boss stood in front of the long ebony desk at the right side of the room, inspecting the leaves of the potted plants.

"Ms. Marian said you wanted to talk to me, sir."

Straight-faced, the CEO regarded his employee and motioned his hand to the folder next to the flowering kalanchoe.

Laurence drew near Isaac and picked up the filed documents. He leafed through the papers until he arrived at the inaccurate expense report. A red pen marked the bottom row of the printed Excel table, encircling some figures while a note was scribbled on the corner: One of the entries has no receipt. Numbers don't match the total, but the grand total tallied. Forced balance?

"I already talked to the one who prepared that report. I understand these mistakes happen sometimes, and that's exactly why these papers go through levels of review to ensure their accuracy before they reach me. To think that not only was that small error overlooked, but it was also copy-pasted to the summary..." As if his disappointment made it hard for him to finish his sentence, Isaac faced the plants and took out a wilted leaf of begonia. "There are only a couple of weeks before Marian's maternity leave, but at this rate, how can we entrust her assistant duties to you if you can't even do this one thing right? What else do you know aside from making coffee and photocopying documents?"

Because he believed what Marian had told him earlier about doing a good job and because he had confidence in his competency to adapt, Laurence let Isaac's blunt questions go in one ear and out the other. He figured it would be quicker to end the conversation the sooner he apologized and promised to be more thorough in validating all the documents in the future.

But Laurence wasn't spared the chance to say anything, as the young CEO kept talking.

"Well, I guess at least you seem to be knowledgeable about plants because you know the name of a Chinese money tree. But what's the point of learning those useless things if you can't even do your actual job properly? That was a simple task that even a grade school could pick up."

Laurence placed the documents back on the table. Perhaps it was the personal statements striking a chord. Perhaps it was the memories they stirred that made him grind his teeth and fist his hands.

Irked, he momentarily forgot his circumstances. "They ain't useless. Saying there's no point in learning about plants and flowers, are you looking down on people whose work revolves around it?"

The whir of the air cooler was loud amidst the quietness. Despite the cold temperature of the room, heat engulfed Laurence's skin and gathered on his cheeks.

"I don't understand why that's the part you seem to be most upset about," Isaac said, his face still void of emotion.

No longer listening to his boss, Laurence asked, "Or are you implying it's stupid to learn the stuff you can't really use in your daily living? That it's like learning those stupid algebra equations when all you need is elementary arithmetic to compute your groceries and bills?"

A hot lump jammed in his throat as his surroundings faded away and scenes from more than a decade ago flashed before his eyes. In an instant, Laurence found himself back in one of his favorite places when he was a kid.

Sunrays seeped through the glass walls, shining upon the collection of vibrant blooms inside the room. As the door opened, a gentle breeze blew and spread the mild, sweet scent with a powdery note in the area. Leaves and petals danced at the same time as the pink and purple feathers of the dreamcatcher swung side by side by the entrance.

People of different appearances, different genders, and different ages came in now and then. A petite woman in a floral summer dress welcomed the guests with a bright smile. She was like a spring nymph, enchanting everyone with her pleasant laughter and charming stories, while she assisted them in browsing through the store.

Hiraya Gardening and Flower Shop had been a go-to destination for those who wanted to give meaningful presents to their loved ones. Tales, as colorful as the flowers, had been told in this place. Various concerns had been shared.

And young Laurence had witnessed a lot of expressions from satisfied customers leaving the shop.

The beam of a little boy cradling a bunch of carnations on Mother's Day.

The twinkle in the eyes of a bride-to-be as she walked out with her bouquet of pink roses and peonies.

The dreamy look of a lad who planned to slip a gardenia flower into his secret crush's desk.

The faint smile of a young lady staring at the purple hyacinth she wished to give to a friend she'd wronged.

The grin of a new business owner as he held the pot of pilea.

The closure in the face of a teary-eyed mourner embracing the basket of peace lilies and white daisies.

Laurence shut his eyes as he felt them begin to burn. When he opened them again, the view of Isaac giving him an impassive gaze greeted him. He gulped, forcing down the emotions fighting their way through his chest.

