High hopes and high dreams.

It's the only thing Phainon had brought with him when he decided to leave Aedes Elysiae and chase the city instead.

Back home, he supposed life was rather simple. Golden fields stretching endlessly beneath the open skies, the scent of soil clinging to his clothes, his parents’ laughter drifting through the farmhouse windows while he helped work on the land that had raised him. It was honest work — perhaps difficult but it was familiar.

But he wanted more, and so stupidly but diligently, he packed a single duffel bag, tucked a week’s worth of savings into his worn wallet, and even promised himself that he wouldn't come back until he made something of his life.

The city was not welcoming.

He didn't exactly know what to expect when he arrived inside company offices, but every interview always ended the same way — he didn't have prior experience, they needed someone who had a bachelor’s degree, or someone who has connections within the industry. Phainon didn't have that, much less the wits to impress them. He was simply a man who wanted to see what the world could offer.

Three days left, He sat on a park bench, staring at his phone and doing the math for the tenth time that afternoon. Maybe four if I ate less.

“Ever cleaned a pool before, son?”

An elderly man struck up a conversation with him, who amicably took upon himself to sit beside him, extending a hand out to him. He had kind eyes, Phainon immediately could tell, but the offer seemed surreal.

A poolboy.

He was offered a job as a poolboy. Being one didn't necessarily require prior experience to it, neither did it demand for a college degree. All it needed was someone hard working and could work with repetition.

It's exactly what Phainon was used to.

The mansion looked absolutely majestic; he found himself with his heart on his throat while staring at a world that felt so unreal. Unattainable. So this is where he'd also be residing as a stay-in employee?

After a month of settling in, getting used to the repetition of his work — of measuring chlorine with careful hands, skimming leaves from the pool, scrubbing tiles until they gleamed so brightly, he felt like he could finally breathe. Well, he couldn't exactly complain with the nature of his job but hey, it paid well.

By midday, the sun was brutal. He bit his lip, tugging his shirt over his head without a second thought and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Oddly enough, the weather here felt drastically different from the weather in his hometown. Here, the breeze rarely comes and it was always humid.

A tired exhale leaves his mouth, attention far too engrossed with his work that he didn't even notice the lingering glances from the other workers — or simply the way the sun traced every part of his muscles like it was painting him in gold.

And then, you came home.

Phainon’s heard of you before he even saw you — his boss’s daughter, just finished her degree abroad, that person. But nothing could have possibly prepared him for the moment you stepped into the courtyard, wearing the prettiest smile he had ever seen, voice warm and eyes kind.

You must be Phainon?

His heart nearly stops, a fuzzy feeling growing in his chest as he nearly stumbles forward, almost eager to shake hands with you. “Yes, ma’am! I mean, sorry, just Phainon’s fine! Just doin’ my job ‘ere as a poolboy, haha!”

Inside? He was falling apart. Phainon couldn't tell what you were thinking with how you smiled so easily back at him, not condescendingly, no, it was something akin to curiosity. Or at least, that's what he assumed. He stood idiotically, mirroring your smile as he gripped the skimmer life a lifeline.

Truthfully, he knew he had no right to feel the way he did. Giddy. It's as if he found his first love, or was it love at first sight? Whichever it was. You're someone meant for boardrooms and penthouses, not for a farmboy who had dirt under his nails and a southern drawl he couldn't hide.

But also, oh shit, he's still shirtless. Talk about first impressions.