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MA Chapter 1: A Man Who Sells Himself

Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
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Perspective Chôoe-Tǎem

"Did you hear or not, that Âi'Hotty just bought a three-million-baht Mini Cooper and parked it in front of the dorm! And he threw the car keys at me! Does he think he's so rich or what, Wá!!!"

"Three million per car, you dim-wit. Not three hundred. Are you still asking if he's rich or not?"

"Âi'Ker!"

I do not want to yell at my friend. I do not want to take my bad mood out on my friend. But I cannot help it. Actually, when I call to vent about what happened just a few dozen minutes ago, he just laughs delightedly. If he were in front of me right now, he would definitely be ruffling my hair playfully. And it seems that once I get upset, he chokes on his laughter, suppressing it until it's stuck in his throat.

"Ahem. Haha. Ahem-hem. I'm serious, Âi'guy. I'm serious. Hahaha."

Serious, my ass. Laughing that much. The thought makes me even more unavoidably irritated, and I intend to hang up if talking to my friend isn't helpful, but he asks first.

"But you still went out of your way to find out that it costs three million, didn't you?"

I do not answer the question, because Âi'Ker probably knows just as well that there is no way I would not check the price. After that Âi'hottie threw the keys at me and went back, leaving me with a look of contempt, I ran down to check the car model and then searched for it frantically, wanting to know how much money that man used to pat me on the head this time.

Why do I say this time?

Yes, Khráp!!! This is not the first time. And this is not the first million-baht sum he has thrown at me.

Me!!!

[Come on, it's much better than him transferring money into your account like last time. Isn't it you who told him yourself, 'if you're so tough, come give it to me in person, Wá']?

Âi'Ker is thinking the same thing as me, because he tries to tell me in a consoling tone, even though I hear perfectly clearly with both ears that he is bloody fucking choking on his laughter in his throat, the kind that makes me want to stab his throat with a skewer.

"Can you not mention that? It makes me angry just thinking about it."

I feel so pissed off. Thinking about the first million he gave me makes me scream. Just think about it: I wake up, go to withdraw money at the ATM, and find the balance miraculously skyrocketing from 1,400 Baht to 1,001,400 Baht [$43 US to $30,904 US]. It shocks me so much I almost don't make it to the bank in time to confirm that there must be some mistake. The bank there confirms that the money was really transferred in, not due to any negligence on the bank's part.
No way! How could anyone transfer a million baht to me!

I remember answering the bank staff like that. I do not want them to find out later that it wasn't my money and have me arrested. Therefore, I have to affirm my innocence first, that I don't have some drug dealer transferring money to the wrong account for laundering. While I am arguing with the staff, looking frustrated, a call comes in.

[Have you received it?]

Wait. Wait! Is this your doing, Wá?

[I heard from your Mâe that you're having financial difficulties. Take it and use it.]

[[Translator's Note: The Thai word แม่ primarily means "mother." However, it is also used extensively as a respectful and affectionate term for older women, often added to their name or profession (e.g., แม่ค้า, "vendor auntie"). Furthermore, it is a foundational word in compound nouns for female animals and objects. Its tone is overwhelmingly one of respect and familiarity.]]

"I don't want it. Come take your money back."

I may be in financial trouble to the point of hardship, but why should I endure this kind of contempt?

So I insist, and I am so angry I am almost in tears, because the person on the other end says simply: [I'm not taking it back. If you don't want it, just throw it away.]

The moment I hear that sentence, my anger shoots right up my throat. Because I know the value of money, I know how hard it is to earn every single baht. Therefore, hearing someone tell me to my face to throw away a million baht is like insulting someone like me who exchanges physical labor for money.

So, I shout out: Forget it!!! Listen well, Khun Khǎi. I am not your little-girl. Take your money and stuff it with someone else.

I was very angry back then. So angry that I shouted loudly in the bank. I only realize it after I hang up, when I am breathing heavily, that everyone is staring at me with unified eyes. Even the bank staff widens their eyes, and I can only hurriedly grab my passbook and run out. But I still hear the gossip.

"He has a good face, doesn't look like he'd sell himself, huh."

Shit-lizard!

And that's not all. I have to run and ask Mâe to help return the one million baht to that Phô-of-despicable-persons, and also tell him for me, 'Don't do this again. If you want to look down on each other, it's better to meet face to face.' Even Mâe finds it difficult. But who would have thought he would actually dare to come? And he comes accompanied by an upgrade from one million to over three million, amazingly.

