Lingling's POV
The door to Lingling's small apartment creaked open as she stepped inside, sighing heavily. Every muscle in her body ached from the long hours at work. She removed her sneakers and left them by the entrance, her socks slightly damp from standing all day. The smell of cleaning supplies still clung to her uniform, reminding her just how exhausting her shift at the airport lounge had been.
Her studio apartment was modestâjust a step above bare minimum. The walls were plain, slightly yellowed from years of wear, and the single window barely let in any light. A small electric fan hummed quietly in the corner, doing its best to battle the relentless Bangkok heat. Against one wall was her neatly made single bed, covered with a thin blanket. A rickety wooden wardrobe stood beside it, the door slightly off its hinges. Her tiny kitchenette was barely functional, with a one-burner electric stove, a chipped countertop, and a mini fridge stocked with the bare essentials.
Living alone meant she had to do everything herself. Cooking, cleaning, laundryâthere was no one else to rely on. She wasn't one to complain, though. She had never wanted to be a burden to anyone, and she wasn't about to start now.
Her gaze landed on the sleek, expensive phone sitting on her wooden table. Orm's phone.
She let out a sigh. It had been two days since she found it abandoned in the airport lounge's powder room. She should've just turned it in at lost and found, but noâOrm had insisted she hold onto it.
Lingling groaned, running a hand through her long black hair. What a hassle.
She was just about to start preparing her dinner when the phone vibrated loudly on the table. She closed her eyes for a second before finally picking it up, already guessing who it was.
With an exhausted sigh, she answered. "What now?"
"Well, hello to you too," came the familiar, teasing voice.
Lingling rolled her eyes. "Orm."
"You remembered my name. I'm touched," Orm said with mock sentimentality.
"What do you want?"
Orm chuckled. "You're always so straight to the point. I like that."
"I don't care what you like. I just want to know why you're calling."
"Alright, alright. No need to be so aggressive," Orm said smoothly. "I just wanted to let you know that my flight got delayed again. I won't be back in Bangkok for another two days."
Lingling closed her eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I wish I was," Orm said, though she didn't sound all that disappointed. "Guess you'll have to babysit my phone a little longer."
Lingling pinched the bridge of her nose. "So, what do you expect me to do? Carry it around like it's my pet?"
"That's a cute image," Orm mused. "You, taking my phone out for walks."
"I'm serious."
"So am I," Orm said lightly. "I mean, unless you want to sell it. I'm sure you'd get a good price for it."
Lingling scoffed. "I don't need your money."
Orm let out an amused hum. "Now that's rare."
Lingling was about to end the call when Orm continued, "Since you're being such a responsible caretaker, how about I take you out for dinner when I get back?"
"No."
"Coffee?"
"No."
"Not even a box of snacks from my family's company?"
"Orm."
"Yes?"
"Goodnight."
Lingling hung up and tossed the phone onto the table. What a spoiled brat.
She turned back to the stove, shaking her head. She had no time for people like Orm.
____________________
Orm's POV
Orm lounged in the executive suite of her hotel, her long legs stretched out across the couch. The city lights of Hong Kong twinkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but she wasn't paying attention to them. Instead, she was still thinking about the phone call.
Across from her, Pring, her assistant, was eyeing her with mild suspicion.
"You look entertained," Pring noted.
Orm smirked. "I am."
Pring narrowed her eyes. "The phone girl again?"
"Lingling," Orm corrected, as if the name itself was interesting to say.
Pring sighed. "You're messing with her, aren't you?"
Orm stretched lazily. "Not really. She's just fun to annoy."
"She doesn't care who you are," Pring pointed out.
"That's the best part," Orm admitted. "She's not fawning over my last name. She's not trying to impress me or get something out of me. She's just... irritated."
Pring raised an eyebrow. "And you like that?"
Orm grinned. "It's refreshing."
Pring sighed and crossed her arms. "You get bored too easily."
Orm smirked. "You know me too well."
Pring tapped her fingers against the table. "So what's the plan? Keep teasing her until she cracks?"
Orm tilted her head, pretending to think. "Maybe."
"Be careful," Pring warned. "You're playing with someone who actually works hard for a living. Unlike the girls who chase after you for free vacations and expensive gifts."
Orm waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. It's just harmless fun."
Pring wasn't convinced. "You say that now."
Orm leaned back against the plush couch, staring at the ceiling.
She wasn't interested in Lingling. Not in a romantic way, at least. Lingling was too serious, too stubborn, too unimpressed by everything that made Orm who she was.
But that was exactly what made her entertaining.