Let's get this show on the road.

Our apprentice's face went from focused and calm to energetic and presentable near-instantly.

"Ah, good morning! You two are...Bridger Blaithe and Myla Marika, yes?" Our apprentice began with a beaming smile, something uncommon for his usually subdued disposition.

"I'm your surveyor, Keith Kirby, and today I'll be doing a routine check on the two of you. It won't take long, but I hope I'm not too much of a bother." He continued, not slurring a single word and delivering it with perfect intonation.

I had my doubts due to Keith's usual nature, but seeing him now, it felt like he was a different person. It could have been that we were in a controlled environment and that he was well acquainted with his so-called clients. But part of me recalled back to Myla's words regarding this very same worry I had. Perhaps in truth, he did have it in him to balance his personality with his professionalism, a trait that is key in any job, even more so ours.

"So, if it's okay with you, I'd like to begin." Our apprentice said, holding the clipboard up.

"Oh, right. Well, so far...It's been fine?" Acting is far from my strong suit, so my words came out with hesitation behind them.

Even so, neither Myla nor Keith seemed to bring much attention to it, the conversation continuing smoothly.

"I see." He wrote something down before looking back up, "Could you go into specifics? Perhaps things you've come to appreciate about your partner? Although, feel free to lay down any gripes too."

If you knock on the devil's door, be prepared for someone to answer.

That is what I would say, but we were here to be at least somewhat convincing. And while we clashed often, I wasn't blind to the many things I've come to learn about my dear partner throughout our time together, be it bad or good.

"Hmm, well, if I had to pick a few..." I put a hand to my chin, genuinely browsing my memories to recall. I was in thought, but I could tell Myla was giving off a don't even bother vibe, seeming to think I was ready to reply with more sarcasm than an edgy teenager.

"I guess it'd have to be her calm, composed, hell, even regal aura. It feels like she's so far away sometimes, but in reality, it feels so easy to just talk with her, y'know?" I spoke what came to mind first, and while Keith maintained a focused expression as he continued to write, Myla seemed to be somewhat surprised at my words.

Though she's looking at me like I'm a deaf man selling headphones...

"Sure, we can go from long stretches of witty exchanges to complete silence, but it feels...cozy." I finished, laying down what to me at least sounded like a believable enough reply.

That or I appreciate the reprieve after weathering the storm.

"Oh, that's wonderful. Thank you then, Mister Blaithe. Moving on, Miss Marika, care to try?" Keith pointed towards her with a pen, maintaining a customer-friendly smile.

Myla didn't reply, looking down with a numb expression. It wasn't the one she usually carried, not one of composure and control but of perplexity. We waited for her reply, which we didn't get until I spoke.

"Umm, Myla? I like your silence, but this is probably not the best time." I said with a laugh, trying to play into the role.

Myla's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, signifying signs of life and an immediate return to her typical self.

"I do apologize, dear," She began, hiding her lips with a hand, "I found myself lost in the number of amicable traits you have. I was left speechless." And she finished with the same sarcasm I tried so hard to avoid.

At least she's somewhat subtle about it.

She collected herself, the cold mist surrounding her again as she readied to speak.

"I find it equally enjoyable to talk with him, even if it can be tiring. And while sometimes it feels like he's swinging blindly, I can always tell there's a genuine intent behind him. And as he said, I can rely on him to be willing to keep up with my own peculiarities." Her response was in a reserved but honest tone, what felt like a combination of cold indifference and warm sincerity.

I do wish you slowed down for me sometimes.

Still, I couldn't deny that it felt nice hearing her words. Perhaps I was just that deprived of validation, or maybe it just felt good to be appreciated, even if it was just an act.

"So you do have it in you to be nice to me," I whispered into my dear partner's ear, straddling the line of teasing and thanking.

All I received, in turn, was cold silence, but I took that as meaning she didn't have a good excuse to deny her words.

That or she doesn't want to bother. But we're all about being optimistic in this household.

As I went through my thoughts, the sound of inked metal gliding on paper returned my senses, my eyes beholding our young apprentice - diligently writing something down.

"Alright, so in short, this past month, you've taken the time to learn and appreciate things about each other while also trying to accept your partner's peculiarities, correct?" Keith asked, still not looking up from the clipboard.

"Pretty much," I replied.

"And aside from that, there were no other notable occurrences?"

"Not any that we can recall," Myla answered, more than likely seeing this as her opportunity to free herself.

"Noted." And as he seemed to finish his makeshift report, his stereotypically beaming yet fake smile faded into the one he wore when being honest, a far more timid but nonetheless charming expression.