[I think, he probably wants to nail you so badly his heart is breaking.]

Âi'Ker sends me into a headlong plunge. I can only bare my fangs at the phone.

[Really, selling yourself to him might be good. You'd get money to use, Âi'guy.]

"Shit-lizard!"

I curse him. I listen to Âi'Ker laughing delightedly, because he knows well that no matter how financially difficult I am, I would never take money from someone who looks down on me like this. And another thing...

"Don't talk nonsense. He's Mâe's relative."

[But you and your Mâe aren't real Mâe and son at all.]

My face stiffens immediately. I do not like anyone saying that Mâe and I are not related by blood. It's true that Mâe is not the one who gave birth to me. But Mâe has raised me since I was a youth. She never once thought of me as the child of another woman and Phôo. Moreover, after my Phôo died when I was only ten years old, Mâe still took care of and raised me, who is not related by blood, up until now.

Not to mention all sorts of problems with Phôo's former family that Mâe had to face. Therefore, when Mâe decided to remarry, after refusing to be with anyone because she was worried about me, I, who have been a drag causing her trouble for many years, do not want to bother her anymore. Once I entered university, I decided to live on my own. The first year was extremely difficult, blood and tears almost flying. This year is a bit better.

Now I have a job that earns me money.

[H-hey, I'm sorry. Don't be silent, Wá. I forgot that you don't like people saying this.]

My close friend says, sounding guilty. There is no trace of laughter left.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'm hanging up now. I need to get ready."

[Okay. See you later.]

I am not angry with my friend, because I know he means no harm. He worries about me a lot too. He has even said many times that if I can't afford the dorm, I should go live at his place. But I cannot do that. He has his own family. What would his family think if he took me in?

Enough. I am absolutely determined not to be a burden to anyone again.

Bing!

My thoughts are interrupted when the phone I just hung up on receives a new message. And the person who sends it makes my mood, which had improved a bit, plunge into the abyss again.

... If you're dissatisfied, come talk to me. Don't bother your Mâe. You're grown up enough to know what you should and shouldn't do...

"Âi!!!"

I am speechless. My two hands clench into tight fists. I stare at that message until I almost pierce the screen, seeing that Âi'guy's face standing there lecturing me with a deadpan expression, and then smirking with clear contempt, in HD quality, until I have to take a sharp, hissing breath. I turn off the phone and throw it to the other side, because if I reply to him now, it would only be full of curses.

"I can't believe a person like this is related to Mâe!"

I told you, right, that Âi-punchable-faced-man is related to my Mâe? I know a little that he is a distant relative. Moreover, that person grew up abroad. He just returned to Thailand when my Mâe remarried. At first, I did not care at all, because he was still flying back and forth. But then, suddenly, one day about six months ago, he showed up saying he would settle down in Thailand. And that's not all...

Khǎi, please look after Nông Tàem for me. He's a youth now and doesn't really listen to me. Khǎi is about the same generation, you should be able to talk.

Excuse me, Khráp. Did you ask me even once if I wanted to know him? And 'about the same generation'? There's an 8-year age difference! I for one will definitely not go and tell him anything.

As for who says I don't listen to Mâe, I do listen. The reason I am stubborn about living in the dorm and refuse to accept money from Mâe is because Mâe now has a Nông with the new Phôo. How could I bother both of them?

An outsider like me just has to move out.

The thought makes me lower my head. My eyes well up. The hand holding the phone loosens a little. But after just a moment, I steel myself by taking a deep breath, throw the phone to the other side, grab a large clip to pin up my brown hair, step into the bathroom to wash my face, and then move to sit on the bed.

I set up a mirror in front of me, pat all the water off my face, then grab a cushion to hold. Then I pat it lightly all over my face, being extremely frugal. It's not anything.

One compact can buy several meals of rice.

However, I cannot do without it. Since my way of earning money requires using my face, therefore, no matter who says how beautiful my skin is, I have to make it look even better.

"Sà-tŭu. Please let there be many people buying me tonight."

The money I get means the dorm fee, the transportation cost, the food cost, and the tuition fee that I will have to pay again soon. Therefore, even though I do not want some wealthy patron to sponsor me, it's not like I am not accepting money from selling myself, right?

And tonight, I will sell myself.

