Behind the door of a massive warehouse, Sam sits on the floor, staring at two trucks in front of him. Scattered around him are automotive parts and papers, as if forming a strange nest. He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t even seem to hear us come in.

  Just another way to show how weird he really is.

  A dog rests its head on his leg, while a cat sleeps curled up in his lap.

  This must be that level of concentration that makes him grumpy, just like Johan warned.

  “Better not bother him,” I whisper, not daring to approach like the others.

  “Don’t worry, he’s in a good mood. He got a new toy today. He’s just enjoying taking it apart to think about improvements.” Johan walks toward Sam, holding a bag of food.

  Furioso, the dog, is the first to raise his head on alert.

  Sam turns in our direction and smiles gently as he recognizes each face. Then, like the ding of a typewriter reaching the end of a line, I can almost hear a ‘bing’ when his gaze reaches the last person in the group — me.

  His eyes slide right past me, back to the beginning, completely ignoring my presence as he gestures for Zoe to sit beside him.

  Each time he blatantly avoids looking at me, the more I suspect that this man literally cannot see me.

  Has his previous hatred now evolved into homophobia? Did he not just get mad thinking I was hitting on him, but actually hate me because he thinks I’m gay?

  That thought only pisses me off even more. What a prejudiced jerk. I’m not gay, but I don’t like this. It shouldn’t matter whether I am or not. Did his hatred grow just because he thinks I am? That would be... infuriating.

  It's not unacceptable, though. I don’t believe someone’s private thoughts are entirely condemnable — unless it leads to action.

  But I can’t accept this kind of prejudice, I hate when this happens to my friends. Sam is an asshole.

  And honestly, I can’t even tell if it’s homophobia or if he just hates me. He hasn’t said anything, hasn’t done anything — except glare at me with hatred since the very beginning.

  “Johan said we can stay in your truck—the old one, not the new one,” Zoe says, sitting beside Sam.

  Meanwhile, a few steps away, Ella and Wally watch their daughter’s excitement with amusement. And I prefer to stay close enough so it doesn’t seem like I’m isolating myself, but also as near the door — and as far from Sam — as possible.

  “Hope you have fun,” Sam leans forward, happiness creeping into his voice.

  “If you want, I can make everything comfortable and fun. I just need to grab my backpack, clothes, and Felina and Furioso’s things.” He still wears that lighthearted smile, his movements oddly relaxed — something that doesn’t suit him at all.

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  “Need help?” Zoe asks as the two-faced man gets up.

  “Wait. I’d like to talk to you about something,” Johan interjects.

  “My retirement?” Sam narrows his eyes.

  “You’re not retiring!” Johan snaps, immediately smoothing his hair to rein in his frustration. “You’re too young.”

  “Fine, then I’ll just quit and live like a retiree.”

  “Retired while working on your project?” Johan tilts his head with a smug smile, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

  “A retiree with a hobby.”

  “Almost like me,” Wally chimes in, pulling Zoe closer. “I work part-time, then focus on my hobbies.”

  “See? It’s not crazy. It’s enjoying life.”

  “You’re thirty-four.”

  Wait, he’s only two years younger than me? Worse — Wally is younger than Sam, yet somehow looks like he could be his father.

  “So you want me to wait until my joints ache and I’m too exhausted to have fun?” Like a spoiled child, Sam flops backward dramatically. Zoe copies him as the bad influence he is.

  “No. That’s why you’ll keep your job while traveling.”

  This guy is so… irritating. He has everything and still complains.

  “You’re going to keep paying my salary while I’m completely free?”

  Finally, even he realizes how ridiculous that sounds.

  Living freely, having everything he wants — being respected, having privacy, not dealing with annoying people — plus a fat paycheck? It’s too good to be true.

  “You certainly won’t be free from your goal of building the ultimate vehicle,” Johan clarifies. “Besides, I have no doubt that multiple inventions will come from this journey, and I want to be the one investing in that technology. I want to make your creative process easier.”

  Johan sees profit in this. Better in his hands than someone else’s.

  “No.” The spoiled brat strikes again.

  “Why not?”

  “How exactly are you going to ‘make it easier’ beyond money? With those people…” His eyes darken with anger, but he bites his tongue. Then, turning to Zoe, he corrects himself. “I mean… those super-trained, irritatingly rational employees?”

  “Who pissed you off this time?”

  “I’m not mad.” He folds his arms and scowls.

  Idiot. His whole body screams otherwise.

  I should leave. I came here to see his reaction to the documentary proposal, not to watch Johan try to convince him not to quit.

  But… it is entertaining to watch him be so ridiculous, losing control of the conversation. Johan looks like a father scolding a spoiled son, and I kind of enjoy it.

  “Weren’t you going to present the new engine model? The one you’re so excited about?”

  “They just keep saying it’s unviable and impossible in real-world use.” Sam scowls and moves away from Johan, finding solace in studying a mechanical part.

  “They said it’s impossible?”

  “Impossible!” Sam grits his teeth.

  “Sam hates being told something’s impossible,” Johan whispers to us before stepping closer again. “You’ve already proven their ‘limitations’ wrong before. Remember how they called your ideas crazy — only to eat their words when you made the ‘impossible’ a reality?” He nudges Sam’s arm playfully, trying to lift his spirits.

  “That only happened twice, and on smaller projects.”

  “Once was impressive. Twice was groundbreaking. What will the third time be?”

  “A grand revenge,” Ella suggests.

  Sam turns to her with a crooked smile.

  “I like that. But no… it’ll be revolutionary.” He lowers his head slightly, his gaze turning dark.

  A chill runs down my spine as his grin stretches from ear to ear, unsettling and unhinged. He looks like a clown in need of an exorcism.

  Sam is not a psychopath like I thought, scratch that. He’s something worse.

  He’s a mad scientist planning world domination.

  No way in hell am I accepting this proposal.