My mom, worried about my spending habits, entrusted my monthly $500 allowance to my childhood friend, Ryan. But he only gives me $10 a week. When the summer heat became unbearable, I asked to use my own money to move to a dorm with AC. He flatly refused. "You're only hot because you're too fat," he sneered. "Eat less, lose weight, and you'll be fine." On Valentine's Day, I caught him and his bros partying at a bar. "Yo, Ryan, where's your girl? Still saving yourself for the wifey?" Ryan clinked his glass with a laugh. "Yeah. Once she slims down, I'll bring her around to meet you guys." "Drink up, everyone. Tonight's on me." His friends praised him for being generous and loyal. I stood in the corner, watching them, when a strong arm wrapped around my waist. A husky voice whispered in my ear: "What are you looking at, wifey?" I pouted, turned, and buried my face in the bar owner's chest, sobbing dramatically: "Boohoo, Seth! Someone stole my money! Beat him up for me!" 1 I'm 5'5" and weigh 140 pounds. I've got curves in all the right places and I'm perfectly happy with my body. But Ryan always thinks I'm fat. Back in high school, during P.E., he'd always take off his jacket and drape it over me. Classmates would coo about how sweet and protective he was. Only I could hear the venomous whisper in my ear. "Luna, have some shame! You're so fat, everything jiggles when you run. Don't you see all the guys staring at you?" I threw his jacket on the ground. If guys are staring, that's their problem. Or maybe it's the sports bra design, or the shirt cut. What does it have to do with me? There were countless incidents like this, but I never took Ryan seriously. He couldn't control me. Until college. My mom, brainwashed by Ryan's constant nagging, decided I was indeed too fat. She resolutely handed over my monthly allowance to him. "Ryan, I know you're a good kid and you care about Luna. I'm leaving her in your hands." Ryan looked solemn and serious. "Don't worry, Auntie. I'll make sure Luna loses weight!" I almost choked on my own spit. Out of my $500 allowance, Ryan only gave me $10 a week. He refused to let me switch to an AC dorm and demanded I report everything I ate. I tried to act cute: [Ryan, look, ten bucks a week means less than two dollars a day. A bagel is two dollars. I can only eat three bagels a day. I'm going to turn into a bagel! Boohoo.] He replied like a robot: [A plain bagel is 250 calories. A cinnamon raisin bagel is 300 calories. Next time, stick to plain. Also, did you buy that coffee next to it? From now on, your allowance is $8 a week. Exactly enough for three plain bagels.] Insane. I complained to my mom, but she sold me out in three seconds. "Ryan is a good kid, top of his class. Just listen to him, he won't hurt you." I was furious! I threatened Ryan directly: [If you don't give me money, I'm going to find a sugar daddy!] [Luna! You dare!] [Try me.] 2 Of course, I didn't actually dare. I've always been open-minded and practical—money talks. But the world is messy, and I didn't want to catch anything nasty. I decided to get a job. Sophomore year was busy, so I only had evenings free. All the good gigs were taken by upperclassmen, so I ended up at a late-night food stall. Right across from a big club, business was booming. Standing next to the grill in midsummer was sweltering. I wore a tight tank top and hot pants under an apron, my pale skin glowing in the dim light. I was on my feet constantly. Occasionally, I'd sneak a skewer when the boss wasn't looking. My coworker, Peach, watched jealously as I munched. "Luna, the boss is so cheap. Why does he let you steal food?" I grabbed another lamb skewer for her and blinked. "Oh, I thought it was allowed." "Tsk, dummy. Look over there." She gestured with her chin. "See him? That's the owner of the club across the street. He used to eat at the place next door. Since you started, he comes here every night at 8 PM sharp. And because he's here, all the girls from the club come too. Sales have doubled! You're the boss's money tree now!" I looked over. A group of guys sat at the big table on the edge. The one in the center stood out. He wore a floral shirt unbuttoned to reveal a solid chest, his jawline sharp in the flickering light. He held a cigarette between his fingers, squinting as he watched his friends play cards. As if sensing my gaze, he turned. Our eyes met, and ash fell from his cigarette. Wow, he's hot. But... I pouted. "He smokes. I hate the smell of smoke." The man's hand twitched, and his half-smoked cigarette fell to the ground. I realized something was off and shut my mouth. He couldn't have heard me, right? We were five or six tables apart. 