"Do you have any idea just how many lives have been touched by that knowledge you call useless?" Laurence asked, glaring at the young CEO, his speech slow and shaky.

Another episode from the past visited his mind as everything around him came to a pause. This time, he was on a couch, cuddling with the lovely attendant from the shop.

"Then why don't you give Ms. Nina a pot of calathea?" The older woman swayed with the eight-year-old boy in her arms.

Young Laurence rolled his neck behind him. "Calathea? Like that plant with leaves that look like they're praying? But why?"

"Because she's moving away from the city to teach at a different school, right? That prayer plant can be a wonderful gift for someone starting a new life."

The young boy hummed and nodded, despite not understanding the woman's words.

"I knew it." Like pruning shears on a plant's branch, Isaac's rich voice clipped the image from bygone years. There was no time for the cryptic remark to sink in as the young CEO fired another question. "Do you know the band Soul Ecstasy?"

Laurence blinked, confused at the unexpected shift in the subject.

Soul Ecstasy. He sure knew about them. It was the band he'd discovered when he was a teenager. A talented group, they were; had awesome pieces in their discography. Unfortunately, they retired before their music had the chance to be known by the general public. Undiscovered gems were what they were.

But that was not the sole reason Laurence could never forget about Soul Ecstasy. When he was in high school, he'd learned that the group's only female member and main vocalist, Isla, was the mother of one of his juniors.

And that former junior was the same boss standing in front of him right now.

"I don't," Laurence lied through his teeth, unsure why Isaac was bringing up his mother's old group. "I'm sorry, but am I supposed to know about them, sir?"

"No, that's the thing," the young CEO said under his breath. "You were not supposed to know them. Not many people are aware such a group existed. Some might have heard their songs but would not know the artists behind them. They had a few works that were not well known, even among the people who were familiar with their group. One of their least recognized songs was entitled 'Irreversible,' which told about the regrets of losing someone very dear to you."

A frown found its way on Laurence's forehead. The more Isaac talked, the more he got confused.

The young boss leaned away from the long desk, gave his employee a hard stare before taking a stride forward, shortening the gap between them.

On reflex, Laurence stepped back. He mentally cursed, displeased with the evident difference in their heights.

This punk. Who told you to grow this much? He thought even if he was in his original body, Isaac would still have a few centimeters over him.

"Soul Ecstasy's 'Irreversible' was the piece you just sang in karaoke yesterday," said the CEO.

Laurence's eyes stretched out. Caution alarms set off in the corner of his mind.

In an attempt to mask his bewilderment, he let a strained smirk settle on his lips. "I'm not sure why we're even talking about this, sir. So I don't know that group, but I was able to sing one of their songs yesterday. What's the problem with that? You said it yourself that some people might have heard their works but could not even tell who's the artist. That's right. I'd constantly listened to a few random playlists when I was doing physical therapy in the hospital."

Remembering Melvin's words yesterday, Laurence granted himself a minute to collect his thoughts. "Is it because of the amnesia? I don't know what gives you people the idea that someone who's forgotten his memories can't learn something new. Did it ever occur to you that I might have acquired all the knowledge I've now after I woke up from the coma? What I lost were my memories, sir, not my brain's ability to retain new information."

Another silence came over the room. Longer. Heavier.

The tick of the clock tolled like a gong in Laurence's head. He fiddled with his ear piercing and put his weight from one foot to another. Unable to stand the intensity of Isaac's scrutiny any longer, he broke eye contact and feigned interest in the calathea in between kalanchoe and begonia.

Laurence entertained the notion that the young boss might have chosen that plant when he'd started this corporation because he, too, was aware of its symbolism.

"I know at least one person who used to be a listener of Soul Ecstasy."

The comment flung Laurence back to reality. Round hazel eyes rushed to the owner of the low voice once again.

But Isaac was no longer looking at him. Instead, the CEO aimed his wistful gaze at the potted plants, as if the story he was about to unfold was carved on each of their flowers and leaves.

