Chapter 56: Dylan
I strolled down a quieter, sunlit corridor on the third floor of the administrative complex, chatting casually with Paige in my head as I took in the bustling scene through the massive glass windows.
[So, Host,] Paige giggled, her tone full of playful curiosity. [Now that you’ve conquered the rehearsal studio, what’s next on your grand backstage tour?]
’Honestly, I’m just enjoying walking around without a boss breathing down my neck,’ I replied, slipping my hands into my pockets. ’After spending years stuck in a cramped kitchen, just wandering through a place like this feels pretty great.’
As I rounded the corner near a quiet lounge area, my eyes fell on a brightly lit vending machine stationed against the wall.
Sitting on a small wooden bench directly in front of the machine was a ten-year-old boy. He wore a neat dark blue sweater and shorts, his chin resting in his hands as he stared at the vending machine’s glass display with a ridiculously sad pout.
I slowed my steps, looking from the kid to the vending machine, then back again.
Curious, I walked over and crouched beside the bench, staring at the vending machine alongside him. I examined the rows of drinks, chips, and snacks, trying to figure out what had given this kid such a tragic expression. Finding nothing obviously wrong with the machine, I turned to him.
"What’s got you looking so down, little guy?" I asked.
The kid turned toward me, blinking his large, dark eyes. He didn’t say a word, only giving a quick shake of his head before looking back at the glowing display.
I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the vending machine. Following his gaze, I noticed he was staring at a row of thick, caramel-filled chocolate bars on the second shelf.
A faint smile tugged at my lips. ’Ah... I see.’
Pushing myself up from my crouch, I walked over to the vending machine, pulled out my wallet, and tapped Sarah’s Master Command Card against the payment scanner. The machine beeped, and I selected a cold can of Coke along with one of the caramel chocolate bars.
THUD. THUD.
Both items dropped into the retrieval slot below. I reached down, grabbed the soda and the chocolate bar, and walked back over to the bench.
Sitting down beside the kid, I popped open the Coke with a sharp fizz and took a long, refreshing sip. Resting the cold can on my knee, I casually held up the chocolate bar, examining the shiny wrapper with a thoughtful frown.
"Man, that’s weird," I mumbled, keeping my voice just loud enough for him to hear. "The machine gave me this chocolate bar for free with my Coke. But I don’t really like caramel chocolate... Should I just throw it away?"
A small, frantic hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.
I looked down to see the kid staring at me with wide, panicked eyes, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. "No! You shouldn’t waste food! That’s bad!"
I held back a laugh, glancing at his small hand wrapped around my wrist. "Well, I can’t eat it, and throwing it away is bad. What am I supposed to do with it then? Do you want it?"
The kid’s dark eyes instantly brightened, but a second later, he hesitated. He slowly let go of my wrist and shook his head with a reluctant sigh. "I can’t. My mother told me I’m not allowed to eat too many sweets."
"Got a sweet tooth, huh?" I asked with a smile.
He gave an earnest nod. "I love them... but Mom said my teeth will rot if I eat them all the time, so she doesn’t let me have them very often."
"Well, your mom’s definitely right about that," I said, taking another sip of my Coke. "Eating too many sweets is bad for your health. But that doesn’t mean you have to avoid them completely. Too much of anything is bad for you, whether it’s candy, screen time, or even studying. The trick is moderation."
I leaned down slightly, meeting his eyes with a smile. "If you only eat sweets once in a while as a treat, and promise not to overdo it... then it’s totally fine. Think you can follow those rules?"
The kid listened intently before giving me a firm nod. "I can follow the rules!"
"Good boy," I chuckled, reaching over to gently ruffle his soft, dark hair before handing him the caramel chocolate bar. "Then you deserve this."
The kid’s eyes sparkled like stars as he took the chocolate bar, holding it in his hands as if it were a rare, precious treasure. A wide, overjoyed grin broke across his small face.
"Thank you, Big Brother!" he cheered happily.
"I’m Seth," I said with a smile, leaning back against the bench. "What’s your name, little man?"
"I’m Dylan!" the kid replied, carefully peeling back the wrapper.
I watched him take a tiny bite, his shoulders relaxing with contentment. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked down at him with a curious smile. "By the way, Dylan... didn’t your mom ever teach you not to accept food from strangers?"
Dylan chewed thoughtfully before looking up at me. "She did! But Mom said this whole building is safe because everyone working here is her friend, so nobody here is a stranger!"
’Everyone working here is her friend, huh?’ I thought, nodding slowly to myself.
I figured his mom was probably one of the venue coordinators or senior production staff working under Sarah. Given that the Rothschild and Fernando families had airtight security around the entire concert site, it made sense why she felt comfortable letting him wander the administrative corridors. He really couldn’t be in a safer place.
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying our treats.
There was something surprisingly peaceful about sitting on a quiet corridor bench with a kid, away from the loud rehearsal rooms, corporate politics, and high-society expectations. Seeing Dylan so happy over a simple chocolate bar brought a warm smile to my face.