Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 218: The Apprenticeship

The day found its rhythm fast.

Phones buzzed, printers hummed, and by the time Noel had settled at his desk, the familiar scent of fresh coffee filled the floor.

He glanced toward Ren and Jace. "What’s today’s schedule?"

Ren shrugged, twirling his pen. "No clue. Max didn’t tell us anything yet."

As if on cue, the office door swung open.

Mr. Max stepped in, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. "Alright, good morning, everyone." His voice carried—calm, confident, the kind that pulled focus without trying. "Now that you’ve had two weeks to get comfortable, it’s time we talk about how this department really operates."

He began pacing slowly, hands in his pockets. "International Relations isn’t a desk job. It’s dynamic. It’s mentorship, adaptability, and knowing when to read the silence between the lines. Starting today, each of you will shadow a senior staff member. Think of it as... an apprenticeship."

Ren straightened up immediately.

Jace looked mildly intrigued for once.

Noel sat still, pen balanced between his fingers, attentive.

The door opened again.

Two figures entered—a man in his late thirties with silver-rimmed glasses and a woman with a sharp, purposeful gaze.

"This is Mr. Park," Max said, gesturing to the man. "He oversees European trade partnerships—tariffs, import regulations, all the glamorous stuff."

Mr. Park gave a polite nod. "Good morning."

"And this is Ms. Chen," Max continued. "She handles our Asian markets—complex negotiations, cultural nuances, you name it."

Ms. Chen offered a small, businesslike smile.

Max’s eyes swept the room. "Jace, you’ll be with Mr. Park."

"Cool," Jace said, standing with a small shrug. "Europe sounds fancy."

Mr. Park chuckled lightly. "We’ll start with tariff documentation. It’s not glamorous, but it’ll teach you precision."

"Ren, you’ll be with Ms. Chen."

Ren shot up from his seat. "Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best."

Ms. Chen nodded approvingly. "Good. Be early tomorrow. We’re reviewing a Seoul contract at eight."

"Got it," Ren said, scribbling in his notebook as if the words might vanish.

Then the air quieted again, anticipation hanging thick. Max’s gaze landed on Noel.

"And Noel..." His tone softened just a fraction—too subtle for anyone but Noel to catch. "You’ll be working with me."

A hush lingered. Even the hum of conversation paused for a breath.

Noel didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. "Understood."

Max smiled—that practiced blend of warmth and authority. "I handle the high-stakes negotiations—the multi-million dollar contracts, the partnerships that make or break quarters. It’s demanding work." He paused. "But I have a feeling you can handle it."

"Thank you, sir."

"Max," he corrected, voice dropping lower, smoother. "When it’s just us, call me Max. No need for formality between partners."

Partners. The word hung there like static.

Noel’s jaw tightened slightly, but his voice stayed level. "Understood."

"Good," Max said, satisfied. "We’ll be working long hours—early mornings, late nights. I hope that won’t be an issue."

"It won’t," Noel said.

"Excellent." Max reached for the folder on his desk. "Come. Let’s start with this contract from our German partner. I’d like your take on a few clauses."

Noel rose, collected his notebook, and followed him into the corner office.

The glass door closed with a soft click.

Outside, the others resumed their chatter—Jace talking about coffee, Ren already pestering Ms. Chen about tomorrow’s meeting.

But inside Max’s office, the tone shifted.

Max slid the contract toward him, pointing to a paragraph mid-page. "Here—see this clause? Standard language, but it leaves a gap for interpretation. That’s where the leverage comes in."

Noel leaned closer, scanning the line. "The delivery schedule isn’t clearly defined. That’s the weak point."

Max’s smile curved faintly. "Sharp eye. Most people gloss right over that."

Noel’s tone was modest. "It’s just reading carefully."

"It’s reading between the lines," Max corrected gently, lowering his voice. "You’re not just observant, Noel—you’re intuitive. That’s a rarer skill."

For a brief second, silence pressed between them.

Max’s gaze lingered—calm, steady—then dropped back to the contract.

He moved around to stand beside Noel, close enough that his cologne mingled faintly with the scent of ink and paper.

His hand brushed the back of Noel’s chair as he pointed again at a section. "Here. The delivery penalty clause—what’s your take?"

Noel didn’t look up. "Too vague. The penalty’s percentage should be higher if the delay exceeds two weeks."

A quiet laugh. "Exactly. You’d do well in negotiations."

Noel only nodded.

Max lingered a second longer before stepping back, his tone turning lighter. "You know, I think we’ll make a strong team."

Noel’s expression didn’t shift. "We’ll see, sir—"

"Max," he reminded gently.

Noel exhaled through his nose. "Max."

"Better," Max said, smiling. "I’ll send you the rest of the documents by noon. Let’s review them together tomorrow morning. Early—say, seven-thirty? I find the office is quieter then. Better for focus."

Noel hesitated for just a fraction of a second. "Seven-thirty works."

"Perfect." Max leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed casually. "You know, most interns struggle with the language of these contracts. The legal jargon, the implications hidden in subtext. But you..." He tilted his head slightly. "You seem comfortable with complexity."

