The Man Who Broke Raphael

Things That Never Change

"Stop driving like you're leading a funeral procession. We have time, Ethan," Raphael grumbled from the passenger seat. His figure looked faint, like a reflection shimmering in the rearview mirror, but Ethan knew for a fact that the man in the linen suit was actually sitting there.

"This is an old car, Raphael. If I push it, it'll drop dead on the spot," Ethan replied calmly, even though his right hand was gripping the gear shift tightly. Ston city’s streets that afternoon were a living hell of gridlock. Horns blared in a chaotic, demonic chorus.

"If it dies, I can jumpstart it with a jolt of cosmic energy. We could even fly right over this mess," Raphael said, his tone dripping with temptation. He took a sip of hot tea that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere in his hand.

"No need," Ethan cut him off.

"You always say 'no need.' That's exactly why your name isn't in life's Hall of Fame," Raphael looked at Ethan with a mock-sorrowful gaze. "Flashback, Ethan. Remember middle school? That science fair?"

Ethan sighed. "Not now, Raphael."

"Oh, definitely now. Remember when you had the perfect answers ready, but the judge gave the trophy to the principal's son instead? The kid who literally cheated on his way through?"

Ethan kept his eyes on the road. That memory wasn't a fresh wound, it was a hardened scar. "I remember," he muttered curtly.

"And then college! That thesis you spent two years on, correcting every single comma, only for your advisor to publish your research under his own name first? Is that enough proof for you that the pattern never changes?"

"Everyone knows how the world works, Raphael. Not just you."

"But you're the only one who chooses to stay in the 'loser's lane'!" Raphael's voice rose an octave, causing the fuel light on Ethan’s dashboard to blink wildly before finally stabilizing.

Ethan glanced at the dash, then at the seat beside him. "Was that you?"

"Consider it a form of cosmic dissatisfaction," Raphael defended himself nonchalantly.

The car crawled forward a few yards before stopping again, right in front of a massive billboard featuring Noah Ryker’s face on the company's "Man of the Year" poster. Noah wore an arrogant smirk in the photo, holding a plaque that Ethan should have been holding if the world were even slightly fair.

"Look at that face," Raphael pointed at the poster. "He has no genius. He has no loyalty. But he has 'results.' Why do you still follow these rigid rules that don't do a thing for you? Even the devil has stopped trying to recruit you because he knows you don't need tempting, you're already trapped by your own moral standards."

Ethan turned the wheel, pulling into a small roadside diner on the edge of the street. The place was packed with office workers seeking comfort in bowls of instant noodles and cheap packets of coffee. Ethan needed to breathe, not listen to a sermon from an angel.

"I'm not a loser, Raphael," Ethan said as he parked the car. "I'm just a man who refuses to trade his dignity for a corporate seat that someone else could take away tomorrow anyway."

They sat on creaky wooden stools. Ethan ordered a cup of black coffee. Raphael didn't order anything, immortal beings don't need calories, he just watched Ethan intently.

"You met with your boss earlier," Raphael remarked, his tone softer this time, almost bordering on pity. "Eric gave Noah a bonus and you got nothing. What are you feeling deep down? Don't lie. I can hear your pulse."

"Angry?" Ethan gave a bitter chuckle. "Maybe a little. Maybe I just wish I could turn back time."

"Aha! That's human. If you're angry, make them suffer," Raphael leaned in, his eyes gleaming. "I could make Noah develop a sudden speech impediment every time he lies. Imagine his presentation to the board when his tongue suddenly starts making duck noises. Hilarious, right?"

Ethan sipped his coffee, tasting the perfect bitterness on his tongue. "You're something else, Raphael."

"Laughing at him with a little sabotage isn't a crime," Raphael let out a long sigh, his shadow seeming to blend into the darkness outside the diner. "Once, I was a protector of prophets. I saw them suffer, but they had a vision. You? You're just a marketing employee who has won absolutely nothing."

"Who says I haven't won anything?" Ethan set his cup down.

Raphael fell silent, waiting.

"Last night, an intern named Dito was almost in tears because his data was a complete mess," Ethan said. "I helped him fix it on the down-low so he wouldn't get fired. Today, seeing him give a great presentation and get praised by Eric. I felt satisfied."

"That's not a win, Ethan! That's just stupid altruism. You let that kid steal your spotlight with your own expertise," Raphael rubbed his temples in a very human gesture of frustration. "You are the strangest man I've followed in three thousand years of history."

"And you're the loudest angel I've met in thirty years of life," Ethan replied, standing up. He left the exact change on the table.

"Tomorrow is the monthly presentation," Raphael warned as they walked back to the car. "Noah has already set a trap for you to make a fatal technical error that will end your career for good. He wants you out. You still want to stick to your 'principles'?"

Ethan opened the car door, climbed in, and started the engine, which roared reluctantly once again. He looked toward his office, which was visible in the distance, standing tall as a monument to injustice.

"Tomorrow, I'll prepare a draft that's even more perfect, Raphael," Ethan said firmly.

"So Noah can steal it again?"

"So that when he steals it, he'll realize he can't actually pull it off without my brainpower," Ethan gave a faint smile. It was a rare smile, the kind worn by someone who knows a battle isn't won with one punch, but with endless endurance.

Raphael leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed as if he were tired of seeing the same cycle repeat itself. "One day, Ethan. One day, this world will truly break you until there's nothing left to defend."

"Maybe," Ethan replied as he shifted into gear. "But not tonight."

The car drove off into the city's hustle and bustle. In the passenger seat, the angel stopped offering miracles, he just sat in silence, staring at the man beside him who always lost but never felt defeated. To Raphael, Ethan Gray was the most annoying riddle in the long history of human existence. A man who refused to win if it meant he had to stop being himself.

The things that never changed in Ethan’s life were indeed painful. But Ethan had made peace with the fact that true success isn't measured by the volume of applause, but by the integrity of the conscience that remains when the stage lights go out.

And for an angel as old as Raphael, watching someone be so disciplined in their losses was the most terrifying, and yet most beautiful, thing he had ever witnessed.

The night grew deeper. Ethan returned to his quiet apartment, where tomorrow's failure was already waiting. But he didn't even glance at Raphael, who slowly faded into the shadows of his bedroom door, nursing a million questions about whether humans were truly meant to be this difficult to understand