Damian and my childhood best friend, Rick, got into a fight. Over a scholarship girl. In the sterile corridor of the hospital, I knelt before Damian, dabbing antiseptic on his split lip. He watched me through narrowed eyes, his gaze sharp and calculating. "Bella told me you accused her of stealing money back at the dorms. Is that true?" Bella. The scholarship girl. There was no way to deny it. "Yes," I whispered. Damian's voice remained deceptively gentle. "Then when we get back, you'll kneel on the gravel path for three hours. As penance." I accepted, the familiar sting of submission already settling in my gut. But from the side, Rick kicked a chair, the metal shrieking against the linoleum. "Zoe, have you lost your goddamn mind? Where's your spine? Are you just going to let him walk all over you like this?" I turned to look at him, my expression unreadable. "Mr. Kesling lent me the money. I owe him this." Rick’s face went rigid. I could see the memory flash in his eyes—a year ago, when he'd frozen me out for Bella's sake. When he’d left me standing outside his door, refusing to lend me the money for my mother's surgery. 1 "Bella was telling me today, about last year… our freshman year…" Damian looked at me, his voice a soft murmur that did little to hide the steel beneath. "You accused her of stealing money. Did that happen?" The hand holding the cotton swab trembled slightly. Bella and I were roommates. And yes, last year, I’d found the $2,000 in cash I’d lost tucked under her pillow. She insisted someone had framed her, planting it there to make her look like a thief. In the end, the matter was dropped, unresolved. But Bella was the girl Damian had placed on a pedestal. Arguing was pointless; he would only ever believe her. So I just said, "Yes." I added, "I'll apologize to her when I get back to campus tomorrow." Damian shook his head, a slow, deliberate motion. "Not enough." "When we get home, you'll go out to the gravel path by the entrance. Three hours. On your knees." In my periphery, I saw Rick's head snap in our direction. "Okay," I agreed, as if he’d just asked me to pass the salt. I went back to cleaning the cut on his cheekbone. That’s when Rick shot to his feet, sending his chair clattering to the floor. His brow was knitted in a furious, frustrated knot. He looked at me with a pained disbelief. "What happened to you, Zoe? How did you become such a doormat?" he demanded, his voice raw. "Are you going to let him degrade you like this for the rest of your life?" Damian merely arched an eyebrow, his gaze dropping to me, waiting for my reaction. I had just finished patching him up. I stood and turned to Rick, my voice quiet as I defended the man beside me. "Mr. Kesling lent me a great deal of money. Doing this for him is the least I can do." Rick froze. Under the harsh, overexposed glare of the fluorescent lights, the color seemed to drain from his face. He remembered. He remembered that night last year when he’d shut the door in my face, refusing to lend me the money for my mother’s life-saving surgery. Back then, the rumor about Bella stealing had been spread by our other two roommates. Rick assumed I was the one who started it. He gave me the silent treatment. I stood outside his family's mansion, screaming his name until my throat was raw, begging him just to see me. He never came out. That was the day my nearly four-year crush on Rick finally died. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Zoe… I'm sorry. I didn't know you came to me that night because of…" "It's fine," I cut him off. "You're just a friend. You were under no obligation to lend me anything." The word "friend" seemed to pierce him. "Just a friend?" Before I could answer, Damian rose, slinging his suit jacket over his shoulder. He smiled at me. "Are you two done catching up?" I knew that tone. It was the signal that his patience had worn thin. I returned to his side, and we walked away. As we reached the stairwell, a nurse called out Rick’s name. "That cut on your leg needs stitches. You won't be able to walk on your own afterward. Do you have any family or friends here with you?" Rick’s eyes found mine. Even at six-foot-one, framed by the long, desolate hallway, he looked fragile and utterly alone. Damian's footsteps were already fading down the hall. He wouldn't wait for me. I pulled my gaze away and hurried to catch up. Behind me, I heard Rick's quiet answer to the nurse. "No." "I'm alone." 2 In the back of the Maybach, Damian leaned back against the leather, his eyes closed. He spoke into the quiet. "Do you feel wronged?" It took me a second to understand. "Sir?" The man opened his eyes, fixing me with a look of detached curiosity. "Being forced to kneel." "No. Not at all," I repeated, the words tasting like ash. "It's what I owe you, Mr. Kesling. When I had nowhere else to turn, you were the one who paid for the specialists to operate on my mother. You saved her life." I looked down at my hands. "Kneeling for three hours is nothing compared to that." He propped his head on his hand, a lazy grace in the movement. "Then would you do one more thing for your Mr. Kesling?" Damian was pursuing Bella. But Bella was in a flirtatious limbo with Rick. Damian found Rick to be an eyesore. "How about you go after Rick?" he suggested, his voice smooth as silk. "I hear you two were childhood sweethearts. It seems like a perfect match, doesn't it?" For the first time, I felt the air in the spacious car grow thin, so thick and heavy I could barely breathe. Damian didn’t press me for an answer. He crossed his legs, his fingers tapping a silent, rhythmic beat on his knee. After a long moment, I made my decision. I looked up at him. "Mr. Kesling, from now on, can the things I do for you count as payments toward my debt?" His gaze slowly drifted back to me. I’d shed the last of my pride a year ago, when I was on my knees begging strangers for money for my mom. I felt no shame now as I explained. "From her admission to her discharge, my mother's medical expenses totaled half a million dollars," I said, my voice steady. "For instance, if I agree to pursue Rick and complete this task for you… could you deduct a portion of that debt?" He watched me, his expression unreadable. "And when the debt is fully paid?" The thought of that day, of true freedom, brought a small, involuntary smile to my lips. "Then I can finally leave." The car fell silent. I risked a glance at Damian's face. He had turned away, the upper half of his face cloaked in shadow, hiding his emotions. But his voice, when he spoke, was as light and careless as ever. "Fine." "This task is worth fifty thousand." My eyes widened. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a flicker of light sparked in their deadened depths. I never expected him to offer so much. I thought it would be ten, maybe twenty thousand at most. A wave of hope washed over me—if I was lucky, I could be free in just a couple of years. I had no idea that just one month later, Damian would be the one to tell me, his voice raw and broken: "As compensation… your debt is wiped clean." 3 That night, as I knelt on the sharp gravel of Damian's driveway, my phone rang. It was Rick. "Zoe, if you pay him back, you won't have to listen to him anymore, right?" he asked, his voice strained. "Tell me how much you owe. I'll pay it for you." I didn't agree. It would just be trading one master for another. Besides, I already had a deal with Damian. My mind was already churning, formulating a plan to win Rick over as I spoke. "Are you on campus tomorrow around noon? I'd like to take you to lunch." The other end of the line went silent. After a moment, his voice came back, laced with a wounded pride. "Are you finally ready to make up with me? I thought you were going to write me off for good." A year ago, when he found out the real reason I needed the money, he’d tried to apologize relentlessly. But back then, the resentment was too fresh, too raw. And with my mom's surgery looming, I had no energy for him. Eventually, he stopped trying, and we stopped talking. Even when we passed each other on campus, we were like strangers. A complete break. Until today, when his fight with Damian landed them both in the hospital. I recalled his favorite foods. "There's a new artisanal Italian place that opened just off campus. My treat." He made a series of disgruntled noises, a mixture of petulance and the spoiled pride of a rich kid. "Hmph." "Okay," he finally grumbled. "I'm holding you to that. Don't you dare stand me up." "Tomorrow, 11:30 AM. I'll wait for you outside your dorm." 4 After hanging up, the pain in my knees became a screaming agony. I checked the time. Not even thirty minutes had passed. If I knelt for the full three hours, I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk to lunch with Rick tomorrow. Just as I was debating whether to reschedule, the front door of the villa opened. Damian's assistant walked out. He told me I could get up. "Mr. Kesling said the campus dorms are likely locked for the night. He's had the guest room on the first floor prepared for you. You can stay here tonight." He added, "There's also some medicated cream for your knees in the room." I pushed myself up, my joints protesting, and whispered a quiet, "Thank you." Damian's bedroom and study were on the third floor. He rarely came down. But when I woke up in the middle of the night for a glass of water, I ran right into him, looking drained from a long night of work. "Getting some water, sir?" I asked. He leaned against the banister, his voice weary. "Yeah." I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, went to the wet bar, and poured two glasses of water, handing one to him. Just as I was about to say goodnight and head back to my room, the power went out. The entire villa plunged into darkness. I froze. I remembered: Damian was night-blind. A moment later, I heard his voice, laced with a wry amusement. "Got a minute?" By the faint moonlight filtering through the windows, I could see him toying with his glass, his eyes unfocused, staring into the blackness. His tone was half-joking. "It seems I can't quite make it back to my room on my own." I switched on my phone's flashlight, scanning the area. There was nothing for him to hold onto. I had no choice but to offer my hand. "Mr. Kesling, here. Grab my sleeve." "I'll guide you back." He couldn't see, so when he reached out, his fingers brushed against my wrist before sliding down to grip the cuff of my sleeve. The solid wood stairs creaked under our feet. The vast, silent villa was filled only with the sound of our steady footsteps and the soft whisper of our breathing. When we reached the third floor, I forgot to warn him about the last step. Damian stumbled, lurching forward. "Mr. Kesling!" I reacted instinctively, trying to catch him. But at six-foot-two, he was far too heavy for me to support. Instead, he fell towards me. Luckily, my back was to a wall. He threw a hand up to brace himself, and in the sudden, clumsy movement, his lips brushed against the side of my neck. I was practically pinned against the wall by his body. My entire body went rigid. A strange, tingling numbness spread from the point of contact on my neck. The man in front of me froze for a second, too. His voice, for the first time, was devoid of its usual amusement. "Sorry, Zoe." I scrambled away from the wall and quickly opened his bedroom door. "You're here. You can just… go straight in." My voice was rushed. "I'll head back downstairs." He must have sensed my panic. He didn't insist I help him further, just gave a low, "Okay." I turned and fled down the stairs. 