3 The food stall paid daily. Peach might have been right; when I started, I got $20 a night. Within two weeks, it went up to $60. Thrilled, I Venmo'd Ryan back his pathetic $8, skipped work, and treated myself to a buffet. Unexpectedly, I ran into Ryan. He was with a thin, pale girl. They walked in right after paying. Before I could hide, Ryan spotted me and stormed over. "Luna! Are you sneaking food here?" I crawled out from under the table, defiant. "Who's sneaking? I'm eating openly!" My gaze shifted to the timid girl behind him. I smirked. "Yo, bringing your girlfriend out? Ryan, if I don't tell your dad you're dating, will you stop controlling my allowance?" Ryan's dad was strict. No drinking, no staying out late, no dating before graduation. One strike and he'd break Ryan's legs. Ryan frowned, afraid I'd misunderstand. "Sarah is in the student council with me. Her monthly allowance is only $100. Poor thing almost fainted from low blood sugar today while helping out. As president, I'm treating her to a good meal." "Luna, don't overthink it." I laughed bitterly. "My allowance is less than $50. Why don't I see you feeling sorry for me?" "Sarah only weighs 90 pounds. You're 30 pounds heavier. Can you compare?" So what if I'm 30 pounds heavier! My weight is in all the right places! I put my hands on my hips, glaring at Ryan. Sarah was thin, with a high ponytail, looking small and fragile. She hid behind Ryan like a frightened deer, but couldn't resist peeking out to ask curiously: "You only get $50 a month, but this buffet is $80 a person. Where did you get the money..." She covered her mouth, looking innocent. "Sorry, Luna. I was just curious, no other meaning. But your skirt... is really short." Ryan's eyes darkened as he scanned my little black dress that didn't reach my knees. He grabbed my hand, his voice rising sharply. "Luna, did you actually find a sugar daddy!?" 4 I've never had a good temper. I shot a cold glare at Sarah. "If you can't say anything nice, shut up. Know what thoughts to keep to yourself? Understand?" Sarah's eyes turned red immediately. She clutched Ryan's sleeve pitifully, her voice trembling. "President, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean anything by it. Your friend... is so scary." Ryan, with his cold, handsome face and gold-rimmed glasses, looked like a refined scumbag. As soon as he started college, he attracted girls like a flower attracts bees. I didn't understand why he kept fixating on me when he had so many girls around him. And now he was bringing this drama to me. Seeing I was genuinely angry, Ryan reined in his emotions. He pursed his lips, shook off Sarah, and scolded her coldly. "Luna is right. If you can't speak properly, don't speak." "If I catch you doing this again, you're out of the student council!" Without looking at Sarah's embarrassed face, he dragged me out. In a quiet corner of the mall, he cornered me. Fist pressed against the wall, he tried to control his anger. "Where did you get the money?" Thinking of Ryan's terrifying control issues, I worried he might find the food stall. I pouted, looking at the ceiling, looking at the floor. Saying nothing. Ryan, out of options, softened his voice and stuffed a bill into my hand. "I'll raise your allowance to $20. Don't go looking for sketchy people." I finally looked at him. Oh, his eyes were red. Who knows what he'd do if pushed too far. I decided to compromise, taking the money but complaining: "Ryan, you're so cheap." 5 Today, the club across the street had an event, and it was packed. Business at the food stall picked up too. The boss messaged me to come in early. Before I got there, I saw a guy surrounded by a group in an alley. The leader was the owner of the BBQ place next door, covered in tattoos. Looking dangerous. I squinted, not wanting to get involved. But a glance back revealed a pair of dark, intense eyes. I froze. Seth. The club owner. Isn't he tough? Big guy, lots of friends. Getting bullied? Curiosity got the better of me. I bit down on my lollipop and peeked around the corner. Before long, the group started beating him. Seth didn't seem to fight back. The sickening sound of punches hitting flesh drifted from the alley. Afraid they'd kill him, I rushed in, swinging my bag. "I called the cops! They'll be here any second! Stop!" Before I could do any damage, the group scattered, cursing as they ran. "Fck, crazy btch! Almost broke my ribs!" ??? I weighed my bunny backpack, which only held a few lipsticks. Was that a fight or a scam? I looked at the man sitting on the ground. Dim streetlight fell on his brow, illuminating his sharp features. His handsome face was clean, not a scratch. Instead, his tank top was intentionally lifted, revealing eight distinct abs. In the light, I could even see the pink of his chest. I quickly covered my nose. Damn. I was a little turned on. Seth blinked his long lashes, looking at me with a lost, husky voice. "They blamed me for not eating at their place lately, dragging down their business." I looked skeptical. Peach told me he owned all the shops on this street. Tenants beating up the landlord? But it was gossip, so maybe not entirely true. I felt a pang of sympathy. "Can you walk?" Under the night sky. Seth's dark eyes flashed. "Can't move. Take me home?"
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