What is life supposed to be? Is it finding a reason? Happiness? But then—what even is happiness?
"Study hard so you'll get a better life in the future," my elementary teacher once said. Back then, I thought life was about success—a job, having a wife, a kid…
But dreams end.
I open my eyes and stare at the rundown ceiling. The air smells like shit. "Fck, if only life were that easy."
I'm Ren. Nineteen years old. Barely 5'2 — yeah, short enough that people sometimes think I'm a freshman instead of graduating. Maybe that's why no one takes me seriously..
As I get ready for school, I hear it again.
My parents fighting.
Same soundtrack since I was a kid. If I close my eyes, I can already mouth the lines.
"It's so early and you're already drunk again!" my mother shouts.
"Arhh! Just shut up!" my father yells back.
Glass hits the table. It's a bottle, maybe. The beer smell crawls into my room like it wants to choke me.
"Life's already hard enough, and you're making it worse! What about the kids' allowance?" my mother says.
"Just leave them alone. They're old enough," my father responds.
I look at my bag. No money inside, only crumpled paper and my broken ballpen.
Yeah, "old enough." Sure. But still hungry.
I tie my shoes slowly, like if I move slow enough, maybe they'll stop. But no. They keep screaming.
Sometimes I wonder why they're still together. Maybe divorce is too expensive. Maybe they just like fighting, like their love language is war.
"Ren! Did you steal my money again!!" my father shouts.
I hurry out while they keep arguing in the background, like free morning drama.
At school, I sit down in my chair.
A classmate comes up to me. "Yo, it's a miracle you attend class today."
"Haha, well, it's exam tomorrow, so I need to attend class," I say.
I try starting a conversation with my seatmate. "Hey, how are you?"
"Okay," Warren replies, looking up from his phone. We used to hang out since last year, but recently he's been cold.
What the fck is wrong with him? I think.
"Hey, about tomorrow—" I try to continue, but he ignores me.
Shit what he's deal?. He's the only one I'm close to in this class.
Maybe because I didn't attend class that often, we rarely talk now? That's why he's cold?
My phone vibrates on the desk.
Can we meet up after your shift later? I have something important to say.
Lately, her replies got shorter. Sometimes just a "k" or an emoji. I pretend not to notice, but it feels like she's slowly fading away.
Still… thankfully, I got a loving girlfriend. I can't wait to meet up with her.
The bell rings. Class starts.
The teacher enters and notices me. I'm terrified when our eyes meet because I already know how this will go. He slowly walks toward me.
"Why do you keep skipping class? It's the last quarter already," he says.
"Ah, sir, sorry… but- ahh," I answer.
Sigh. "Whatever. It's your problem if you fail," he replies.
I don't say anything back. Sometimes silence is the best answer. It's always like this.
Class finally ends. Five hours of sitting, listening, pretending I understand. My brain is already half-dead.
"Yo, how about hoops later?" one classmate says.
"Nah, let's just play in the com shop," another replies.
I know them since last year. Not close, but not strangers either. Maybe if I join, I won't be invisible today.
I swallow and step closer.
"C-can I come?" I ask, voice shaking like I'm confessing love or something.
Silence.
They keep talking, not even looking at me. Finally, one scratches his head.
"Uh… did you say something, Ren?"
I laugh awkwardly. "Ah? It's nothing."
I turn away before my face shows too much.
Fck… is there something wrong with me? Do I smell bad? Do I talk weird?
I walk off slowly, pretending I don't care. But deep inside, it stings harder than a math exam.
I rush straight to work after school. 2 p.m., uniform already crumpled, shoes smelling like sweat.
Fast food life. Nothing fast except how my soul is dying.
Before I even enter the kitchen, my manager blocks me. She's short but her eyes are sharp like knives.
"This is your last chance. If you AWOL again, you're fired."
"Yes, ma'am," I say, head down. But inside, I scream. Wtf, why can't I control the water in my eyes?
"Are you okay, Ren?" lyra asks.
Lyra, my girl co-worker. Honestly, I think she has a crush on me. Or maybe she just feels pity. Same thing for me. She's been concerned these past weeks, always asking if I ate, if I'm okay. Sometimes she even covers my shift.
"Ah, yes," I wipe my eyes quick, forcing a smile. We chat a little, random things about customers, then I clock in.
Time moves slow when you fry chicken. The oil pops, the air heavy with grease, my sweat mixing with the smell.
They say hard work builds character. If that's true, I should be fcking Superman already.
Eight hours later, it's 10 p.m. I'm ready to go home. But of course—
"Ren, can you still work for an hour?" my manager says.
"Yes, ma'am," I answer. No choice.
Fck this. Always overtime, never paid. But if I complain, goodbye job.
This place pays a bit higher than minimum, but they're squeezing me like a sponge. One more hour. I drag myself through it.
By 11 p.m., I finally get off. Lyra already went home. Lucky her. Me? I stay inside the restaurant, waiting.
I stay even after my shift. Chairs flipped on tables, floor still wet from mopping, smell of grease everywhere.
It's 11 p.m. I'm tired, but I'm waiting.
I scroll up our old chats while I wait. She used to send me essays about her day, stupid jokes, late-night rants. Now it's mostly short replies. Still… she came tonight. That has to mean something
On my phone:
Jillian: I'm almost there
Me: Okay
My chest is tight. Excited and nervous at the same time
Do you know why I endure all this crap? School, parents, work, manager yelling? It's because of her. Jillian.
She used to work here too, that's how we met. College girl, way out of my league. I don't even know why she chose me. Maybe she saw something in me I can't see in myself. Or maybe she just… felt sorry. Doesn't matter. To me, she's a goddess.
But lately… she feels different. Replies late, always "busy," sometimes forgets to call back.
I pretend it's nothing. I tell myself she's just stressed from college. Still, the thought bites at me: what if she leaves? What if one day she says she's done with me?
No. I shake my head. Don't overthink, Ren. Tonight she texted me "important."
Important means maybe something good, right?
I smile. What if she says, "Ren, I want to marry you"? Or maybe finally… you know… let me not be a virgin anymore. Damn, even thinking that makes my ears hot.
Footsteps outside. My heart almost explodes.
She's here.
Jillian finally arrives, breathing a bit heavy like she ran.
"Ren, sorry I'm late."
"It's okay," I smile. "But why meet this late? You can just text me, right?"
She looks serious. "No… this one, I need to say face to face."
"Ah—okay, what is it?" My heart beating fast. Damn, is this it? Will I finally—
She hesitates. Then:
"I'm pregnant," she says.
Wha—
For a second, I don't move. My stomach twists, my palms sweat. Pregnant? That can't be right. That's impossible.
"The HELL!" The shout rips out of me before I can stop it. People outside turn their heads.
Jillian frowns. "What?"
I choke on my words. "Ah, no—I mean… what do you mean pregnant?? Babe, we've been together for a year and you didn't even let me touch you! Now you're pregnant?!"
My brain crashes.
-End of chapter 1-