Lucy gave a soft smile.
"You're a strong woman, Mona."
Mona looked down, then slowly shook her head.
"I… I'd never sell my dignity, Miss Lucy."
Her voice was quiet, but steady.
It wasn't for show.
Wasn't a fake moral stance.
It sounded like something passed down since childhood—like a core belief.
"My mom," she continued, "she always told me… no matter what happens, I have to keep my pride."
Behind the flower rack, Caleb held his breath.
Her voice… her tone… even her choice of words—they hit way too close to home.
Melisa.
His mom.
Back in middle school, when Caleb was still just a kid, Melisa fought tooth and nail to get him into a top school.
The fees were insane. But she insisted.
Borrowed money left and right. Worked double shifts.
Still not enough? She borrowed again.
And Caleb remembered it vividly—
One night, when he pretended to be asleep, he heard a loud voice at the front door.
A man's voice. Then… his mother's.
"I'm not doing anything dirty. Get out… or I swear I'll kill you."
That sentence never left him.
It stuck in his head like a tattoo.
That tone—disgusted. Desperate.
But also… proud. Unshakable.
And now?
Mona—the girl he hated, the one sitting at the top of his revenge list—
was speaking in that same exact tone.
Buried in debt.
Lost any guarantee of a safe life.
Cornered to the edge.
But still saying:
"I won't sell myself."
Caleb lowered his head, fists clenched.
His mind was spiraling.
If someone else had gone viral instead of him…
Would Mona still have done the same thing?
Maybe… all of this was just about money.
And maybe… Mona wasn't as evil as he thought.
Maybe she was just… human.
Just like his mom.
Two stubborn women who'd rather sweat from working hard
than sweat in bed with some bastard just to pay off debt.
Caleb took a deep breath.
The mask on his face suddenly felt too tight.
Mom… I still remember you said kindness should be picky. Did she... deserve it? Caleb thought.
Mona finally stood up straight again.
"Anyway…" she said while reaching into the small wallet in her sling bag, "...I'll just get something cheap. For my grandma's nightstand."
Lucy moved right away.
"This one's perfect," she said gently, picking out a small stem of aster and quickly wrapping it in brown paper.
"Long-lasting, not too fragrant, but the color makes the room feel warm."
"Thank you, Miss Lucy."
Mona smiled.
Still the influencer smile—but softer now.
Maybe because she was tired.
Maybe because of the emotions from earlier.
Lucy took the cash and slid it into the register.
Everything done at normal pace.
No extra small talk.
No drama.
Just like any other regular day.
Mona hugged the little bouquet to her chest, then glanced toward the door.
"Oh, right—Miss Lucy… that old man, the neighbor of that ButtManiac guy…"
Mona lowered her voice slightly, her eyes flicking sideways.
"…they say he's gonna show up on a live interview tonight. On TuTube. Eight p.m."
Lucy paused briefly, then gave a small nod.
"Is that so."
Mona chuckled.
"Maybe I'll talk about it tomorrow. Who knows—might blow up again."
She stepped back and gave a little wave.
"See ya~"
Tring…
The soft chime of the bell rang as Mona walked out the door.
The door clicked shut again. The soft chime faded.
Caleb stayed frozen behind the flower rack.
But his breathing was heavy.
His head hung low.
Fingers gripping the edge of the pot so tightly, his knuckles had gone white.
Footsteps approached, slow and careful.
Lucy appeared from the side of the rack, her face soft—but there was weight behind her eyes.
"She might've… said some bad things about your mom," Lucy said gently.
"But you saw it for yourself, didn't you? She's just a desperate girl who wants money. Not a monster. Not a liar. Just someone… cornered."
Caleb didn't respond.
"I'll try talking to her," Lucy continued, her voice quiet but firm.
"Convince her to stop bringing you up. Or your mother—"
"Don't." Caleb cut in sharply, his eyes locked on hers, even with the mask hiding half his face.
"Don't get involved in anything that concerns me."
Lucy paused.
"If you really want to help her—or help me, for that matter…" Caleb's voice was steady now. Cold.
"Give her a job. A real one. Pay her enough so she doesn't have to survive off someone else's story. So she doesn't need to sell pain for clicks."
Lucy froze.
Her eyes widened a little.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
"…You really are Melisa's son," she whispered.
Her eyes glistened, but a small smile broke through.
"That sense of honor… it's exactly like hers."
Caleb frowned.
"Honor?"
"…Whatever," he muttered, looking away.
He pulled off the apron and adjusted his mask.
"I'm gonna hit the restroom," he said. "Need to wash my face."
Lucy just nodded, still watching him like she was seeing a ghost from the past.
Caleb walked toward the small door in the corner—the one Lucy had pointed to earlier.
His steps were heavy, but steady.
His shoulders sagged slightly.
As if the weight he'd been carrying… was finally starting to break through.
Caleb stepped into the small bathroom and quietly locked the door behind him.
The lighting was dim. An old fan rattled faintly overhead.
He stood there for a moment, his breathing still a little heavy.
Then… one corner of his mouth lifted.
"Pfft…"
A soft laugh slipped out—barely.
He leaned against the sink, trying to hold in his own laughter.
"God… this is insane."
His hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
He opened his browser and typed:
"Joe ButtManiac interview TuTube 8pm"
And—boom.
Right away, the thumbnail popped up: the old man's face against a bright red background.
Clickbait title screaming:
"LIVE at 8PM! Key eyewitness speaks out: Who is the real ButtManiac?!"
Caleb grinned.
"Live interview, huh?"
His head tilted slowly. Eyes narrowed.
He pulled off his mask and exhaled long and deep.
"How about…"
His grip on the phone tightened.
"…live revenge?"
He grinned wide.