"So, in my professional opinion..." He began, turning the clipboard around to show us what he concluded.

"You need to get better acting lessons." And those were the exact same words written on the paper, along with random lines and doodles he drew to keep up his own character.

Neither Myla nor I could offer a proper reply or excuse, accepting our defeat with silence as our apprentice covered his mouth to laugh.

"Still, you did this to cheer me up, right?" He asked, but before either of us could say anything, he continued.

"It's alright. I'm not upset or anything. I guess I just set my expectations too high. This is an office job, after all."

I wonder what exactly those expectations were. But I guess, for now, we're no closer to finding out, huh?

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Myla and I both breathed a sigh of relief, letting our bodies turn slack on the couch as we realized our efforts were for naught. Our synchronization gave Keith another hit of dopamine as he chuckled.

"Well, I'll look forward to the actual counseling."

"The clients today aren't too eccentric, so it should be fine. Right, Myla?" I faced my partner but found her amber eyes clouded by a bright light.

"Oh? D'you get a message or something?"

"Yes, it's from Lily, here." She placed the phone between us, prompting me to lean in closer.

Before I could scan the text, however, something else caught my eye first.

"You know, you should tie your hair up like that more. It looks good." I commented on her twisted braid of silver - getting a closer look allowed me to appreciate it as it sat on her shoulder.

"It usually takes too much time to be practical, so don't get used to it," Myla replied, not taking a compliment sitting down.

"Tsk-tsk, my dear partner. That's the entire appeal of it." I threw back a semi-sarcastic grin as she eyed me with discontentment.

"Just go read it."

You try to be appreciative.

Upon reading it, my eyes widened as I viewed the digital letter.

"Ah, I see. So Lily's got a gig with the tri-O tomorrow night." I smiled as I read through the message, the fruits of our labor displayed in the text.

"Indeed. It seems she managed to catch a break from learning how to edit and decided to invite us to watch." She added, another reminder of our handiwork.

It's not like J.C. nags me about it every time we meet.

"Well, I am free tomorrow. Is there a dress code we have to worry about?" Upon hearing my question, Myla sent a message, and after a moment, her phone vibrated.

"Lily says there isn't one but says she wants to take pictures with us to send to Nash, so it may be best to wear something other than our uniforms," Myla added the last part, showing her consideration to anyone that isn't me.

"Alright then. It said around seven o'clock, right?"

"Yes."

"Perfect! Wanna just eat dinner there, then?" I asked with an eager smile, earning nothing but exasperation from my dear partner.

"Everywhere we go, it's always food first with you, isn't it?"

"So what? Whenever I suggest we eat somewhere different, you don't oppose now, do you?" I shot back with an accusing smirk. She sighed before pulling herself and her phone away from me and speaking.

"Fine. I'll check if the reviews on it are promising." I snickered in victory, though fully knowing that both sides won in this scenario. It was only then that I realized our third member's wordlessness.

"Ah, Keith! Sorry about that. We got a message from a client and, well, long story short she's sort of a part of a jazz band, and she invited us out and-"

"Oh! No, it's fine." He reassured me as his face turned from intrigued to surprised, "I actually got a message from Alexandre as well, so I'll be back in a moment." Our apprentice added, standing up and taking the empty cans from us before leaving.

Wait, why didn't we get one instead? Is Alex forcing work onto him? I've been proven wrong. This is just like an actual internship.

"...So you guys can act like one after all..." He seemed to whisper something as he exited, though it was difficult to hear, and reading his lips from my angle was impossible.

"Did he say something?" I asked Myla, who seemed to overhear it as well.

"If we had to hear it, he wouldn't have whispered. Best to pay it no mind." She replied cooly and sharply before standing up to return to her desk behind me.

While I spout many falsehoods and hyperbole regarding my dear partner, I spoke honestly during our little skit - the truest of those statements was the sudden solace that proceeded our conversations. Call me old, but my preferred company was people who would put up with my blabbering but knew when to stay quiet and unwind. But as much as I enjoyed the respite between our exchanges of wit and turbulent rapport, I did have a question egging me remaining in my mind.

"By the way, random question, but what you said earlier," I began, Myla tilting her head slightly in response.

"Do you actually think of me that way or-"

"Ah, that. Most of what I said are the frequent answers clients in failing relationships have when faced with a similar question." While I was already surprised at myself for asking for clarification, her sudden response caught me off guard even more.

"They usually answer with these vague and general traits to hide the cracks in their situation. I'm surprised you failed to notice that yourself. So, why do you ask?" She replied concisely but brutally. It was immediate, with her cold voice adding a sting that felt more intentional than natural.