"I read a lot," Noel said simply.

"Clearly." Max’s eyes held his for a moment too long. "It’s refreshing, actually. Working with someone who doesn’t need everything spelled out."

Noel closed the folder neatly, his movements precise. "Is there anything else you need me to review today?"

"Not today," Max said, straightening. "But I’ll have more for you tomorrow. We’re building toward a major proposal—telecommunications deal with a Frankfurt-based firm. Multi-year contract. High visibility." He paused, letting the weight of it settle. "I’d like you involved from the ground up."

"I appreciate the opportunity," Noel said, standing.

"You’ve earned it," Max replied smoothly. "Talent like yours doesn’t go unnoticed."

There it was again—that subtle emphasis, the way his words carried just slightly more weight than they needed to.

Noel felt it but didn’t acknowledge it. "I’ll make sure I’m prepared for tomorrow."

"I know you will." Max walked him to the door, opening it with a practiced courtesy. "Oh, and Noel?"

Noel turned back.

"Don’t hesitate to reach out if you have questions. Anytime." Max’s smile was professional, but his tone dipped just below it. "My door’s always open for you."

"Noted," Noel said evenly, stepping back into the main office.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Outside the glass walls, the rest of the office moved like clockwork—tapping keys, muffled chatter, laughter from the coffee machine corner.

But inside, the air had felt thicker, quieter.

A silent current had passed between them—unreadable, restrained, yet undeniably charged.

Noel sensed it, though he didn’t name it.

Max felt it, though he hid it beneath professionalism.

And somewhere on the floor below—unaware but uneasy—Luca paused mid-sentence at his desk, a faint tug of intuition in his chest.

Downstairs, the Business Studies floor buzzed with quiet purpose.

The hum of conversation blended with the soft clicking of keyboards and the shuffle of papers.

Luca sat with his team—Bella, Liam, Wei Chen, and Camila—gathered around the long table, screens glowing with presentation slides.

Coffee cups sat half-drained beside laptops, the smell of caffeine and determination filling the room.

Georgia stood at the whiteboard, marker in hand, her hair tied up in that no-nonsense way that always meant focus mode. "Alright, team," she said, drawing a clean underline beneath Client Review – Monday. "Tomorrow’s the big one. We’re presenting to GreenHydra about their new eco-friendly bottle line."

"Upgrade Your Sip," Luca murmured with a small grin, leaning back in his chair.

Bella laughed softly. "Still can’t believe that name stuck."

"It’s no more a joke," Luca said, shrugging, "but hey—it grew on everyone."

Georgia turned, smirking. "It grew on the client, Luca. That’s what matters. They loved the direction. We just need to make sure our proposal holds up under scrutiny tomorrow."

Wei Chen adjusted his glasses. "We’re focusing on three things, right? Sustainability, brand identity, and long-term market value."

"Exactly," Georgia said, tapping each word she’d written. "Bella, you’ll handle visuals. Liam, your market data slide is good but make it tighter—no more than two graphs. Camila and Wei Chen, you’ll do the Q&A segment. Stay aligned on metrics."

Camila nodded. "We’ve been rehearsing. We’ve got this."

Georgia turned her gaze to Luca. "And you, Mr. ’Upgrade Your Sip’—you open the pitch. Keep it conversational, confident. The first thirty seconds set the tone."

Luca raised his brow, feigning calm. "I’ll make them believe it’s their idea."

Liam chuckled. "You always do."

"Good," Georgia said, arms crossed but pleased. "The goal isn’t just to impress them—it’s to make them trust us. This project could lead to a contract extension for the program. Maybe even full-time offers down the line."

A short silence followed, not tense but weighted with shared focus.

Everyone understood what was at stake.

Luca glanced at the mock-up on the screen—a sleek, glass bottle with a subtle green tint, minimal logo, tagline beneath it: Upgrade Your Sip.

It looked professional now. Real. The kind of thing that could actually sit on a store shelf.

"Crazy, huh?" Bella said softly, following his gaze. "Started with a dumb pun in a brainstorming session."

"Yeah," Luca said, smiling faintly. "Now it’s someone’s product launch."

Georgia clapped once, cutting through the mood. "Alright, team. We’ll run through the slides one last time, take feedback, and then we call it a day. Tomorrow we deliver."

Chairs scooted. Screens lit brighter. Energy shifted from idle to sharp focus.

As the meeting rolled on, laughter slipped in between discussions, a few teasing remarks balancing the seriousness.

Luca thrived in that rhythm—the mix of camaraderie and challenge.

But somewhere between slides, his eyes drifted toward the ceiling—one floor up—where Noel was, probably sitting across from Max.

He couldn’t explain it, but something in him felt... pulled.

Just a flicker of unease, like catching a scent you can’t quite name.

Then Georgia’s voice brought him back.

"Luca. You ready to lead us in tomorrow?"

He smiled again, easy and composed. "Always."

But even as he said it, that faint tug remained—quiet, persistent, like a thread pulled taut between floors.