Ethan的生活

Chapter 1: Wakey Wakey, Ethan!

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Ethan’s alarm screamed like a fire drill. He slapped it blindly and missed. Then again. Finally, he found the snooze button and hit it like it owed him money.

6:30 a.m. in Shenzhen. A warm May morning. Birds outside were chirping like they’d had too much coffee.

He groaned and rolled out of bed, landing with a soft thump on his bedroom floor.

“I swear this floor gets harder every morning,” he muttered, pushing himself up.

His room was small but cozy. One desk, one chair, a laptop, a half-dead plant, and clothes that seemed to multiply overnight. On the wall, a sticky note read: “You’re not late until you stop trying.” Ethan squinted at it.

“Whatever, Past Me.”

Out in the kitchen, someone was already clanking around.

“Morning, Ethan!” called out Leo, his roommate, who was already halfway through a steaming bowl of noodles.

“How are you so alive this early?” Ethan asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Because I didn’t stay up watching Python tutorials until 2 a.m.,” Leo grinned.

“Touché.”

Ethan opened the fridge. One egg. A half tomato. Milk that looked suspicious.

“Breakfast of champions,” he mumbled. He cracked the egg into the pan.

“You’re gonna be late again,” Leo said without looking.

“I’ve mastered the art of getting ready in twelve minutes,” Ethan replied confidently.

“You mean chaotically stumbling around the house?”

“Exactly.”

As he waited for the egg to sizzle, another roommate stumbled in—Yuki, hair a mess, blanket wrapped around like a cape.

“Is it Monday again?” she groaned.

“Every week,” Ethan said. “Like clockwork.”

Yuki stared at the kettle, willing it to boil faster.

“Why do we live like this?”

“For the rent savings,” Ethan and Leo said in unison.

Ethan shoved the egg onto a piece of toast, added a slice of tomato, and dashed to the bathroom.

Quick teeth brush. Splash of water. Frantic search for socks. Wrong socks. One black, one blue. Good enough.

He ran back to his room, grabbed his work bag, phone, and power bank. One last glance in the mirror.

“You look… present,” he told his reflection. That would have to do.

As he opened the front door, Yuki called, “Battery check!”

Ethan checked his electric scooter’s battery app. 32%.

“It’s gonna be a thrill ride,” he said with a wink.

---

Chapter 2: The Scooter Chronicles

Ethan zoomed out of the building’s gate like a caffeinated pigeon.

The morning breeze slapped him awake. Shenzhen streets were already alive—old men walking tiny dogs, street vendors steaming buns, delivery guys racing like it was the Olympics.

His scooter weaved through the side streets. He passed Mrs. Lin’s breakfast shop. She was flipping scallion pancakes like a ninja.

“Morning, Ethan! You want one?”

“Next time! Late!” he shouted, speeding by.

His phone buzzed. A message from his manager:
[8:01] Manager Jane: Morning, team. Let’s have a quick sync-up at 9:15. Bring yesterday’s report.

“Yikes,” Ethan muttered.

He had finished 80% of the report. The remaining 20% was just… vibes.

A car door opened suddenly in front of him. He swerved, barely missing it.

“WATCH IT!” he yelled.

The driver looked shocked. “Sorry! Didn’t see you!”

“It’s okay! I like living on the edge!” Ethan replied sarcastically, zooming off.

He took a shortcut through the park. Kids were doing morning exercises in school uniforms, jumping like popcorn.

His scooter beeped. Low battery.

“Come on, baby, hold it together,” he whispered.

At a red light, he pulled up next to a delivery driver.

“How far you got?” the man asked.

“Three kilometers. Battery’s at 12%.”

“You’ll make it. Barely. Just don’t stop at lights.”

“Sound advice,” Ethan laughed.

Miraculously, the scooter didn’t die. At 8:43 a.m., he skidded to a stop in front of his office building.

He parked, gave the scooter a loving pat. “You’re the real MVP.”

In the elevator, he caught his breath and checked his reflection again. One hair sticking up like a unicorn horn.

“Perfect,” he said flatly.

The door dinged open.

“Morning, Ethan,” said Lily from Finance.

“Morning!” he said, trying to fix his hair without looking like he was fixing his hair.

