Apart from Bryan's latest stunt, life at the factory wasn't too bad. He still brought me lunch every day — something I never refused, even if I didn't want to admit it. But lately? His obsession reached a whole new level. The way he flaunted how ridiculously handsome he was? It didn't escape the notice of every girl in the factory. Everywhere he went, girls flocked around him like moths to a flame. And honestly? I think he loved the attention.
Whether he was doing it on purpose or just couldn't help himself, I honestly didn't feel a thing. Because who would even want someone like me? I'm already 18 this year, but I still look like I'm 12. Tiny frame, baby face — most guys probably assume I'm underage and shy away, thinking it's some sort of child abuse waiting to happen.
I've watched my friends — girls my age and even younger — parade in and out of relationships like it's a sport. Breakups, makeups, heartbreaks — they've been through it all. Meanwhile, I'm still here, an island in a sea of teenage drama.
I crave the kind of love where someone cares for you so deeply, it's like their life depends on it. I've dreamed of that feeling — the kind that makes your heart race and your world feel safe. But at the same time, there's a dark shadow lurking inside me. I'm terrified. Terrified as if I've already lived through heartbreak and the pain still echoes inside my chest. I don't even know what I'm really afraid of — maybe rejection, maybe betrayal — but no matter who shows interest, I shut it down before it can even bloom. I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to love. Call me what you want, but I'm a pathetic loser in this game.
Lately, Bryan and I have been on edge. I find myself snapping at him more than usual, and maybe it's for the best — creating distance before things get worse. The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife.
One day, we were chatting with the team during our break when Vivian, never one to hold back, blurted out, "So, when will you get yourself a boyfriend? Or are you a lesbian?"
I laughed it off, pretending it was just a joke. "No, I'm not a lesbian," I said, trying to sound casual. "Besides, now's definitely not the time to be worrying about a boyfriend."
Before I could breathe easy, Nelly — another colleague — jumped in, defending me like a knight. "Hey, can you girls leave my little Miss Einstein alone? She's got bigger dreams than boyfriend drama. She wants to be a medical doctor, you know?"
The air shifted, and then Bryan, ever the clown, barged in with his usual crude humor. "She doesn't want a boyfriend — she just wants to be eaten off by one."
The room exploded with laughter. Even the girls I usually bring food to were cracking up like it was the funniest thing they'd heard all day. But inside, something snapped.
I locked eyes with Bryan. I could see it — he knew he'd crossed a line, but there was this twisted, triumphant smirk curling on his lips, like he'd won some petty battle.
But here's the thing: some guys? They get petty when you reject them. Since I told Bryan "no," to his stupid and lame proposal ,
he stopped buying me lunch, stopped tagging along everywhere I went, and instead, he distanced himself — but didn't stop picking on me.
Is that how a mature guy acts? I don't think so. It's like he couldn't handle rejection, and instead of moving on like an adult, he turned bitter and mean.
I guess Bryan was just not mature enough to swallow rejection. Seriously, some people just can't handle a "no."
It was nearing the end of our shift, and we were finally having a calm conversation — or so I thought. Out of nowhere, Bryan crashed into the middle like a wrecking ball, stealing the spotlight like it was his birthright. I'd had enough.
"What the hell, Bryan? Are you nuts or what?" I snapped, glaring right at him.
Without missing a beat, he fired back, "You're the one who's nuts!" His tone was dripping with venom.
That set me off like a spark on dry grass. Suddenly, it felt like we were both releasing every bottled-up emotion, every frustration we'd been holding back. Insults flew fast and furious from my mouth, and he hit back just as hard.
Then, Bryan crossed a line — the kind that shakes you to your core. He hurled a savage insult at my family, calling them "pitiful, wretched, miserable, pathetic, hopeless, incompetent."
He accused my parents of collecting money from a complete stranger — *him* — without even knowing what his intentions were. It was like being hit by a bolt of lightning. I froze, dumbfounded.
Did he just say my parents were taking money from him?
The words echoed in my mind, shattering the little world I thought I knew. Was my family really involved in something shady? Or was this just another one of Bryan's cruel lies?
The factory noise faded into the background as a cold wave of shock washed over me, leaving me trembling. This was more than just a spat now — it was war.
My world shattered into a million pieces in that instant. I had always believed my parents' small business was finally starting to bring in some profit. But reality slapped me hard across the face — every penny, every dime, all belonged to Bryan.
No wonder he called them incompetent.
I sank into silence as the factory erupted into chaos around me. Workers from another unit stopped what they were doing, drawn in by the explosive argument echoing through the halls.
Then it hit me — a loud shout pierced through the noise. "Pearl!!!"
Yeah, it's me — Pearl. I guess I never bothered to tell you my name. Not that it matters, but it's kind of beautiful, isn't it?
That moment? The name didn't matter. What mattered was the whispers, the venomous gossip spreading like wildfire.
"I thought little Miss Einstein was a virtuous woman, upright and outstanding... but turns out she's just a gold digger," one sneered.
My blood boiled. Without even realizing it, I burst out, voice trembling with fury, "Did you tell everyone how you were rejected by me? Is that why you're turning this into a bitter, twisted vendetta?"
The whole factory fell silent — like the calm before a storm. And I knew deep down, this fight was far from over.
"How's that the reason you turned bitter and resentful?" I snapped, my voice sharp like a whip. "You're nothing but a pathetic loser, Bryan — a coward who can't handle rejection. So you decide to dump all your anger on me like I'm the villain in your little drama?"
The room buzzed with excitement.
"Omg, little Miss Einstein's got fire! I'm here for it!" someone whispered with a grin.
Bryan's eyes burned with fury as he lunged at me, snarling like a lion ready to strike. The tension was electric — like the whole factory was about to explode.
Then—BOOM!—a booming voice cut through the chaos:
"What in the world is going on here?!"
Everyone froze and turned. The manager appeared, striding toward us with a sharp-eyed client tagging along. This wasn't just any visitor — he was here to inspect the factory, and maybe invest.
My heart slammed against my ribs. Time slowed.
Right then, I knew my golden days at this factory were over.
And it was all because of *him* — Bryan, the king of petty drama and destroyed dreams.
Bryan stood there, chest heaving, eyes flickering between anger and shame. The whole room was staring, waiting for the fireworks to explode — but instead, he just backed down like a cornered dog.
The manager cleared his throat. "This kind of behavior... is unacceptable." His gaze locked on Bryan, then shifted to me. "Pearl, right? We'll talk later."
The client nodded, intrigued. I could almost feel the weight of opportunity hanging in the air — a chance for something better, something bigger than this factory nightmare.
But Bryan? He was already plotting his next move, his venomous glare promising this wasn't over.
And me? I stood there, heart pounding, a fierce fire lighting inside me. No more letting people like Bryan drag me down. This was my story — and I was ready to rewrite it, one savage chapter at a time.