5 I barely slept that night. The next day, I was exhausted during my lunch with Rick. He noticed I wasn't eating much. He misinterpreted my fatigue as disinterest. He started sulking, stabbing at the pasta on his plate with his fork. "If you don't want to make up, just say so," he muttered. "You don't have to force yourself to have lunch with me." I poured him a glass of water and pushed it toward him, stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice soft as I tried to soothe his bruised ego. "I didn't sleep well last night. It's not that I don't want to be here with you." I wracked my brain for a way to fix it. "If this was a bust, how about I make it up to you? I'll treat you to something else tomorrow." His fork paused for a few seconds before he resumed eating. "Tomorrow…" He kept his eyes down, avoiding my gaze. "Tomorrow I already have plans with Bella." "She said she's never had proper Japanese food. There's a new omakase place downtown, so I'm taking her to try it." That woke me up. I nodded slowly. "Oh. Okay, no problem. Some other time, then." For the rest of the meal, I barely spoke. I was disappointed, yes. Rick was still hung up on Bella. My mission was going to be an uphill battle. 6 Over the next week, I managed to get Rick to hang out with me three times. We had dinner, saw a movie, worked on a paper at the library. The other four days, he was with Bella. Today, he canceled on me again. He sent a text. The reason: he was taking Bella to an amusement park tomorrow. At the same time, Damian, who had been away on a business trip for three days, returned. He called me. "Zoe, I just landed. Come have dinner with me." It was a good opportunity to report on my progress—or lack thereof. On my way to meet him, another text from Rick came in. When I opened our chat, I realized I’d forgotten to reply to his last message. Rick: Zoe, are you mad? Me: No, don't worry about it. You two have fun. 7 Inside the upscale steakhouse, my phone buzzed incessantly. It was Rick again. Rick: I heard there's a fireworks show at the waterfront tonight. I'm free, actually. Want to go? I put down my fork and typed a reply. Me: I'm out for dinner. I can't make it back in time. He was sharp. He sensed it immediately. Rick: With Damian? Me: Yeah. Back when I had a crush on him, cheering him up was second nature. Now, I just fumbled awkwardly for something to say. Me: This place is really good. We should come here together sometime. I think you'd like it. Rick didn’t reply. I put my phone down, deflated, wondering what I’d said to upset him this time. Across the table, Damian glanced up at me. "Having trouble with Rick?" He stirred his soup with a detached air. "You can switch tasks, if you want. We can just pretend I never suggested it." That was fifty thousand dollars of my debt. I couldn't give up that easily. "No, it's not that hard," I said quickly. "I… I used to have a crush on him. I know everything he likes. Just give me a little more time. I think it'll work." As the words left my mouth, Damian’s spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the floor. A waiter hurried over to clean it up and brought him a new one. It was only then that Damian seemed to snap out of his trance. He offered a faint smile. "You had a crush on him?" he asked. "You never mentioned that before." "I didn't want to bring up painful memories," I replied. His smile seemed to fade. "It seems you really liked him, then." I didn't want to continue this conversation, so I changed the subject. "Are you free tomorrow, Mr. Kesling?" "What? Rick isn't available, so you're asking me out?" I stared at him, bewildered. His tone had taken on a strange edge, a sharp mix of sarcasm and annoyance. "...No," I said, pushing down my confusion. "Rick is going to the amusement park with Bella tomorrow. If you're free, we could go too. I can keep Rick occupied so you can have some time alone with her." Damian let out a soft laugh. He had just gotten off a plane; he should have been hungry. But he'd barely touched his food. Now, he tossed his fork aside completely. His gaze fell on the salad in front of him, his voice still infuriatingly polite. "When you're finished, have the driver take you home. I'd like to be alone for a while." 8 After I got home, I never heard from Damian. I assumed he'd decided against going to the park. Then, scrolling through my phone, I saw Bella's new post. [Gloomy, rainy day. My hand is acting up again.] The picture was of the back of her hand—pale, delicate, and long-fingered. Damian had liked the post. A few minutes later, his assistant called me. "Mr. Kesling has decided. He's going to the amusement park tomorrow. Please be ready, Ms. Cross." After hanging up, I couldn’t help but recall the story of how Damian fell for Bella. On the first day of freshman orientation, Bella had been on her way to campus when she came across a car wreck. Inside, she found Damian, unconscious. Just moments before the car exploded, she managed to drag the man, who was much larger than her, to safety. In the process, she fractured her right hand. The injury left her with a permanent side effect. Every time the weather turned damp and cold, it would ache. When I first heard the story, I didn't doubt it for a second. The Bella who had just arrived at college was sweet and kind, if a little naive. But because she came from a small town, her clothes, her accent, her mannerisms—they were all targets for the other two girls in our dorm. They mocked her relentlessly. Over time, she adapted. She became more polished, more "city." But her personality changed, too. She grew more reserved, more sensitive. One evening, we were hanging out laundry on the balcony together. I noticed she wasn't wearing her usual uniform of jeans and plain t-shirts anymore. "New style? It looks great on you," I commented casually. She turned to me, a tight smile on her face. "What's wrong? Am I not allowed to change? I bet you'd all prefer it if I stayed the little country bumpkin forever, just to make yourselves look better, right?" She threw her old clothes into the trash without a second thought, as if she were severing ties with her past once and for all.
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