***

"Hah... hah... Enough... or not yet... Khráp... Tàem can't... take it... anymore."

The sky outside is pitch black, while my room is still brightly lit. The sound of panting echoing in the small room sounds indescribably embarrassing. Sweat trickles down my temples, but I pay no attention, still moving my body to the rhythm with all my might. My whole body is burning hot until I have to tilt my head back and look up at the ceiling. Then I pant, trembling.

"A... Are you... satisfied... Tàem is doing this... Phîi... Are you... satisfied... Hah... or not yet... "

I ask in a trembling voice, while my body is reaching its limit. The foundation plastered on my face has probably melted away with the sweat by now. Then I lower my gaze to look down, to see if the person who bought me tonight is satisfied with what I am doing for him. And I find that...

Mungming: More. Phîi is not satisfied yet.

On the screen, a program is running. In the middle of the screen is an image of myself, face red, panting heavily. My shirt is soaked through, clinging to my body. While on one side of the screen, text is running fast because various people are commenting. On the other side, a small number indicates... 589.

Too few!

I think, annoyed, but I still move my body to please the customers who are on the screen with all my might. Especially the person who paid money to buy me tonight.

"Oh, Phîi Ming. Hah. Hah. Tàem can't dance anymore. I've already danced four songs in a row, you know, Khráp."

If anyone is having impure thoughts, I must tell you to brake right now. I know that as soon as I tell anyone that I work providing entertainment on a computer screen, online for outsiders to watch, everyone must think the same thing: that I must be masturbating on screen to get money from viewers. Which, in reality... shove that thought down the toilet!

Right now, I am not masturbating, Wôoi! I am just dancing to the rhythm of the music!

So, what I am doing here is... being a DJ.

Being a DJ who doesn't have to go through any radio waves, but can do it through the internet, just at the touch of a fingertip. And I have been a DJ on this platform for five months now.

As for why I call it selling myself, it's because I agree to do everything in exchange for gifts that the viewers click to give me!

And what are the gifts? They are various icon shapes that users or listeners can click to send to the DJ hosting the show. Which, of course... must be bought with money!

The more gifts I receive, the more money the company gets. And I myself get a larger share accordingly. Therefore, do you understand now why I, who despises the parasitic gigolo nature of my faculty friends, am willing to abandon my original image and put on the image of a cute young man who is panting, throwing himself around, speaking in a spoiled voice to gain the viewers' sympathy?

Anyone who wants to see what my face looks like compared to my personality, come watch when I host the show. Come!

Mungming: There, there. Phîi gives up now, you can stop.

Fweep

"Hah. Thank you, Khráp, Phîi. Let Tàem drink some water for a moment, Khráp."

As soon as the owner of the gift who ordered me to dance allows me to rest, I drop down onto the chair immediately. I turn on music so the room isn't silent, because hosting a show is like being a crazy person who has to talk alone continuously. One method that helps is playing requested songs. But I also have to eat quickly, rest quickly, and then talk quickly.

Normally, people listen to the radio for music. But people here... they come to watch the DJ!

"So, how is it? Having fun teasing Tàem today?"

I feel a bit better when I turn to speak to the camera, making a pouty mouth, wrinkling my nose, and puffing out my cheeks in a way that looks cute and pinchable in the eyes of young women, but utterly abominable in the eyes of the person doing it, because I cannot stand myself at all. But it's this profession, right? I get money, right? Therefore... lower your head and accept your fate, go on, you Âi'Tàem.

Fine. I'll even tilt my neck for you, see?

Meowmeow: Hello, Tàem.

"Oh, Phîi Cat, hello, Khráp. You're so late today."

Even though the screen says almost six hundred people have come to listen to me, I try to greet everyone, because the more followers I have, it means... money!

Especially the regulars with thick wallets and heavy pockets.

Meowmeow: Phîi was busy with work. And why are you making such a sexy face?

"Praising me like that, I'm not flattered at all. I'm handsome, actually." I reply to the message from the gang of regulars who follow me every time I am online. I do not forget to answer questions from others who are talking to me as well. And I make a handsome pose that makes many listeners send a flood of number 5s.

"Wow, today, I don't even want to brag. Hey, then why brag, Wá?" I set it up myself, knock it down myself, and even add sound effects myself to entertain the listeners. Then I make a pitiful voice.

