Chapter 3

The phone rang several times before he answered.

"Dad, I don't have enough for living expenses."

"Ask your mom. Your mom handles all the money at home." His voice was lazy, like he was watching TV.

"Mom only gave me three dollars!"

"Then talk to your mom about it. What's the point of asking me?" He sounded helpless.

"Dad, can't you just lend me some first? Your personal stash..."

"My personal stash is for buying cigarettes." He cut me off, his tone a bit impatient. "Don't go after your dad's little bit of money. You know I've been smoking my whole life."

I gripped my phone, my nails digging into my palm. "But I really..."

"Go find your mom. Dad can't handle these things." He hung up right after saying that.

I wondered if I was really their biological child.

If I wasn't, then everything would make sense.

But I knew the answer.

I looked exactly like a combination of the two of them. That was probably the most devastating thing.

They were my real parents, but they just didn't love me.

I waited until 11:30 before quietly entering the dorm. The three of them were already asleep.

I sat on my bed and opened my phone.

I'd finally scraped together three hundred comments.

Combined with the three hundred dollars I'd saved from part-time work, I thought next month I could finally eat enough.

I took a screenshot and sent it to Mom.

"Ten accounts, all your burner accounts. You think I'm blind?"

She sent back a screenshot, clearly marking those accounts.

"How dare you cheat! This month, you get nothing. Also, pay me back the 50 dollars I lent you last time."

I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling.

My part-time wages were only $300. That was my survival money for next month.

After paying Mom back 50, I had 250 left.

I started skipping classes to work.

Breakfast shop at 4 AM, bubble tea shop washing cups at noon, restaurant washing dishes at night.

Three jobs a day. No time for classes at all.

A professor asked to meet with me, saying I'd already missed twenty-eight classes and needed to bring a parent in.

I froze.

"Can you not call them?"

"No. You're single-mindedly obsessed with becoming an influencer. If you keep this up, you'll be expelled."

I called my mom.

She was silent for a few seconds:

"Fine, I'll come. But the gas is 120, and my lost wages from taking time off work, 200. You need to reimburse me 320."

I hung up and squatted in the hallway of the classroom building, burying my face in my knees.

My part-time wages were down to 250, and I still had to pay her back 320.

When Mom arrived at school, I was in the dorm staring blankly at my phone.

The professor called and told me to come to the office. I pushed open the door and saw her sitting in a chair.

When she saw me, her eyes were full of impatience.

"Look at yourself. What do you look like?" She started with this. "Twenty-eight absences. Do you not want to study anymore? If you don't want to study, get out and go home. Don't embarrass yourself here."

"I was working." I said.

"Working?" She laughed coldly. "What kind of work can you do? Other people work to make money. You work yourself into twenty-eight absences, and you think you're right?"

I bit my lip and said nothing.

"What's the point of you studying?" Her voice grew louder and louder. "The neighbor's daughter graduated from vocational school and now makes tens of thousands a month as an influencer. And you? Going to some crappy university, spending my money, and skipping classes. Who are you worthy of?"

"I'm not spending your money." My voice was shaking. "At the start of the semester you only gave me 3 dollars."

"Three dollars isn't money? Have you calculated how much you've cost me since you were little?"

"Have you calculated it?"