Good question, Gwen’s dad.
You’ve actually got stumped.
Lorien thought for all of 0.01 seconds. If he tried to brag outright, he might leave George speechless—but it’d be much better to let George connect the dots himself. That way, he could still pull off the "impressive" act without looking like he was trying too hard.
So, after a brief pause, Lorien replied casually,
"I went with a friend."
And it was true—Stephen was his friend. No lies, no embellishnt.
"In that case, your friend must be quite impressive as well," George said, nodding in satisfaction again.
Why? Because in his mind, people who went with a group or a ntor were just interns or assistants. But going independently—especially with a friend—was sothing else entirely.
It strongly suggested that Lorien was a doctor. And that his friend was also a doctor.
Perfect. That ant his daughter’s friends were all solid people. Doctors! That was a far cry from the fresh-out-of-school street kids from Queens. George had no interest in seeing his daughter befriend those types. But a doctor? That was more than acceptable.
...
The two of them kept walking and talking, George growing more and more pleased with Lorien by the minute—practically one step away from declaring him his future son-in-law.
They strolled along the street until they ca across an oak bar.
It’s worth noting—not all bars in the U.S. are the noisy, dance-club kind. There are many varieties. Whiskey bars serve only whiskey and ice water. Oak bars specialize in drinks aged in oak barrels. And there are countless other types, so you can always find one that matches your personality.
The bar they’d co across was one of the oak variety—oak décor, a quiet atmosphere, and a radio softly playing classic tunes.
The two stepped inside. Since George was the one who had invited Lorien out for a talk, he went ahead and paid for the drinks.
"Want sothing to drink? Oh, and—you can drink alcohol, right?"
"Sure. I just don’t drink often. Sothing light will do."
"Two light ones, then."
The drinks arrived not long after, and they weren’t small by any ans—each ca in a hefty one-liter glass, the kind you had to grip by the handle.
Both n lifted their glasses and took a sip.
George’s satisfaction grew yet again. Lorien had said he didn’t drink much, and to George, that was exactly what a doctor should be like—moderation.
He nodded approvingly, took another sip, and spoke openly.
"To be honest, I’ve always worried Gwen’s friends might not be the best influence. But from what I’ve seen tonight, you seem more than fine."
Lorien took a slow drink before replying in an even tone.
"Mr. George, Gwen is a smart girl. You don’t need to see her the sa way you did when she was little. She’s grown now, with her own ideas. She needs guidance, not a leash."
George’s eyes lit up.
That kind of perspective wasn’t sothing just anyone could express.
"You’re right. That’s why I don’t stop her from making friends—but I do make sure she doesn’t make the wrong ones. Of course, I’m not talking about you. You know I’m a cop, and I’ve seen too much of the darkness and chaos in this world. That’s why I care so much about my daughter’s safety and her future."
Lorien nodded, taking another sip.
"And I think you’re right to do so. A daughter should be well-raised, but it’s even more important to cultivate her character and broaden her horizons. Only then can she truly beco an outstanding woman. I’m guessing you were the one who agreed to and supported her going to that dical exchange eting?"
George had just taken a drink, but those words stopped him cold. His opinion of Lorien had already been rising steadily—now it spiked sharply upward.
This wasn’t the thinking of an average person, let alone so immature kid.
He was a cop—more than that, the police chief. He’d t, talked to, and studied more people than most could imagine. And people like Lorien? Extrely rare.
It left him wondering—just who exactly was this man?
"Yes. That’s right." George collected himself, set his glass down, and said, "I wanted her to et more capable, accomplished people at that conference."
He glanced at the ti—it was already close to eleven. If he stayed much longer, Gwen’s mother might not even let him in.
So he decided to get straight to the point.
"By the way, I don’t think I’ve gotten your na yet."
"Lorien Su." Lorien smiled knowingly as he said it. "Didn’t Gwen ever ntion it?"
"Wait!"
The instant George heard the na, his eyes widened.
"The ’Su’ Gwen talked about at the dinner table—that’s your full na?!"
The mont it clicked, his mind flashed back. Of course—the na she’d ntioned before was Lorien Su.
"Damn it, I should’ve realized earlier! That damned Lizard incident had running around like crazy..." George cursed himself inwardly.
Then, with dawning shock, he asked, "So your friend is..."
"Stephen Strange." Lorien drained the last sip of his drink and set the glass on the table.
"I rode with him to the exchange that day."
George: !!!
...
(80 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake
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