Tyler. That's me.
I had my exclusive day off yesterday multiple drinks, multiple meals, multiple everything. It felt just like the first time I got here. Except now, I knew how things were done. I knew what to expect, how to enjoy it, and I lived my day to the fullest.
It wasn't until I was about to sleep that a letter arrived.
I was to pack my bags. I'd be flying to Russia. Just like that? No warning? No processing time? No "Hey, drop your personal information so we can get your flight details sorted"? The brown-haired guy delivering the message simply said, "We're taking a private jet."
Of course. What was I even thinking? A man who spends thousands of dollars on a golden mug obviously isn't flying commercial.
So I stood up. Then stood up again. I don't know why I guess it took a second to process. It was still night. I hadn't even slept yet.
