I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World-Chapter 191: Date Part 3
March 29, 2024 — 9:30 PM
The Verve Room, Quezon City
The streets outside SM North had begun to settle. Traffic was steady but quieter now—headlights like fireflies drifting through city arteries. Matthew and Angel walked side by side, not rushed, not speaking much. Just… walking.
It had been a long day of nothing in particular. Movies. Food. Arcade games. Books. A bench under fairy lights.
And still, neither of them was quite ready to go home.
Matthew stopped in front of a building a few blocks from the mall. It looked like nothing special—just brick and steel, with a small neon sign glowing soft blue above the door: The Verve Room.
"You know this place?" Angel asked, raising a brow.
"I've passed it a few times," he said. "No politics. No business. Just jazz and dark corners."
She smiled. "You had me at 'no politics.'"
They stepped inside.
—
9:35 PM — Inside the Verve Room
Dim lights. Velvet booths. A quiet bar with glass racks glinting in amber and gold. The air smelled faintly of bourbon and citrus, grounded by wood polish and vinyl records. In the corner, a small live trio played—upright bass, piano, and a saxophone that curled through the room like warm smoke.
A hostess greeted them with a knowing smile. "For two?"
Matthew nodded. "Somewhere near the music, but not too loud."
"Right this way."
They were led to a booth along the curved wall, partially tucked behind a pillar. Angel slid in first, her hand brushing against the deep red seat cushion.
"It's like a secret," she whispered.
Matthew sat across from her, his voice just as low. "Good secrets deserve good company."
—
They ordered drinks—an Old Fashioned for Matthew, a gin and elderflower spritz for Angel.
"Is this what you pictured when you said you wanted a quiet life?" she asked.
"Something like it," he said, stirring his drink gently. "A place where time doesn't press down on you."
Angel sipped hers, tasting the citrus bite, the floral lift. "Yeah. I could get used to this."
Their conversation dipped in and out of silence, like the rhythm of the band beside them. When they didn't talk, they just watched—people laughing softly, couples swaying near the bar, a group of med students nursing drinks and scribbling on flashcards.
"Do you ever miss normalcy?" Angel asked, tracing the rim of her glass.
Matthew tilted his head. "I think we traded it. For responsibility. For ambition. But yeah. Sometimes I do."
She looked at him, steady. "Would you take it back?"
He considered that for a while. "Not all of it. But… moments like this? I'd take more of them."
Angel smiled. "Me too."
—
10:15 PM — A Second Round
They were on their second round now—Angel had switched to a whiskey sour, Matthew to a neat pour of Macallan. The saxophone melted into a blues piece. The piano filled the cracks.
"Okay," Angel said suddenly, "random question."
Matthew leaned forward. "Hit me."
"If you weren't in transit or tech, what would you have been?"
He chuckled. "That's the random question?"
"Yes. And it has to be unrelated."
He took a sip. "Alright. I think… a travel photographer."
Angel blinked. "Seriously?"
He shrugged. "There's something about capturing motion without building it. Letting other people move, and just… observing."
She leaned back, clearly impressed. "Unexpected. I figured you'd say CEO of a robotics company."
He smirked. "What about you?"
"Don't laugh," she warned.
"I promise nothing."
She hesitated, then said, "A children's book illustrator."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Wait—you draw?"
"I used to. Mostly in high school. Dumb comics. Animals in spaceships. A raccoon with a jetpack."
He grinned. "That's brilliant. I'd buy that."
She flushed slightly, hiding behind her glass. "You're buzzed."
"I'm appreciative."
They sat in the warm quiet again, the band shifting into something slow and dreamy. A song with no words, just notes strung together like memories.
—
10:40 PM — The Dance
When the saxophonist slid into a gentle cover of La Vie En Rose, something changed. A few couples had already moved onto the small floor. There was no announcement. Just music. And invitation.
Matthew glanced toward it, then looked at Angel.
She met his eyes and rolled hers playfully. "You don't strike me as a dancer."
"I'm not."
"Then why are you looking at me like that?"
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He extended a hand, palm open. "Because I'm asking."
She looked at it. Then back at him. Then sighed dramatically and placed her hand in his.
"Fine. Just one."
They stepped onto the floor, just the two of them at first. The music was soft enough to feel like a secret. Matthew's hand found her waist. Her fingers rested lightly on his shoulder. They swayed, slowly, barely moving. Just enough.
"You're not bad," she murmured.
"You're leading," he said.
She smiled. "That's how I win at racing games."
He laughed softly, their foreheads nearly touching. The song wasn't long, but it felt like it lasted forever—and not long enough.
When it ended, they stayed a second longer, still and close.
Then the applause came, and they quietly stepped away.
11:05 PM — Outside The Verve Room
They stepped out into the stillness of the late night, the door closing gently behind them and muffling the final notes of the jazz trio. A chill had crept into the air, not biting, just enough to raise goosebumps along Angel's arms. Without a word, Matthew shrugged off his blazer and draped it over her shoulders.
"Still not a dancer," he said, softly.
"But you tried," she replied. "That's what counts."
They strolled along the sidewalk, shoes scuffing faintly against the concrete, surrounded by shuttered storefronts and quiet lamplight. It wasn't the kind of silence that demanded talking. It was the kind that let them breathe.
"I needed this," Angel said after a while. "Not just the jazz or the wine or the dancing. Just... not being in charge for once."
Matthew looked over at her. "You don't always have to lead, you know."
"I know," she said. "But when you carry something too long, you forget how to set it down."
He reached for her hand again. "Then I'll remind you."
She squeezed it gently. "Only if I can remind you, too."
He smiled. "Deal."
