"You son of a bitch!"
Mike Carter clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles whitening with rage.
Tyler Wayne had done it on purpose.
First, he had stolen Mike's girlfriend. Now, he was calling just to flaunt it.
What hurt even more was hearing Jessica Lee complain over the phone, "Tyler, why are you even asking him? He's just a bartender at some second-rate club. Most of the time, he's running around delivering takeout. He doesn't even know what luxury suites look like, let alone which ones are the best."
Tyler chuckled. "You're probably right…" Then, he hung up.
Mike's fists trembled as anger boiled in his chest. A message popped up on his phone.
"Mike, don't go around telling people we ever dated. Everyone knows I'm with Tyler now, and I don't want him to feel disgusted."
It was from Jessica.
Mike felt like ice water had been poured over his heart.
"Are you going to a hotel with Tyler?" Mike typed back. He didn't want to care anymore, but Jessica had been the first girl he liked in college.
He had never even kissed her. All his savings—spent on her makeup, clothes, and gifts—yet she was now using the lipstick he had bought to kiss another man.
"Yes. If you must know, I've already had an abortion for Tyler. He doesn't like using protection, and I just want to keep him happy."
Mike's vision blurred with anger. "What the hell did you just say?" he typed furiously.
But the chat interface suddenly flashed a red exclamation mark.
Jessica Lee has blocked you.
So this is how it ends? Being a simp gets you nothing.
But Mike wasn't the same broke loser anymore. Now he had money. A girl like Jessica didn't mean a thing to him anymore.
Still, no one had the right to humiliate him. No one.
Mike headed to a nearby grocery store, bought a few bottles of cheap liquor, and drank himself into a stupor.
As he sat wallowing in self-pity, his roommate Chris sent him a message:
"Mike, your mom is here. She came to drop off your allowance. Where are you?"
Hearing that his mom had come snapped Mike out of his misery.
Let Jessica be with Tyler—she's not worth it. But my mom… she's been through hell to raise me. She's all that matters now.
Mike rushed to the campus gate, where his mother, Mary Carter, was waiting with a warm smile.
"Here's your allowance for the month," Mary said, handing him $100 in cash. "How's school? Are you coming home for the holidays?"
She hesitated for a moment, then pulled out another $50 from her pocket. "Take this too. You might need it."
Mike's throat tightened as he saw her hands trembling. She was left with only a few dollars in her wallet.
At that moment, a sleek BMW 5 Series rolled up to the gate.
Two girls stepped out: Sarah Yang and Emily Scott. Both were in Mike's class. They weren't just beautiful—they were wealthy, the kind of girls who lived in luxury their whole lives.
Emily spotted Mike and smirked. "Why even give him money? He just wastes it on streamers, throwing away his parents' hard-earned cash."
Mike froze. He didn't realize his classmates had found out.
Everyone knew now—he'd spent all his money on Jessica's live streams, only to be banned and humiliated in front of everyone.
In their eyes, he wasn't just a loser; he was the ultimate simp.
Emily's words struck a chord, and Mike pushed his mom's money back toward her. "Mom, I don't need it. Let's go buy you some clothes instead."
Mary frowned. "Clothes? What for? The ones I have are fine. I bought this shirt two years ago. I can patch it up and wear it for another two."
Mike shook his head. "No, Mom. Not this time."
Mike led his mother to the nearby mall and walked into a high-end clothing store.
In the past, he would never have dared step foot in such a place. But today, he turned to his mom and said, "Pick whatever you like. Anything at all."
Mary furrowed her brows. "What are you talking about? The clothes here must cost at least $50 each!"
"Fifty dollars?"
Before Mike could respond, a snobby sales associate approached them, her expression filled with disdain.
"Excuse me, but this is a custom boutique. We don't have anything for fifty dollars," she said, adjusting her glasses as if to underline her superiority. Her tone carried an unspoken message: What are you doing here? This is no place for people like you.
She even grabbed a mop and began cleaning the carpet where Mike had just walked, muttering something about "bad luck."
Mike frowned. "What's your problem?"
"My problem? You're in the wrong store. If you can't afford anything here, stop wasting everyone's time."
Mary tugged at Mike's sleeve, apologizing to the woman. "I'm sorry. My son just wanted to do something nice for me. We'll leave now."
But Mike didn't move.
In the past, he might have swallowed this humiliation. But now? He wasn't the same Mike Carter anymore.
"I want to see if there's really anything here I can't afford," Mike said, pulling out his Swiss Bank card and handing it to the saleswoman.
The woman sneered and tossed his card into the trash. "A student with a credit card? How much could you possibly have? The cheapest item here costs thousands. You couldn't even afford the tax."
Just then, a sharply dressed man in a tailored suit walked into the store.
The saleswoman's eyes widened. She recognized him immediately—it was Mr. Gregory, a regional manager for Chanel.
"Mr. Gregory! What brings you here?" she gushed, rushing to greet him.
Gregory glanced at her, unimpressed. "What are you doing? Customers are the lifeblood of any business, and you treat them like this?"
The saleswoman still didn't get it. "But sir, we're a premium store. Not just anyone can walk in. I was only trying to protect our image."
Ignoring her, Gregory retrieved Mike's card from the trash. He dusted it off, then froze as he examined it more closely. His eyes widened in shock.
"This card… is this yours?" Gregory asked, looking at Mike with newfound respect.
"Yeah," Mike replied casually.
The saleswoman scoffed. "It's just a card! What's the big deal?"
Gregory turned to her with a sharp glare. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Go make some tea for our guests. Consider your monthly bonus gone—and your annual leave as well."
Handing the card back to Mike, Gregory's tone softened. "Sir, I sincerely apologize for the poor treatment you've received. If there's anything we can do to make up for it, please let me know."
Mike smirked. "It's fine. Just seems like your store doesn't welcome people like us."
Gregory shook his head emphatically. "That's not true. And to prove it, please accept these two VIP gold cards. With these, you'll enjoy free access to all Chanel stores worldwide."
Mike brushed off the gesture and proceeded to buy his mom a wardrobe full of new clothes, shoes, and accessories.
Later, as they ate lunch, Mike's phone buzzed. The group chat was exploding with messages about him.
Everyone at school was laughing at how Jessica had banned him from her stream and danced provocatively for Tyler Wayne.
To them, Mike wasn't just a loser. He was a cautionary tale.
Just then, another message came in.
It was from Tyler.
"Mike! Are you working today or not? You're in no position to choose suites for Jessica. While you're at it, grab me some condoms. Your goddess is waiting, and I've promised her I'd make her live stream rank number one once we're done."
Mike stared at the message, his fists tightening.
"I'll be there," he replied coldly.