"An upperclassman. His late father was a barista, while his late mother was a florist who owned a small gardening shop. A young man who was passionate and always took pride in what his parents did for a living, so he made sure to learn a lot about their jobs."

Laurence gaped, eyes widening even more if possible. His brain reeled as he grasped the familiar—too familiar—description that had tumbled out of Isaac's mouth. A violent, unwelcome noise pounded against his temples, but he could not pick out if it was the imaginary alert signals or his pulse going wild.

"He was usually so easygoing, but..." For a transient moment, a shadow of a smile softened Isaac's expression. And then, there was nothing again. "If you so much as hinted at thinking little of his parents' occupations, he would never hesitate to give you a piece of his mind."

"Wha—" Laurence shook his head in the hope it would rid him of the daze. Steadying his nerves, he asked, "And why are you telling me all about this? You're really losing me here, Isa—sir. Why are you suddenly bringing up these things which have nothing to do with me... my job or that little mistake I made on this paperwork?"

Sadly, Isaac didn't seem to have a plan for providing him with the actual answer anytime soon.

"He was also the one who gave me the nickname he thought was cooler and a lot easier to say than Isaac."

Turning back to Laurence, the young CEO held his employee captive in his sea-green eyes. His defined jawlines created small twitches, the twin moles flitting ever so slightly as his facial expression tightened.

"Laurence Villegas—"

The name owner flinched.

"—was the only person who had ever called me Ice."

A flaming sensation swallowed up Laurence's whole being and then freezing water poured. In less than a second, cold sweats covered every inch of his skin.

"Ye-Yeah? And I... I should know all of this because? What's really your point?"

"The first day you returned here to the office and saw me, you referred to me with that nickname," Isaac said, each syllable full and clear, not an ounce of doubt tainting his controlled tone.

"No, I didn't." Laurence halted, realizing he might be coming off too defensive with his quick replies. He snatched a glance at the door behind him before returning his eyes to the young CEO. "I was talking about the iced tea I brought you that time. I don't understand what you're trying to imply here, sir, but why'd I call you that? First of all, that's so unnecessary for me to do as your mere employee. Another thing, I was never aware of that nickname."

"I admit I was led to believe you were referring to the drink at first. And indeed, Florence Villena doesn't know about that nickname. None of the people here in the office do."

Isaac took another step toward the other man.

Laurence staggered, his clammy fingers reaching for the edge of the long table to keep his balance, as his whole surroundings appeared to be closing in on him.

"Now that I think of it, you seem to know a lot of things that the old Florence Villena didn't. You can say you've learned and developed interests in them after you've woken up from a coma, but it's strange no matter how much I think about it."

As if to cut off his employee's escape, Isaac placed his hand on the corner of the desk, his arm caging Laurence on the left side.

"Wh-what's strange?" Laurence slanted his gaze, ignoring their proximity.

"I've heard of people acting differently after coming around from coma, especially those who lost their memories, but I wonder... Can a person really change so much to the point it's as if they have become a completely different person?"

A frisson settled in Laurence's stomach. His heart drummed harder while Isaac continued to talk in a calm voice.

"I don't remember Florence Villena being interested in the plants or in tea and coffee. Then again, I wasn't that close to him to know that. But there's one thing I'm fairly certain about; he was very good at numbers and never the one to call algebra stupid."

"I still don't know what you're getting at."

"I'm sure you do, Rence," Isaac said, stressing the nickname. For the first time since their paths had crossed again, an uncommon emotion flared in his eyes. He offered a wry smirk. "You're not the person everyone thinks you are. You're not the person you're trying to pretend to be."

Before Laurence could hurl another denial, the young CEO leaned in to his left ear, whispering the familiar honorific that a certain former junior used to meekly call him around a decade ago.

"Senior—"

Laurence shuddered as Isaac's warm breath fanned against his neck. He tightened his grip on the edge of the table and pressed his back further against the wood, sensing the potted plants brush against his waist.

Forget about a deer caught in the headlight; he felt more like a deer trapped in a predator's claws and fangs at the moment.

"—it's you, isn't it?"