The day had just begun, and it was already a mess.

But hey—that’s real life.

---

Chapter 3: Sync-Up Shenanigans

Ethan slipped into the office like a ninja—except ninjas don’t usually wear mismatched socks and carry a breakfast sandwich in their mouth.

8:48 a.m.
He had exactly 27 minutes before the team sync. Enough time to finish the report. Hopefully.

He tiptoed past the front desk.

“Morning, Ethan,” the receptionist said.

Ethan choked slightly on his sandwich. “Mmrnnggh—good morning!”

He made it to his desk without further embarrassment. His teammate Kevin looked up from his monitor.

“You look… awake,” Kevin said, sipping coffee.

“I’m 70% human, 30% scooter fumes,” Ethan replied, dropping into his chair.

He opened his laptop. Excel. Python script. Email. Slack. Tabs. Tabs. More tabs.

His desktop looked like a war zone.

He scrolled to the report.
Only three charts left.
Easy, right?

Wrong.

The Excel file crashed.

“No no no no—” he muttered.

Kevin glanced over. “Excel died again?”

“It’s being dramatic.”

“Give it some coffee.”

“I gave it hope. That should’ve been enough.”

After a forced reboot and a prayer to the Spreadsheet Gods, the file reopened.

He dragged the charts in. Pie. Bar. Line.

Done. Well, done-ish.

At 9:13 a.m., he clicked Save As and named the file:
report_final_v3_definitely_final_this_time.xlsx

Right on time.

He joined the Zoom call. Six little faces appeared on screen.
Manager Jane, Kevin, Lily, Alex, Zoe, and Tom.

Jane smiled. “Morning, team. Everyone awake?”

“No promises,” Ethan muttered, forgetting his mic was on.

Everyone laughed.

Jane raised an eyebrow. “Well, Ethan, glad you’re here—awake or not. Let’s start with your update.”

Ethan straightened up. “Yes. So, for yesterday’s data…”

He walked through the charts, keeping his tone casual. Halfway through, his stomach growled loudly. Like a small dragon waking up.

Kevin coughed to hide a laugh.

Jane nodded. “Thanks, Ethan. Nice visual work. Also, eat breakfast next time?”

“Working on it,” Ethan grinned.

---

Chapter 4: Roommate Roulette

That night, Ethan got home around 7 p.m., the scooter battery just barely surviving another day.

The apartment smelled… interesting.

He opened the front door and was hit with a wave of… something garlicky, spicy, and suspiciously smoky.

“Someone summon a fire spirit?” Ethan called.

Yuki appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding a pan like a shield.

“It’s not burnt! It’s crispy!”

Leo peeked from behind the fridge door. “She tried to stir-fry three kinds of tofu at once.”

“I wanted variety,” Yuki said defensively.

“One of them is black now.”

“It’s charcoal tofu. Very artisan.”

Ethan laughed and dropped his bag on the couch.
“Alright, whose turn is it to cook tomorrow?”

Everyone froze.

“…Not me,” Leo said quickly.

“Not it!” Yuki shouted.

The fourth roommate, Ben, walked out of his room with headphones still on.
“What are we not-ing?”

“Cooking duty,” Ethan said.

Ben nodded. “Cool. I vote Ethan.”

“Wait, what?!”

“You didn’t say ‘not it’ in time.”

“That’s playground logic!”

“House law,” Yuki shrugged. “Ben’s right.”

Ethan sighed. “Fine. I’ll cook. But you’re all eating whatever I make. No complaints.”

“As long as it doesn’t kill us,” Leo said.

“It’ll be edible. Probably.”

Later, they all sat in the living room with instant noodles, since Yuki’s tofu experiment was declared a non-edible art piece.

Leo turned on the TV. Some dating reality show.

“Why do they always pick the guy with no job and too much hair gel?” Yuki complained.

“Drama sells,” said Ben, mouth full of noodles.

Ethan slurped quietly, then asked, “You ever think about how we’re just side characters in someone else’s show?”

They all stared at him.

“Dude, that’s too deep for noodle hour,” Leo said.

Ethan leaned back on the couch, smiling.
“Just saying. If I’m a side character, I at least want good lighting.”