Gala chose to ignore it. He reached for the apron he had taken off before delivering the damn order. Back to work cleaning the area which is now full of dirty dishes.
Today he was starving while on the same day and second, the person who ate at Mr. restaurant. Kim throws the food away. Some are still half, and some don't want to eat toast. Before they were mixed, Gala's stomach was so sick that he quickly took the bread and half a portion of the roasted chicken from a pile of dirty dishes.
Eat it in a hurry.
The extended choke.
"Are you crazy, Gala?!"
Hanry, who heard the sad voice from Gala, immediately looked at the young man. In his hand were the remains of a piece of chicken that was either to be thrown away or the Gala was biting. His chest was beaten hard. Hanry hastily took a drink for the Gala. He handed it over with an astonishing frown on his forehead.
"What are you doing, Fool?"
Gala, who saw the glass filled with water, immediately gulped until it was gone. He was trying to catch his breath and felt like he was losing his breath.
"Nothing," he said quietly.
"You think I'm blind, huh?"
Gala glanced briefly. The roast chicken that he had been enjoying as a stomach boost, no matter what it tasted like, the most important thing was that he was strong enough to face a lot of work today.
"Your rations are in the drawer. Eat quickly and finish your work immediately." Hanry looked back and forth at Gala, who was still eyeing with interest the pieces of chicken that were already on the dirty plate. I don't know if anything was hit there because of lunch earlier. The customers were very busy, making them all dizzy. "Hurry up, Gala!"
The young man blinked slowly. He hastily threw away the chicken pieces and washed his hands. "Thank you, Harry," he said sincerely.
***
Gala looked at the bicycle that became her most loyal friend with a miserable look. The damage is quite severe. He still remembers what happened so quickly. Also Luke. Right. The person he should have called a co-worker turned out to be utterly hostile to him even though Gala is nothing compared to Luke. But why was Luke against him?
He wanted so badly to ask, let alone hit Luke in the face with his fist. But he was always thinking, thinking, and thinking. Shouldn't he go ahead? So as not to be called weak and a loser?
It should be like that, right?
But Mr. fat face. Kim pictured in the corners of his eyes. If he dared to do such a thing when judged earlier, he was sure Mr. Kim no longer has the compassion to accommodate and employ him.
Right.
The thought was like a broken record echoing in his head. The intention to confront Luke Dimitri did not materialize. He chose to go home. Slowly pushes his bike while thinking, where can he fix it because it feels like the damage is pretty bad.
If he didn't have a bike, he could be late. After working at the restaurant, Gala still has to work elsewhere as a cleaner. His work is not far from things that smell of dirt and damp.
His old cell phone, which he had jammed with some tape on several sides, was ringing loudly. The sound alone startled the stray dog huddled close to the large trash can. Gala chose to cut the road to get to Lot 1. It wasn't a restaurant but the usual house, where the owner was reluctant to hold dirty dishes and clean up the trash.
So Gala did it. Gala was lucky enough to make some extra money from there even though it felt like she was on the verge of throwing up because the koto plates had been piled up there since morning. No problem.
Milly Flat's name appeared on the screen where she knew who was calling her tonight. "Good evening," Gala was still trying to be very polite.
"Don't talk too much, Gala. When will you pay the remaining rent? Already got the money, right? I heard that Marta, your friend, has already paid for it."
Gala's eyes were slightly closed. If only he had pocketed the money, at least he wasn't hungry, and on his bicycle hung bread and milk. Even though it was nearing the expiration date, at least tomorrow morning's breakfast would be safe.
When he came home, Mr. Kim wasn't there. He came home late, where he had to finish other tasks and lock the shop. Mr. Kim lives above her restaurant. Had Daniel said, "Mr. Kim brought the food you spilled earlier."
Wants Gala to correct her accusations but for what? He let Daniel say it even though the look in his partner's eyes was not like the others. Ordinary. As if what Gala did was commonplace.
If he had been working as usual without any food spilling accident, he wanted to ask for his meager salary. Silencing Mrs. Milly's flaming lips. Then he bought the rest of the food stock in the refrigerator even though it was not much.
"Yes, madam. Maybe tomorrow?"
"You think my flat is free? What excuse do you have, huh? Pay tonight or you're out! I'd rather rent it to a beggar who turns out to be a lot of money than you, Gala!"
The phone was hung up firmly but made Gala's heart warm again. He gripped the phone tightly. He wanted to slam, trample, so that his anger disappeared. But he still had quite a sane sense.
In front of him was an empty drink can, for which he finally made an outlet. He repeatedly kicked, stepped on, and threw wherever he liked. He picked it up again and did it again and again. It's like a trash bag in the corner. Time and time again, he kicked like crazy.
Also, screaming at will let out the madness that was crushing him.
"Help."
Gala straightened up. The activity stopped. He sharpened his ears because the voice sounded weak and very low.
"Help me."
"Who are you?" asked Gala, whose voice echoed down the hall.
"Help."
Gala glanced at her bicycle, lying helplessly not far from her. He didn't think his bike could talk. That was ridiculous. Not. He didn't think so. But he had to flee immediately because it seemed impossible for a female voice to be in this hallway.
Scary.
"Here. Master… please."
But Gala was curious too. As the words became more straightforward and transparent, an orange glow filled the dark and stuffy hallway. Very bright. Until Gala dispelled him with the back of his hand.
"Here, sir."