After she was done eating, she went to the sink and cleaned her dish, then went to her room and took her backpack and her phone. Without saying anything to her father, she left the apartment.
When she closed the door behind her, she felt like she could breathe again.
'That was more stifling than usual. I have a feeling he wanted something, but it doesn't matter. There's only ten days left before I'm out—finally,' She thought to herself.
'Wait, what time is it?' Not expecting an answer, she looked at her phone she had been holding and saw it was 5:30 a.m.—enough time to get to work a little earlier than usual.
She switched off her phone and just threw it inside the backpack like trash, which—judging by its age—it might as well be. She zipped her pack, strapped it on her right shoulder, and started walking away from her apartment room.
It took her a 20-minute walk to reach the Pink Café, a coffee shop that had its own charm. Its pink theme made it hard for anyone to look away. Since Lily had gotten there ten minutes early, she thought it best to relax before having to deal with all those annoying people—both her colleagues and the customers—while looking at the outside theme of this god-awful coffee shop. Still, she did admire the boldness of it.
The facade boasted a beautiful blend of pastel shades, with a whimsical sign adorned in shimmering rose-gold lettering that read:
"Pink Café – Where Every Cup Blushes Pink."
She moved to the side as a patron passed by and looked at the large, hanging flower baskets overflowing with pink blooms, enhancing the enchanting atmosphere.
A charming outdoor seating area for patrons was furnished with quaint pink bistro tables and chairs, each embellished with luxurious floral cushions and draped with soft, blush-colored canopies providing shade and a touch of intimacy.
She sighed at the peaceful atmosphere, then proceeded to go inside, not bothering to look at more of the charm of the Pink Café—despite there being more to look at and admire. Things like the windows framed by delicate pink lace curtains, allowing glimpses of the inviting interior.
But it was time for work.
When she opened the entrance door, a bell rang, and she was hit with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingling with the sweet scent of pastries and flowers. Lily, used to the smell, walked forward past the pink tables with menus.
The menus were elegantly written on rose-colored chalkboards, offering an array of pink-themed beverages like the Strawberry Dream Latte, Rose Petal Infusion, and Pink Peppermint Mocha, each served in delicate pastel-hued cups and mugs.
Lily hated the environment's cozy ambiance that enveloped her the moment she stepped inside the café and all the pink in her field of vision everywhere she looked.
Like the walls adorned with soft pastel pink tiger paintings, and the ceiling draped with cascading pink fabric, creating an ethereal feel.
The armchairs, the plush sofas, and the quaint wooden tables, nothing was spared. And as ridiculous as it was, the shop somehow blended seamlessly with the pink theme. It wasn't too overbearing. Not by much, at least.
Since the Pink Café was a local coffee shop and not very big, it had a limited number of staff, around seven members total, including the owner. From 6 a.m. to 1 p.m., only three hired staff worked the shift.
After Lily's shift, the staff would change, with new members working from 1 p.m. to 8 p.m. until closing time. Only the owner worked both shifts without complaint and only rested on weekends, letting her daughter stand in for her.
Reaching the counter, where her colleagues stood dressed like her, except for the clothes worn waist-down—they simply ignored Lily. The only one who came to her was the owner.
Some jazz music played softly in the background. It should have given Lily an inviting feeling, but instead, it made her tense up. Dealing with the kind yet pitiable look the owner always gave her made her uncomfortable.
"Hey Lily, how are you?" There it was—the pity she tried so hard to hide.
The owner was a middle-aged woman still in her prime thanks to her increased lifespan, a benefit of her ability rank. But the signs of wrinkles meant it wasn't a high rank. Probably E-rank. Maybe even FF-rank.
"I'm fine," she said, giving the owner a curt nod out of respect, then walked past her with eyes downcast. She began working without uttering a word to anyone who wasn't a customer, until her shift ended and she left with only a single nod to the owner.
It was 1:33 p.m., and Lily finally reached her apartment. She unlocked the door, which was only ever locked when her father was a little sober. Otherwise, it would remain unlocked, sometimes even left wide open for thieves to take what little they could get, which wasn't much.
She took off her backpack and threw it to the side, then removed her apron and went straight for the bathroom to pee. While passing her father's room, she felt the urge to check if what she'd hidden was still there.
'No, its fine, I'll just check it later,' she thought, then went inside the bathroom.
At 7:30 p.m. She had cleaned the entire apartment—excluding her father's room, since he didn't like her touching anything. After cleaning, she cooked something for herself. She wasn't very good at cooking, so the food tasted shitty, but that was the price she had to pay.
Lily had been leisurely sitting on the couch after eating, just staring at the ceiling doing nothing, when she heard her father walk in completely drunk like usual. But this time something felt different, and Lily didn't like the thought of that.
She didn't understand what was wrong—until her eyes saw what he was holding.
A very expensive whiskey.
Lily knew it was expensive because of the brand. Her father used to buy that kind of alcohol before they went bankrupt.
Her father had drunk away all their money—through drinking, gambling, and the whores he used to satiate himself—completely forgetting about Lily in the process, and losing himself.
Lily's heart threatened to stop. There was no way he could afford such a drink. He already owed too many people. No one would lend him anything. It didn't make sense unless—
Lily jumped off the couch and ran toward her father's room, but before she could enter—since the door was already open—she was stopped by an invisible force. She could barely move a muscle. Only breathe.
She heard her father close the door behind her. His footsteps echoed like hammers on her chest as he walked toward her. He passed her and went into his room.
Still in his field of view, he outstretched his hand, and the mattress began to float. Underneath it, piles of money wrapped in rubber bands.
Lily's heart skipped two beats. Tears began flowing down her cheeks. Suddenly, the invisible force let go, and with no support, she collapsed to her knees with a hard thud. It was painful—but Lily could barely feel it.
Everything in the background faded. Her father's approaching footsteps—gone. She saw his lips moving, but the only thing she could hear was a buzzing noise.
Her tears hit the floor, flowing endlessly. Her mind shutting down. The world spun, and she felt herself slipping.
Without thought, she whispered,
"How does this keep happening to me? Wha—"
A resounding Thwack! silenced the rest.
A painful slap brought her crashing back to reality.
And then… anger. Years of submissiveness ignited into rage.
Without thinking, she said,
"You fucking bastard. Who the fuck do you think you are—to take my fucking money to further enable your alcohol addiction?"
She tightly shut her eyes, already regretting it, bracing for the pain.
But it didn't come.
She opened her eyes to see her father blankly staring at her in disbelief.
Ignoring the look, she bolted toward the front door. This time, no invisible force stopped her. She opened it—
and she was gone.