"I haven't slept since last night, you know. Sat up doing reports for friends all night. Then I met with Phîi who ordered me to dance four songs in a row. Oho, I saw heaven nearby. But it's okay. For everyone, I can do it." Having said that, I add a sound effect of applause for myself. I read messages saying 'poor thing,' some saying 'pitiful,' but beyond that...

Meowmeow: sends diamond

Meowmeow: sends diamond

Meowmeow: sends diamond

Meowmeow: sends diamond

Eyes wide, this Phîi Cat is sending beautiful diamond images, 15 in one go, making people...

"Thank you very much, Khráp, Phîi Cat!!! May you be beautiful day and beautiful night, your romantic partner loves and is infatuated with you. Anyone who talks to you will love you like you've put a golden-tongued myna bird on your tongue, Khráp!" I raise my hands in a wâi over my head, because one diamond isn't cheap. Sending 15 in a row like this is... sweet as honey for Âi'Tàem, right?

Meowmeow: Half of it is from Jae.

Meowmeow: He asked me to send it, because Jae might not make it in time for Tàem.

Jae, or "Jae Then Suck," is a username that the owner says matches the meaning. Don't try to think innocently that it means candy. He is one of the gang of regulars. I grin widely.

"Then Tàem will go thank Jae later. But hey, with 7 gems, you could have Tàem's life."

I told you, there is no free lunch in this world. The world of DJs is the same. It's not just about acting cute, ditching the shrimp act, and then easily getting money to use. Because to get people to send money through gifts, there has to be an exchange. And it varies for each DJ. For me, it's like...

5 'claps,' I will let Âi'Ker slap my head.

5 'candies,' cancels the head slap.

10 'sexys,' I do a sexy pose.

10 'monkeys,' cancels the sexy pose.

Acting cute only has its use when someone comes to cancel the punishment. Mostly, I do not get my head slapped much; they are afraid I will get hurt. As soon as someone sends claps, there will almost always be someone sending candies to cancel it for me immediately. The opposite is true for... diamonds.

Diamonds for me mean eating... Doi Kham.

Don't make a disgusted face, Wôoi! This is the most severe punishment!

Who says Doi Kham is delicious? I would argue to the death. Otherwise, how could it become a punishment item? And my Doi Kham is only tomato juice. Don't even mention the taste. And the bloody fucking smell... don't make me describe it. I do not want to get sued. I do not have money to hire a lawyer to fight.

Not only that, importantly, I... get drunk on Doi Kham, Wá.

Whenever I encounter a heavy diamond gift like this, it gets totaled up into a large box of Doi Kham. Normally, with a small box, I hold my breath and eat it until my face turns black and red. Every time it's a large box, I stagger worse than being drugged. But I have a motto... for money, no matter how heavy, Âi'Tàem fights to the death!

Bring it on.

Let's eat.

I, fight!

All these messages encourage me a lot. But for the tuition fee...

Glug glug glug

I prepare to chug it.

"Ugh, the smell... Don't you believe me, Khráp, that the taste is ultimate? If you don't believe me, tomorrow go buy some and drink it. Get the tomato one. But I'm not really challenging you to prove it... " Because someone asks if the smell is really shit-lizard-level, or if the taste isn't okay, or if I'm just acting, I answer the question accordingly.

"Okay, okay. Tàem won't delay any longer. I'm drinking it now... " I raise one hand to pinch my nose, brace myself, and... chug.

Shit-lizard! The bloody fucking smell is like buffalo fart!!!

I feel like I am going to throw up, but I force myself to swallow it down. The corner of my eye, brimming with tears, sees messages cheering me on funnily. Many people send me more gifts, which boosts my morale in devouring this damned vegetable juice. So I drink, and I drink.

Who's online?

Suddenly, I see another regular who just came in. But now I do not have time to greet him, because I have just managed to chug half the box and cannot stand it anymore. I jerk my face to the other side, taking a huge gulp of air.

"Oy, the smell."

I turn to look at the screen and find that... it's happening again.

Tell me the truth, is this vegetable juice or cannabis juice, Wá? Every time I eat this, my face ends up like this every time.

What's it like, you ask? It's a face like someone having an intense orgasm, of course!!!

Right now, my face is as red as the juice I just drank. My dazed eyes are stained with teardrops (from holding my breath). Sweat seeps around my forehead (I'm drinking half a liter at a time, Khráp, how can I not sweat?). Not to mention my lips are red and swollen as if I just had them smushed by someone (it's purely that damned colored juice). Besides, when I encounter a smell like this, I get dizzy until my eyes glaze over, my mouth parts slightly, and I pant a little.

