Night Changes

-------Chapter Two-------

It just struck eight. Eight in the morning.

Boiling sounds come from a kettle on the kitchen counter and a click followed as it automatically offed itself. Immediately, Zayden Black enters from the arched doorway connecting the kitchen to other parts of the house, his hand deep inside his still damp rough hair, working it to and fro to dry it faster.

He dropped his phone on the tiled countertop and reached up to bring a mug out from a cupboard. He was quick in getting a teabag and a teaspoon of sugar into the cup before he filled it with the steamy hot water from the kettle.

The medium-sized kitchen is as clean as it can be, that is sparkling clean. Everything orderly like it had never been used before. From the dark cabinets, to the countertops, silver sink in the middle end, the fridge and the small white dining table at the center. Two large windows sit on one wall, letting in fresh earthly air in from the small garden outside the kitchen.

Zayden draws out a chair to sit down. He takes a sip from his tea and winced a little from its heat. Instantly, his phone, which was still on the kitchen counter snoozed and the black screen lit up.
Zayden frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he takes another sip before he stands up to retrieve it.

A message from Brian Brooks, his Executive Manager, popped up

'Good Morning Sir, sorry to disturb you but we have a problem. The delivery we made to Netbuzz on Friday was just sent back, we don't know the claims yet'

Without hesitation, Zayden darted straight through the door he had come from, and was out again in less than a minute, dressed, except for his jacket which he has swinging in his right arm and a folder in the other. He bolted the kitchen door quickly and darted to the spacious living room, the tea on the dining table long forgotten.

Zayden grabbed his car keys from a vase on the TV stand and headed to the door. In a hurry, he slipped on his jacket and rearranged his tie and is out of the house.

The rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky. It shone softly on the city streets, bringing a flurry of morning activity. Charles, Zayden's immediate neighbour, a newlywed who had moved in with his wife about half a year ago is busy with raking his front lawn. He is a morning person and is always doing one thing or another very early every day. He quickly waved his hand with a smile on his white oval face when he saw Zayden.
Zayden barely smiled as he waved back with a curt nod and slipped into his car. He is in a hurry.

Zayden's neighbours are as friendly as they can be, and not too nosy too. They respect each other's boundaries and that's why they get along well. Charles' wife, Gloria, is a nice young lady with a smile always plastered on her face. She tells stories cheerfully that reminds Zayden of his sister.

The neighbourhood thrived as Zayden zoomed off. People are already up and about their daily businesses, coming out from their houses, mostly red bricked, heaved up here and there by tree roots. The houses are spaced in lots. Most modest, few large, with white landing. They have foundation plantings, lawns and driveways. It is a nice place to live.

Zayden arrived at his place of work and humble self-rose company in the best time possible on a Wednesday with morning traffic congesting the city. He parked his car and stepped out immediately after he had carried the folder he came with. He stepped into the three-storied building and was greeted by Miguel Conti, the Italian receptionist.

He rode the elevator to the third floor where all the offices are and walked straight to his office. A knock came rather thunderously even before he was able to sit down.

"Come in"

The knob turned quickly and a young man in his mid-thirties stepped into the office with papers in his hands. He is medium built, tanned, and has very sharp eyes you won't fail to notice when you look at him. His hair is pushed back leaving no escape for any strand.