The Price of a Blind Date, Eighteen Maybachs Left in Ruins

I went home for New Year's Eve to go on a blind date.

My mom had arranged it, saying the girl came from a good family and was good-looking.

I drove over in my domestic-brand car.

When I arrived at the hotel, my date and her group of girlfriends were already there, dolled up in designer clothes from head to toe.

Compared to them, I looked pretty plain.

The moment they saw me, one of her best friends sneered, unable to hide her disdain.

“Aria, is this your blind date? Why does he look like a migrant worker?”

“Seriously, with that look, I bet he doesn’t even have a hundred bucks on him.”