Did I just drink vegetable juice or get pushed down onto a bed, Wá?

I can't stand my own face!

"Hue, Tàem is drunk now."

Even though I cannot stand a face like this, if it can make money, whether it's a small orgasm or a big orgasm, I am ready to make an orgasmic face for you to see. And I even modify my voice to sound whiny, looking at the messages popping up rapidly. Most praise me for being sexy this way, cute that way, some ask to be my romantic partner, others cheer me on to keep eating. But one that passes my eyes the most, and the one that makes my eyes stick out the most, pops up.

Passerby: With a face like that, let me f**k you once, please, Nông.

A message that makes me swear loudly in my heart.

Go get it from the dog at your house, you shit-lizard!

If I met you in the market, I would curse you out already. But because I am currently earning money amidst the viewers, which now number over six hundred people, I can only try to look past it, ignore that message, turn to answer other questions, and turn on some nice music to listen to along with it. But perhaps because that message stood out, other users start to get quiet. Moreover...

Passerby: Let me thrust once, dude.

It does not stop!

A second sentence isn't enough; it comes with a third!

Passerby: You don't have to eat that juice. Come eat my juice, it's better, Nông.

I know I have a good face, I am a target for lecherous people. But no matter how many millions you pay, don't hope to see the inside of my thighs!!!

I am experienced. I have encountered this many times. Even though most listeners are cute, once in a while these annoying fuckers who like to harass will pop up. Right now, bloody fucking Âi'Ker hasn't come yet, otherwise he would appear on screen for me immediately. And while I am hesitating whether I should respond or not...

Fweep

Whosomeone: I would like to recommend to you, in your capacity as an intellectual with a brain, Khun Passerby. If you want to release water, I recommend you go to the toilet. If you want to thrust, I recommend you go knock on a temple bell. But if after doing that you still don't feel better, and still want to do the first thing, I recommend...

Whosomeone: A bamboo rice container. Sharpen it until it's smooth. I think it's suitable for your level of intelligence.

Yeeessss! Phîi Hu, you're so sharp!!!

I can barely hold back my laughter when Whosomeone, or Phîi Hu, as I and people here call him, disappears for a moment and then returns with a long-winded message that is bloody fucking supremely satisfying. Especially...

"Go to the toilet, Phîi Hu? How did you think of that, Khráp?"

I press the sound effect buttons rapidly for him. Then he sends a reply back quickly.

Whosomeone: If you want to release water but don't go to the toilet, you'll make a mess, won't you, Khun Chèm-chôy.

"Phîi Hu! My name is Chôoe-Tǎem, not Chèm-chôy!"

I laugh out loud. Phîi has been following me since the whole room had only 5 people. Before, he used to call me Tàem. Nowadays he has evolved. Chèm-chôy. How the bloody fucking did he think of that, Wá? It makes me laugh so much I forget all about Âi'horny who was just verbally harassing me.

As for that guy himself, after encountering this full-set treatment, he logs out quickly... probably ran off to knock on a temple bell.

I grin immediately, and laugh even harder because Phîi Hu sends me a gift.

The highest icon, which means the most expensive, and... it orders me to do anything that is not 18+.

Whosomeone: I am canceling it for you, Khun Chèm. If I have to see Khun Chèm eat any more tonight, I am afraid I will dream of a malevolent ghost coming to eat my liver.

"Oh, Phîi Hu, dreaming of me would be to die for."

I say laughingly. I enjoy talking to him. Partly because of his annoying fucker nature, another part is because Phîi Hu never speaks flirtatiously to me. He only nags and bites until I laugh, my face black and red, that's all. And the people in the room also enjoy watching me quarrel with him. They do not listen to the music anymore; watching people fight is more fun.

"Oh, Ker has arrived, Khráp."

Squeeeal!

Phîi Ker has arrived!

Phîi Tàem's romantic partner is here!!!

As soon as I finish speaking, screams (if text could scream, that is) come in a huge wave, more excited than vultures swarming a carcass. Because I haven't told you, have I, how the number of listeners jumped from 5 people to 500, and sometimes even close to 800? It's because of this close friend of mine.