I expected so little, and yet you hurt me so much.

"Why do I even bother sometimes?"

"Were you expecting me to play into the role that much?" My dear partner asked with a raised eyebrow, oblivious to my shortly-lived belief in her acknowledgment of my good traits.

"And here I was actually trying to be honest..." Feeling defeated, I sunk into the black cushioning of our office's furniture while releasing a complacent sigh. "The least you could do was return the favor," I added as I threw my head over the couch, getting an upside-down view of my partner.

I couldn't tell if it was the already creeping fatigue of the day, the particular hue the morning star's rays took, or the inverted angle of my view, but something about Myla's expression was different. While her nonplussed and stringent aura remained, it felt as though something about her amber eyes was different. Not only that, lending credence to my earlier assumption of the room's lighting having something to do with my intrigue was the subtle difference in her usually pale but soft complexion.

"Hmm? Myla...? You look...Brighter today." I asked, blood slowly rushing to my head as I hung it.

At least she's smiling from this angle.

"You're being rather observant of me today, aren't you? Are you that desperate for things to mock me for this early in the day?" She shot back, the smile on her face growing.

"You're impossible to compliment, you know that?" Whether it was as part of an act or as a random observation, sticks, stones, or kind words couldn't pierce her icy shell.

"I just find it impossible to accept compliments from you." A contrarian when it came to me, oh, how special I felt.

"That's fair. But does that mean you'd rather me insult you?"

"If that means I can return the favor, then we might be able to reach an agreement." Myla accepted with the ends of her lips curving the slightest bit upward, a smile not born from my upturned view.

"And here I thought we made that unspoken pact a week after we met." I continued with a laugh, letting my head dangle as we bantered.

Why take drugs when you can just let the blood rush into your squishy think tank?

"Is that so? Then it's best I continue to uphold my end of the bargain." She concluded as she leaned back into her chair - both of us finished our office work meant we could lounge for the time being.

Well, I guess this isn't that bad.

As nice as it would've been to hear that Myla's earlier words were genuine, I'd gladly take our exchanges of jabs at each other any day - when it came to choosing a devil, it was best to pick the one I knew. But as enjoyable as it would be to relish the tranquil atmosphere of our marble corners, our actual work was far from over.

"We don't have any weird requests or clients today, do we?" I asked with my eyes closed, though Myla's stiff voice painted more than enough of a picture in my head as she spoke.

"As much as I'd like to scold you for using such words to describe them, looking at our workload, there is a distinct lack of such persons today. Why do you bring it up?"

"Call it a hunch, but that's probably intentional. I've talked to some people, and it seems they took some of the more eccentric clients off our hands to give Keith a better experience." I added, finally raising my head as I began to get dizzy.

I opened my eyes and turned back to her as she laid her chin on her hand in thought.

"That would make things smoother, but who's to say it's what Keith needs from this stint," Myla asked after a moment of pondering.

"What do you mean by that?"

"If you don't mind entertaining my own intuition, Keith is clearly here to receive some advice for his relationship, albeit in an unconventional manner, yes?" I nodded along, letting her continue her inference.

"With that in mind, if one were to search for such information on their own, where would they be able to attain it?" She asked me, her tone indicating her rhetoric.

"Where else but the job that lets you deal with the ins and outs of relationships, huh?"

"Indeed. It seems I have no need to elaborate further." Myla finished, sinking into her chair as she allowed me to contemplate it for myself.

All things considered, it was a solid assumption to make. But it was also incomplete, giving us even more questions to answer. While yes, if Keith truly wanted to learn something on his own without risking his own relationship, getting to observe from the sidelines professionals at work on authentic couples was a good idea. But if that was the case, what did he want to understand? Why did he want to learn? It felt like we were making no progress as our answers only created more questions, but such was the life of a surveyor.

Even so, this situation is well beyond our resume and pay grade.

But not all hope was lost. The day was young, and our spirits were still alive. And as my internal clock continued to chime away, I knew it was almost time to start. I stood up from the sofa, stretching my arms out. Myla followed my lead, and as we readied ourselves, the door opened to reveal our third member standing in the doorway with an expression of subdued enthusiasm.

"Alright, let's go!" I exclaimed with eagerness as we began walking through the ever-familiar break area of us surveyors. The only difference this day's exit was that we had another set of footsteps behind our coattails.

And so it begins.

"I forgot the file in the office, didn't I?"

"I don't have the car keys either." My dear partner added as we both stopped dead in our tracks.

"...I'll go get them...Sorry for rushing." Keith said while lowering his head.

Oh boy, it begins indeed.