I called him to help in the beginning when I still wasn't fluent at talking to myself (Yeah, Khráp. Nowadays I'm a crazy person, I can talk to myself for three hours comfortably). At first, he came to help charm the young women. Once he started putting his arm around my shoulder, more young women came. Later, bloody fucking someone sent a gift with the order... Please let Phîi Ker kiss Phîi Tàem.

That's it. Bloody fucking he grabbed my neck and sucked my mouth. But he didn't really kiss me; he covered it with one hand, using the camera angle skillfully like an actor, Âi'guy. That's it. The young women who came to listen, who were proud of their own charm, bloody fucking dropped the act... it's a whole panel of fujoshi, Khráp!

I witnessed the truth that day: I have been set up to be the bottom.

So I can tell you for sure that more than half of the people here are aiming to see Âi'Ker wrestle me down on camera, utterly and completely ruined. As for me... as long as I get money, even if it's just my mouth, I (will try to) give it to you.

And even though my friend is not in the room with me right now, he can call in and use a method to connect the call so we can talk together. Once he arrives, that handsome guy performs his role as a crowd-puller better than his duty requires.

"Tàem, Khráp. Do you miss Ker?"

We just separated this evening. I probably miss you a little, you asshole.

"Don't know. Not answering."

I am bloody fucking good at acting cute.

"Aha, are you shy... Chôoe-Tǎem."

Âi'Ker emphasizes my name heavily, just as the fangirls are screaming through the text, shipping us together, thinking he is confessing his love to me in French. I just let them scream. I tell you, as long as I get money from this job, even if I have to fabricate a story that I had sex with Âi'Ker... I accept.

Therefore, this... is the definition of my selling myself.

Line!

"Oh, Phîi Hu."

I have just finished showering, half an hour after ending the broadcast, when Line pings. When I grab it to look, I find it is Phîi Hu as usual.

Whosomeone: Are you okay, Khun Chèm?

I smile immediately. Phîi Hu must mean the matter about Âi'Psycho who wanted to thrust me. I reply immediately.

je t'aime: I'm okay, Phîi. Thank you for your concern.

For some listeners, I exchange Line IDs in private messages. And one of them is Phîi Hu, who has given (meaning money) me a lot. I do not know what he finds appealing. But he once said that biting me is fun.

Whosomeone: Not concerned. Just thinking that if Khun Chèm thinks too much, can't eat, can't sleep, can't drink, and then dies, becoming a ghost haunting the cemetery, Khun Chèm would come to haunt me and make my hair stand on end.

Whosomeone: Brer. Khun Chèm, you're not even handsome normally. If you die and become a ghost, I'd probably be unable to pee after seeing you.

I both laugh and feel annoyed with him. I send three angry stickers in a row. Then we chat on and on until the matter from earlier fades from my mind. Eventually, the clock says it is very late.

Whosomeone: Khun Chèm, go to sleep. Every time, you're not as handsome as me. The more drowsy your eyes are, the more...

I wrinkle my nose at the screen, arguing unyieldingly. I can't win.

je t'aime: Want to compete?

After I send it, I stay still, waiting to see what he will use to annoy me next. But he only sends a short message, different from every other time.

Whosomeone: You can go to sleep now. Good night, child.

I can only stare at the screen silently, not knowing how to reply, because it feels like the handsome voice I imagine for him is whispering in my ear, making the lump in my chest twitch a little. I can only reply to him with 'Good night, Khráp.' Then I turn off the light, jump into bed, my mouth still smiling widely, absolutely determined not to let Âi'Ker know.

Too lazy for him to tease me.

Bing!

Suddenly, a message comes in, making me quickly grab the phone to look. I thought Phîi Hu would annoy me some more, but I forgot that he only has my Line. This is the message notification sound. And just by opening it...

... I asked, why aren't you answering...

"Yaaakkkkkk! Âi'Psycho!"

A message from... Âi'Psycho Khǎi! A name I must absolutely not let Mâe see on my phone, otherwise I would definitely get my ear pulled. Of course, I turn off the sound and escape from him. I do not reply, do not call, do not talk about anything at all. I just let the words 'Good night, child' echo around in my head. But behind my eyelids, I only see the image of... that despicable-person rich guy.

"Darn it. Tomorrow you will meet me for sure! But for now, just let me sleep!!!"

Tomorrow, I will take both the car and the car keys and throw them in his face!!!

However, I do not know that tomorrow I will be throwing something else, much more than that.

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